Chapter Six
Miranda had to keep reminding herself that she was doing the right thing and not leading Gwenys toward heartbreak.
But the smile on Douglas’s face as they joined him and Solway for breakfast in the inn’s dining room early the following morning proved she had made the right decision in agreeing to return to Scotland in July.
The young man’s eyes lit up brighter than the biggest stars in heaven the moment he noticed Gwenys walk in.
Gwenys sported a similar smile as Douglas rose and approached her with a plate in hand.
“Let me help ye,” he said, leading her to a long table laden with silver salvers set up against the hearth wall.
The most intoxicating aromas were rising from those salvers, which were filled with anything one’s stomach could desire.
Eggs, bacon, sausages, oatmeal, oatcakes, fruit, scones, kippers, and grayish boiled things that Miranda had never dared taste.
Solway noticed the direction of her gaze. “That’s haggis. I would no’ recommend yer trying it this morning if ye’ve never had it before.”
Miranda laughed. “Duly noted. In truth, it does not look in the least tempting.”
“Och, it isn’t. But that’s why we Scots insist on devouring it,” he said with a grin. “We love to torture ourselves with challenges.”
“Another of those manly shows of strength?”
“Aye, lass.”
His smile melted her heart despite her determination to remain unaffected by him. He was making it impossible to ignore this unfamiliar sparkle of happiness spreading throughout her body and deep into her soul.
He took up her plate and escorted her from salver to salver while she filled it with choices to her liking.
She paused upon reaching the salver of haggis. “I’ll try some.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Ye shouldn’t. Do ye know what’s in it? The—”
“Don’t tell me!” She took a deep breath and heaped some onto her plate. “I’m going to try it. I can be brave and do this.”
Solway groaned and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “If ye want to be brave, then take the leap and kiss me. It’ll be a lot safer than eating those entrails.”
“Solway! Is it really entrails?”
He nodded.
She stared at the gray lump in dismay. “But I’ve already put it on my plate.”
“Och, what a dilemma,” he teased. “I suggest ye eat around it, then.”
She studied it a moment longer and then looked up at him. “I think eating the haggis would be much safer than kissing you.”
“Och, ye’ll always be safe with me. I would never do anything more unless ye were willing.”
“But that’s the danger, isn’t it?”
She knew she would adore his kisses and desire more from him…much more.
Scooping the plate from his hands, she hurried to their table.
Gwenys must have ordered tea for her, because there was a cup and small pot with steam rising from it set at her place.
She poured some tea into her cup, loaded it with honey, milk, lemon, and sugar, and then began drinking even though it was still too hot to put to her lips.
But she had to do something to avoid looking at Solway, who had now joined her and was staring at her, no doubt trying to figure out what she had meant by that comment.
If only she did not find him ridiculously attractive even when fully clothed.
How was she to remain indifferent to him for the week or longer it would take them to reach London? They would be together throughout their travels, save for separate guest chambers when sleeping.
His grin was smug but still endearing, and his eyebrows shot up as he figured out what she had meant.
He took a slow sip of his coffee and then calmly set down his cup. “There’s hope for us yet, Miranda.”
He gazed at her lips, his expression smoldering as he subtly marked his territory.
She shivered, suddenly feeling the full impact of his gaze, which was not at all leering but filled with hunger and need.
It was laughable to think she might ever satisfy his soul.
Anyway, could she ever trust such a look?
Hadn’t her husband regarded her with the same pretended ardor until the moment he secured his inheritance?
The entailed assets had passed to him along with the title, of course.
But there was also the unentailed bank accounts his father had tied up and kept out of his reach until he married a girl who met with the approval of his trustees.
That was her. All of eighteen years old, pure and untouched, and the daughter of a respected lord.
Yes, those trust funds were his true desire. Once they were transferred into his greedy hands, he dropped all pretense of ever caring for her.
But why should she tar Solway with the same brush? This big Scot was not the bounder who had deceived her and then, by an ironic twist of fate, left her a wealthy widow at the age of twenty.
She dug into her eggs, refusing to look at him. His dark eyes had a determined glint that she found irresistibly appealing. But that look also warned he was going to kiss her before they reached London.
And she was going to let him kiss her.
Dear heaven.
