“By what?”
“A selkie. We Scots have our legends, too, you know. A selkie is a creature of the sea, with a seal-like skin. When he—or she—cast off their skin, they assume human form. A selkie-man is said to be a dashingly handsome creature, with extremely persuasive powers over women.”
“And would you be jealous, your grace, if I were to find myself smitten with a selkie-man?” She dipped her toes in the water, watching it dimple.
“I would be very jealous, Irish. And it occurs to me that perhaps you are a selkie-woman, come to bewitch me. You did tell me you grew up by the sea.”
Maura bit back a laugh. “You are hardly bewitched! You find me an annoyance rather than bewitching.”
“I was quite bewitched the night of the masquerade. And if you were to try, you might bewitch me once again.”
Maura’s pulse began to clamor.
“And far more easily than you think,” he added softly.
A dare or a jest? Her breath caught halfway in her throat. Unsettled by his lengthy regard, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of his comment.
“But I would appreciate it if you would let someone know where you are.” He referred to her absence that morning. “I should hate to lose you so soon.”
Maura was annoyed. “I do not take kindly to being told what I may and may not do. Will you place me under watch if I refuse, your grace?”
“Tempt me not,” he said pleasantly.
“Then tell me not.”
A slow smile crept across his lips, “I will tell you this, then, Duchess. If I wished to keep you under lock and key”—his tone was buttery smooth—“it would be in my bedchamber.”
Judging from his half smile, Maura decided it best not to pursue the subject. Ignoring him, she donned her slippers and hose.
Alec offered a hand up.
They were just crossing the stone bridge when he glanced over at her. “It occurs to me I’ve been remiss as a husband.”
He stopped her in her tracks. Maura’s gaze flew up to his. She could think of only one thing in which he had been remiss.
His smile was sly. Damnation! It was as if he traversed a road that led directly into her mind, the rogue!
“Our wedding being as hasty as it was, it occurs to me you had no time to assemble a trousseau.”
Maura blinked. “What?”
“A trousseau. It’s a bride’s—”
“I know very well what it is,” she interrupted. She might as well be blunt. “I have no need of one. I’m an Irish country lass at heart—”
“Who is now the Duchess of Gleneden.”
A pang of guilt shot through her. Well, she wasn’t, but…“Nor am I the sort to put myself on parade like some silly young debutante.”
“Well, of course there’s no need. You’re a married woman now. But it would please me if you allow it to be my gift to my bride.” He went on, “I’ve business in Glasgow, and several other matters to attend to. If we start on our way early tomorrow, we can take the train from Tay into Glasgow. It’s an excellent place to buy what you need. Whatever you fancy. Anything you fancy.”
Maura kept her dismay at bay. With him gone, it was the perfect opportunity to search for the Circle!
“Truly, I prefer to remain here. I’ve hardly had the chance to feel at home here at Gleneden.”
“And you have years and years for that, Irish! Besides, what would people think if I left my bride so soon after our wedding? Someone might say I was a neglectful husband.”
Or that she was a neglectful wife.
