He was impossible. Yet his body heat and the clean scent of him were creating all those soft, mushy, tingly feelings in her insides again. She made an effort to preserve her dignity. “I do not see why my personal life—”
“’Tis nae just yer life we are discussin’,” Ian interrupted. “Maids dinnae get ill from eating chocolate truffles, nor do they sleep for a day and night after such. ’Twas something in them.”
“That is ridiculous. I ate them too. So did Nicholas.”
Ian looked skeptical, but turned to Effie. “Did the man single one of them out for you?”
“No,” Effie said, keeping an eye on where Jamie’s hands were. “I had my own box.”
“Yer own box?”
“Well, yes…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at Mari. “Do you suppose…?”
Mari squirmed against Jamie, drawing a strange sound from him that sounded like a growl or maybe a groan. “Why would Nicholas do something like that?”
“Mayhap he wanted to spend time alone with ye,” Ian said. “Did he compromise ye in any way, lass?”
Mari remembered the unasked-for kiss and felt her cheeks warm.
“Did he?” This time Jamie definitely growled. “I will kill the—”
“Nothing happened,” Mari said quickly. “We went for a stroll and sat by the pond. When we got back, Effie was asleep. Then we found out she was ill. That is all.”
She pushed at Jamie, and this time he released her. She stood quickly and picked up the soup bowl, hurrying toward the door. “I will just take this down to the kitchen.”
“A word of warning, lass,” Ian said before she could escape to the hall. Mari turned around reluctantly.
“I dinnae ken all of yer Society rules, but yer aunt told me she has already been asked why ye were out unescorted with the Frenchman.”
“But I was not. Effie was there.”
“Asleep under a tree and later, prone in the carriage where no one could see.”
“But—” Mari stopped, stricken. She had not thought how it would look to others. Those two ladies at the gardens…and how many people had they passed on their way home who were members of theton? A good dozen at least. Dear Lord. Had she ruined herself? The card for the Almack’s ball had arrived, but would the patronesses withdraw her invitation?
“Ye need to have a care, lass. Jillian wishes for ye to have a proper Season,” Ian said, his voice and expression softening at mention of his wife. “Dinnae leave the house again without Jamie by yer side. He will protect ye.”
There was that protection thing again. Mari opened her mouth to retort and then shut it abruptly. What was the use in arguing?
It seemed she got herself in trouble no matter what she did.
“Ye see what I am up against?” Jamie asked Ian as he poured each of them a dram in the library later. “The lass is truly vexing.”
Ian grinned. “I didnae think ye are finding yer job protecting the lass vexing.”
“Nae? Mari leaves the house without my permission, she daesna obey me, she daesna follow my orders—”
Ian held up a hand. “’Tis possible she daesna like the way ye put it to her. Mayhap ye should ask her nicely.”
Jamie stared at his brother. “Have ye gone daft? Has marriage addled yer brains to that of a green lad?”
Ian’s eyes darkened for a moment and then he shook his head. “Marriage suits me just fine. Ye might start thinking along those lines yerself.”
“Nae for a verra long time—mayhap in a few years. There are oats I have to sow.”
Ian lifted an eyebrow. “And are ye busy keeping the English lasses happy?”
“I have nae had time. Mari keeps getting herself into trouble.”