She shoveled more eggs into her mouth and then poured more honey, milk, and sugar into her tea, but this only made Solway smile again.
Could he read her mind? Was she that obvious?
It wasn’t desire on her part, merely curiosity.
She tried not to think of his mouth on hers.
Why shouldn’t she let him? After all, she hadn’t been with a man in fifteen years, and was it not time she took advantage of being a widow of independent means and doing whatever she pleased?
With Solway.
Oddly, she did feel safe with him despite these dangerous and unsettling feelings he seemed to be awakening within her.
She thought of his mouth on other parts of her body.
Gad!
She had stupidly swallowed some tea at the same moment her thoughts had strayed in that most improper direction, and now she was coughing and dribbling tea down her chin.
“Och, Miranda,” Solway said, grabbing her table linen and dabbing gently at the liquid on her chin, “dinna torment yerself. Must I assure ye again that ye’ll always be safe with me?”
It appeared so. She needed lots of assurances because his appeal was too potent for her.
She wanted him so badly. Not only to kiss him, but to leap into bed with him.
How could she trust him? She needed to know he would never break her heart.
He gave her lips a light dab before setting the linen aside. As he did so, his fingers grazed her lips and made them tingle.
He’d done it on purpose.
She frowned at him.
He shook his head and sighed. “Miranda, I am no’ yer enemy.”
He was wrong. He held the power to mortally wound her.
Gwenys and Douglas had been at the long table refilling their plates and thankfully had missed her fit of coughing and the reason behind it.
“These scones are delicious,” Gwenys remarked, resuming her seat beside Miranda and trying to maintain a cheerful outlook. “We ought to request some be packed in a hamper for our ride to London.”
“I’ll see to it,” Douglas said, and was about to rise, but Solway held him back.
“I’ve done it already, lad,” he said. “I thought the ladies might enjoy them.”
“Our cook at Lanark Castle does them better,” Douglas remarked. “Ye’ll be the judge, Gwenys, when ye return to us in July. Mairie will be well pleased if ye compliment her on her scones. She will adopt ye as one of her own if ye compliment her on her apple pie.”
It was still early, and most of the inn’s patrons were not yet awake as they made ready to depart Edinburgh and the Lampton Inn.
Miranda allowed Gwenys a moment alone with Douglas, but still kept the pair within sight.
After all, these two were falling in love and about to be parted.
Douglas, even if he were a complete gentleman, would find it hard to keep his hands off her beautiful niece.
Miranda was determined to remain vigilant, like a mother bear protecting her cub.
“The bags are loaded onto my carriage,” Solway remarked, drawing her attention away from the cooing lovebirds. “How are ye feeling?”
“Eager to arrive home.”
“Aye, ye’ve made that readily apparent. But ye must promise to tell me if the carriage ride is too hard on yer ribs. Ye need to be sensible about this.”
She turned away. “Gwenys, time to go.”
“I’ll be right there, Aunt Miranda.” Gwenys gave Douglas a final hug and hurried to the impressive black steel conveyance bearing Solway’s ducal seal. The carriage was large and sturdy, and had been polished to such a shine, it gleamed with a blinding brightness to rival the sun.
Solway extended his hand to assist Gwenys into the coach, then did the same for her. Miranda felt jolts of heat coil through her as his arm momentarily wrapped around her waist to give her that extra bit of assistance she needed because of her sore ribs.
Oh, this was so bad.
She settled beside Gwenys and immediately peered out the window to keep her gaze off Solway while he settled across from them. However, she cast him surreptitious glances while his carriage rolled out of the inn’s courtyard because she seemed unable to keep her eyes off him.
His shoulders were marvelously broad and took up almost the entire breadth of the soft leather back of his seat. The carriage she had hired to bring them up to Aberdeen and return them home immediately after the stepsister’s wedding was following behind them and carried their trunks.
She had wanted to ride in that carriage and leave Solway to his own, but Gwenys objected vehemently, and so did he. They were right, of course. The hired conveyance was nowhere near as comfortable as Solway’s ducal carriage.
They all remained lost in their own thoughts when leaving Edinburgh and while rolling through the Scottish countryside that was lush and green from recent rains.
Fortunately, it had not rained in the last several days, so their journey would not be hampered by their carriages having to slog through mud.