Page 85 of A Stranger’s Gamble

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A noise outside the window caught Sophie’s attention. She paused in writing the first letter she would send to Imogen from Brewhold, and she looked out the parlor window. Adam, coat off, sleeves rolled up his forearms, stood alongside young Calum as they fitted a wheel to the rear of a wagon. Her pulse quickened when Adam’s shirt went taut across his back. God help her. What was it about the mere sight of the man that sent butterflies skittering across the insides of her stomach?

A month had passed since she’d shot Kenrich Balfour. No charges had been filed against her for his death. She had, after all, been protecting her husband. Imogen had led them to the gold, which was beneath the very floorboards where they stood in the groundskeeper’s cottage. The necklace stolen from the Duke of Bransbury was nowhere to be found. King George, however, was satisfied, and Adam had received a handsome reward.

Adam had been a paragon of a husband—kind, patient, solicitous. But not a real husband. They had yet to consummate their marriage. Maybe all men really were alike. Much promise of passion before marriage, then…nothing. Or maybe he simply didn’t see her that way.

The two men got the wheel fitted to the wagon, and Adam clapped Calum on the back, then turned. As if aware she was watching, Adam looked up. He lifted his brows in question, and her cheeks heated. He started toward the castle, and she told herself to look away but watched until he was out of view. Her spirits sagged, but she forced her attention back to her letter to Imogen.

Sophie had promised Imogen she could visit soon, and she saw no reason to delay. She, Imogen, and Beatrice could find plenty to do in Inverness. Sophie paused in writing. She hadn’t seen Beatrice since after breakfast. Where was the girl? Sophie would go in search of her once she finished her letter.

Sophie had just signed her name when bootfalls sounded outside in the hall. She looked up as Adam entered. He still wore no jacket, and he still had his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing tanned arms.

He halted inside the room and regarded her. “Do I overstep my bounds when I say I have never seen a more beautiful woman?” he asked.

Sophie’s pulse quickened, but she kept a neutral expression and arched a brow. “I would say you live up to your reputation as a rogue, sir.”

He crossed the room, and she remained motionless when he stopped in front of her, grasped her hand, and lifted it to his lips. “On the contrary. I have never said that to another woman.”

He brushed his mouth against her fingers, and a shiver slid down her shoulders. The man’s reputation was well-deserved. He was desire incarnate. Adam released her—though she had the feeling he was reluctant.

“I have invited Imogen to visit next month,” she said. “I hope you do not mind.”

He nodded slowly. “As you wish.”

Though he sounded cordial, she had the distinct impression he wasn’t pleased.

She regarded him. “If you prefer she not come here, I could go to Edinburgh.”

“I think not,” he replied with such alacrity that she blinked.

“I beg your pardon? Why not?”

“Forgive me, my dear, but the last time you went to Edinburgh, you kept following a certain gentleman all over kingdom come and back.”

Her mouth fell open. “I-I beg your pardon. That gentleman was you—though you did not act like a gentleman.”

“Then we are even,” he said. “For you did not act like a lady.”

She stiffened. “You are no gentleman to keep reminding a lady of that, sir.

A devilish light gleamed in his eyes. “A lady—”

“Would not have followed a gentleman.” She rolled her eyes. “Aye, so you have said a dozen times.”

“I do not think I have said it quite a dozen times.”

He sounded genuinely affronted.

“So, I shall go to Edinburgh to visit Imogen,” Sophie said, more out of the sudden desire to bother him than anything else.

He threw himself onto the small couch to her left and shook his head. “I believe I said I prefer you not go to Edinburgh.”

Sophie leveled her gaze onto him. “You cannot honestly believe I will follow any other gentleman around. After all, the only reason I followed you was to keep from marrying you, and look where that got me.”

“Married?” he said.

She dropped her gaze to the letter before her. “In name only.”