“You don’t need to sound so disgusted,” she said, allowing her vulnerability to show. She was well aware she was far from his first choice, but she would never have suspected to have been so thoroughly rebuked.
“It’s not that,” he said, his words now holding a hint of seductiveness as he took a step closer. “I just wouldn’t have thought that a woman who was so worried of imbuing scandal would actually invite a man she hardly knew to her bed.”
“I certainly do not mean that!” she gasped out, realizing now just how her suggestion had sounded. “I meant that, perhaps, you could sleep beside me — but on top of the bottom blanket and just under your plaid. To sleep. And only to sleep,” she emphasized, closing her eyes as she lay back down, wishing she could take back the last two minutes of her life.
“Ah, I see,” he said, and Jane wondered for a moment if there was a hint of disappointment in his words. Surely not. The man cared nothing about her, and had, in fact, been so enamoured with her sister that he had travelled all this way to London from the middle of Scotland to retrieve her. While his methods were somewhat suspect, Jane begrudgingly had to admit that there was a touch of romance to it. She only wished someone might one day do such a thing for her.
“Well.” He heaved a sigh. “I suppose that is agreeable.”
While Jane was well aware, of course, that this had been entirely her idea, the moment he sat down on the edge of the bed that was, quite fortunately, rather large, the entire mattress heaved over to his great weight and she blinked a few times as her heart began to beat ever faster at the thought of a man like Duncan sleeping so near.
He rustled around as he found his way between the two blankets, and while there was still a thin barrier between them, Jane had not been lying when she had said the one blanket was thin. There was, however, one advantage to this arrangement, and that was the heat which practically radiated off him and was like a fire itself. She couldn’t help but shift slightly closer to him, so that only a couple of inches — plus the thin blanket — separated them.
Soon she was warmed all over, although it didn’t take long to discover that it was not only his heat that was causing the hot tingles to shoot through her. It was his nearness, she told herself, and that she had never had a man in her bed before. That was all. It was the suggestion of what could happen, and not that she actually wanted anything to.
For this was Duncan McDougall. The last man on earth she should want anything to do with. She should be running away from him as fast as she could, not cuddling next to his side.
But as much as she told herself that, she couldn’t help the slight smile that touched her lips as she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 4
“I am only staying long enough to convince you to come home.”
“I am not coming home.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Duncan followed Jane up the steps, pounding sharply on the door before she could open it.
“I do live here for the time being, you know,” she said, tilting her head to look up at him. He was so tall that it was rather difficult to do so. “I can let myself in. Besides, there is no one else to greet us besides my sister and her husband. Unlike at Galbury Castle, there is only one maid who will not arrive until later in the day.”
“Galbury is not overrun with servants,” he defended himself. “We do most everything on our own now.”
“Even so,” she said quite primly, “I have never known such luxuries.”
“Your father is a physician,” he said, annoyed that she would suggest he think so highly of himself when she didn’t even know him. “Surely you have some assistance.”
“We have one maid,” she said, but then she shivered and Duncan was reminded of the chill. He was aware that he didn’t feel it as harshly as some others. Jane, slim as she was, seemed to turn into an icicle the moment she stepped out of doors.
He was now too aware of her body temperature.
Duncan knew that he had far too much to drink last night. But he and Niall and Keith had begun telling stories of their youth, and the next thing he knew, all of the ale was gone and when he stood up the small house seemed as though it was tilting on its axis around him. Had he not had so much to drink, he never would have gone into the bedroom to find his plaid — and he certainly never would have agreed to her suggestion that he lie down next to her.
He knew she had asked in all of her innocence. For little did she know what she had done to him. He had been enticed by the thought of a warm bed for the evening — and a warm body beside him, even if he had no intentions of touching her.
Only… once he had slid between his own plaid and the blanket beneath him, he was far too aware of her. Thank goodness he had not drunk quite so much that he was unable to maintain a sense of control and keep himself from attempting anything with her. For he knew how that would have ended.
He had noted, however, that she had inched closer to him, and he could only guess that she was cold. And so, once she was sleeping, he had turned over and gently laid an arm around her, tugging her close to him. She had curled up into his chest like a little cat and slept soundly the rest of the night.
While he hadn’t slept a wink.
Now, here they were, on the doorstep of the very man who had stolen his fiancée away from him. And Duncan was about to beg hospitality. It tore him in two to think of it.
All for this stubborn little lass beside him.
She slipped past him now and entered before him, a spicy cinnamon scent lingering after her, and Duncan frowned when he found himself strangely stirred by her presence. Jane Campbell should mean nothing to him. She was just a woman who was in his way, who was preventing him from doing his duty as a Highland chieftain – a future one, anyway. It may not mean much anymore, but it was still a responsibility he was proud of. He would protect his people and do all that was required of him, whether it was expected or not. Even if it meant staying here with the damn English.
The drawing room at the front of the house was comfortable — and quiet. He hadn’t been able to see much of it in the dark the previous night. The furniture was oversized and obviously well-used, the two chairs and sofa in a worn gold floral pattern situated around a small scarred oak table in the middle. He could see through the arched doorway into the dining room in the back, while a narrow staircase in the corner of the room led up to where he assumed the bedrooms to be.
“See?” he said, opening his arms wide. “No one even missed you.”
“Jane!”
Perhaps he had spoken too soon.
Mary Campbell — though if she was truly married he supposed that was not her name anymore — was descending the stairs as fast as she was able to with the weight of her protruding stomach. She was followed closely by a tall, lean, bespectacled man who hurried after her with concern on his face.
“Not so fast, Mary,” he was saying in a soft voice. “We must be careful. Think of the babe. Oh, Jane, thank—”
They both came to a stop on the bottom stair as they saw that Jane was not alone.
“Duncan,” Mary breathed, her eyes wide and her voice incredulous. “What are you doing here? Jane, what… why…?”