“I care for yer safety because it is the right and honorable thing to do. As for my kinsmen, I hope ye’ll find it in yer heart to forgive their foolishness. They only meant to find me a bride because they think I am too incompetent to manage it myself. They meant for ye to be my wife, my duchess, and nothing disrespectful.”
“They meant this for myniece,” she pointed out.
He studied her features, finding her lovelier the longer he stared at her. “Aye, that is true. But I am the duke and the one to decide what I want in a marriage. More precisely,whomI want. If the choice were mine, then why would I look any further than ye?”
She cleared her throat. “What do you mean?”
“Is it no’ obvious? If I were of a mind to marry, I would choose ye for my bride.”
“Me?” Her pretty mouth gaped open in obvious surprise. “Surely you jest.”
“No, I am quite serious.” She had shown spirit, intelligence, and she was achingly beautiful. Aye, she was older than most blushing brides. He guessed her to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Perhaps a little older because she had a niece who was full grown.
He was not a total dullard and had no intention of asking her age. Indeed, he had no death wish. Besides, she had the sort of timeless beauty that would not fade, not even into her dotage.
“Solway,” she said, eyeing him warily, “what are you saying?”
He laughed softly and shook his head. “I’m no’ certain, and that’s the truth of it. I had only meant to express a hypothetical statement, but the more I look at ye…the more I am thinking, why not?”
“What?”
“I’ve been studying ye since I first set eyes on ye, looking for something I dinna like about ye. To my surprise, I am no’ comingup with anything.” He sighed. “So, I think I just asked ye to be my wife. Do ye think ye can find it in yer heart to marry me, Miranda?”
Chapter Two
Miranda shot outof her chair, once more in a fury as she stared at the big bear of a man who stood before her. Her mind strained to make sense of what he was saying. “No, I will not marry you. How can you insult me by asking me this?”
He arched an eyebrow, obviously surprised by her response.
To his credit, he seemed to be fuming but doing his best to suppress his anger. “Ye took my proposal for an insult?”
“You only asked me because you wish to silence me and protect your kinsmen,” she shot back, knowing it was foolish of her to goad this man. But how wassheto blame for this impossible situation when she was the victim here, the innocent lady abducted by his kinsmen, and now forced to endure the added humiliation of being offered up like a ritual sacrifice as his bride?
Hisbride.
“If I were your wife, you could forbid me from pressing charges. Do you dare deny this is your only reason?”
“Do ye seriously think me that low in character?”
“I do not know you at all, so what else am I to think? And you are the duke, obviously the one with all the power here. What is to stop you from banishing me to some remote isle after we are married and leaving me to languish there while you continue with your life as though I do not exist?”
Well, she had to admit that he did not appear to be that sort of fellow at all, judging by the look of horror on his face as she hurled those accusations.
“Ye think I would treat my wife so abominably?”
She sighed. “I do not know, and that is precisely the problem, is it not? I am painfully aware of what can happen when one goes into a marriage with hope and trust that is misplaced.”
“Are ye speaking from yer own experience, Lady Miranda?” he asked softly. “Upon my honor, any wife of mine would be treated with respect and never cast away.”
He sounded sincere, but what did it matter? She was not about to marry a stranger, even if he was irritatingly handsome in a brutish sort of way. He had bright-red hair sprinkled with silver at the temples, and it looked quite attractive on him. He was a tall and brawny fellow, broad in the shoulders and powerfully built. One could not overlook those fine muscles. Despite being about forty years of age, he was surprisingly fit.
Ridiculouslyfit.
Warmth curled in her belly, but she ignored it.
No doubt his strength came from spending much of his day tossing logs. She had heard this was what Scotsmen did to amuse themselves, partake in these ridiculous games of strength, such as said tree tossing, or hurling stones, and probably gave themselves herniated organs in the process.
His eyes were dark and assessing, revealing a surprising intelligence.
