Page 35 of The Highlander’s Improper Wife

Taran lifted the teapot and began pouring tea. “No hat today?”

Caroline resisted the urge to touch the edges of the simple curls that hung around her ears. “You threw my hat out of the door.”

He grimaced. “That was no hat, madam.”

Laughter threatened. The look on his face when he had seized the hat and tossed it out of the carriage had been worth nearly suffocating.

She forced a frown. “That hat is the height of Paris fashion.”

“Then I am glad we are travelling to the Highlands, rather than France.” He set the pot on the table. “And the corset?”

She no more mourned the loss of the corset than the hat, but lifted her chin, nonetheless. “You are aware of women’s fashion, sir.”

“I am aware of women’s foolishness.” She started to retort, but he said, “You rose early.

I had expected to find you beside me when I woke.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I thought you wished to get an early start this morning.” “Indeed.” He dropped his gaze to her breasts.

Caroline shot a glance at the corner chair where sat the only other occupant of the room, who seemed overly absorbed in The Times. He was close enough for her to discern the deep blue eyes that were glued to his paper, and she couldn’t help but believe he must have overheard Taran’s comment. He glanced up and their gazes met. She flushed, now certain he had overheard them, and jerked her gaze back onto Taran.

He took a sip of tea and set the cup back on its saucer. “You slept well, I hope.” He picked up a roll and began buttering it. “I worried I was overly hard on you last night.” “My lord,” she hissed in a whisper.

His eyes lifted to meet hers. “I am only concerned for your welfare.”

“We are not alone.” She resisted the urge to look at the man again. She could feel his eyes on her.

Taran waved a hand dismissively, then took a bite of his roll. “This is a private corner.”

Caroline glowered. “Do you make a habit of talking so openly?”

He paused in chewing and said as if injured, “I am a happy man.”

She snorted. “Satisfied with yourself, is what you are.”

His gaze darkened. “You are well satisfied, my lady. I saw to that.”

She gasped, then clamped a hand over her mouth. He lifted a brow as if to challenge her to deny the statement and she seized her napkin from off her lap and threw it on the table.

“I will await you in our chambers.” She started to rise, but he grabbed her wrist and shook his head.

“Nay. I have sent someone to pack your trunk. By now, it will be loaded onto the carriage. You will finish your tea while I have my breakfast, then we shall be on our way.”

Caroline considered arguing, but lowered herself back into the chair. He released her and took another sip of tea.

“What business is so important we had to run pell-mell to Scotland?” she asked.

“Nothing you need concern yourself with.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You intend on spending my money the day after our wedding.”

The maid appeared with his breakfast. She set two plates before him. “Anything else, my lord?”

He shook his head. She left and Taran picked up knife and fork. “My money, love, and I paid creditors before we left Newcastle.”

Caroline stared. “How dare you?”

He forked eggs into his mouth. “How dare I what?”