“She doesn’t always know what’s best for her,” Sir Thomas said. “Women are easily persuaded, which is why you were able to spirit her away to some godforsaken wilderness with none to protect her.”
“She had a chaperone all the time she was in Scotland,” Fraser said. “Not that it’s any concern of yours.”
“Then why did she return so downhearted?” Sir Thomas asked. “What did you do to her when you had her in your clutches?”
Fraser laughed. “I believe she rather enjoyed being in my—as you put it—clutches, very much. At least it sounded like she did.”
Sir Thomas’s face turned red. “Why, you damned bloody savage!” he cried. “You come here with your uncouth ways and fanciful ideas. Mark my words, you’ll sing a different tune when the mob turns on you. As for Miss Hart, she’s mine, and if you’ve defiled her, I’ll bloody well…”
“Stop!” a female voice shrieked.
Both men turned.
Lilah stood in the doorway, hands fisted at her sides, her face flushed.
“How dare you discuss me!” she cried.
How much had she overheard?
“Miss Hart,” Fraser said, “Forgive me, but…”
She silenced him by raising her hand. “I was speaking to Sir Thomas. Did I hear aright, sir, that you believe me incapable of knowing my own mind?”
“Delilah…” Sir Thomas protested, but she interrupted him.
“How dare you address me with such familiarity!” she cried. “Please leave.”
“Delilah, please listen to reason. I have your best interests at heart.” He gestured toward Fraser. “This man is a savage whose intentions are dishonorable. He has no claim over you, whereas I…”
“That’s enough!” she said. “If you won’t be told, I’ll summon the servants and have you thrown out.”
“I think you should honor the lady’s request,” Fraser said, “unless you wish to see my savagery unleashed.”
“But I’m Mr. Hart’s guest,” Sir Thomas said, “and he’s my particular friend.”
“And do you know what else he is?” Fraser asked, raising his hands.
“What?”
Fraser smiled. “Not here.”
Sir Thomas stepped back. “You can go to the devil,” he said, then he addressed Miss Hart.
“Dearest, Delilah,” he said. “I care about you. I…”
“You only care about yourself,” she interrupted. “Just go, Tommie Tiptoes.”
His face darkened into a scowl, then he issued a bow and left. Shortly after, Fraser heard the front doors open and close.
“I thought he’d never go. Miss Hart, I’m sorry you had to hear what I said to him. I meant no disrespect.”
She bit her lip and looked away. Had her visit to Scotland made her so unhappy? He thought she’d enjoyed herself. Ma had liked her very much, and she’d seen impressed by the distillery. And her lessons…
Her distress was so thick, he could almost taste it. And another sensation, an unwelcome one, threatened to engulf him. The urge to ease her pain. Not just today but forever.
The raw, base lust he’d first harbored for her had been refined, distilled, then left to mature inside his heart until it revealed the truth.
He loved her.
He loved her passion for life, her advocacy for the downtrodden. But most of all, he loved how she was made for him. She responded to the call of the wilderness in his Highland home as if she belonged there. She was his Highland queen, the one woman who could fulfill him.
The urge to claim her completely had besieged him ever since he’d returned to London. And he could deny it no more.
A tear spilled onto her cheek, and he brushed it aside.
“Where’s my terrier?”
A ghost of a smile played on her lips.
“That’s better, lass.”
“Forgive me,” she said, “and forgive Sir Thomas. He spoke out of turn.”
She gestured toward the door and gave him a watery smile. “Forgive me, I must be going. Dorothea and I have a dinner engagement, but stay if you wish, until Dexter returns.”
“No, I must go,” he said. “I shouldn’t have come.”
Her smile disappeared, and he reached for her hand.
“Miss Hart, did Sir Thomas speak the truth? Did your visit to my home make you unhappy?”
“Of course not,” she said. “It was as I expected.”
“My own expectations have undergone a transformation since we returned,” he said.
“How so?”
He shook his head. “Now’s not the time to discuss it.”
“Then, when?” Her lips lifted into a smile. “You owe me one more lesson, I believe.”
“And what will I get in return?” he asked. “Will you show me the poems you wrote while you were in the Highlands?”
“I’d be glad to.”
“Did you show them to that fool?”
“Sir Thomas?” She shook her head. “No. They’re a little too—personal. Besides, he has little understanding of beauty.”
“I’m sure he’s remarked on your beauty many times.”
She let out a laugh. “Shame on you, sir, if you think to flatter me. True beauty is far superior to mere aesthetics. If I were faced with such superficiality in a suitor, I’d douse his ardor with a bucketful of ice down his breeches.”
“There’s my wee terrier.”
She gave him a smile which, this time, reached her eyes, and his insides tightened with longing.
“I’m afraid there’s no time to show my poems to you now,” she said.
“Perhaps you could call on me at my lodgings.”
“At Clayton House?”
He shook his head. “The refurbishments are not complete. I’m lodging in Curzon Street, so as not to be disturbed by the work. Are you able to visit on Saturday? I can send my carriage to collect you at four.”
“I can walk.”
“I know you can, lass, but I ask you to indulge me.”
“Very well.”
He drew her to him, and she tipped her face up. He lowered his lips to hers and flicked his tongue out, tracing the seam of her mouth. Willingly, she parted her lips, and he slipped his tongue inside.
The sensations sent a firebolt through him, and he hardened in his breeches.
“Delilah!” a female voice called in the distance, and she pulled free, her mouth swollen from his kiss.
She called out. “Coming, Thea!”
“I should go,” he said.
“Until Saturday.”
Saturday. That gave him four days to prepare for the day his life was going to change.
The day he declared his love for Delilah Hart, and offered her his heart and his hand.
Chapter Twenty-One
The carriage drew to a halt in Curzon Street. Lilah stepped out and looked around, but there was nobody about to recognize her. Though she might declare she cared nothing for propriety, she did care about her family’s reputation. She owed it to her brother to behave appropriately by not gallivanting around London unchaperoned.