A Noble Deception (The Douglas Clan) by Veronica Bale Page A

Should she knock again? She leaned closer, pressing her ear to the wood.
    Before she righted herself, the door was pulled back. She stumbled slightly, her wide-eyed gaze falling upon the full figure of Lachlan Ramsay. His legs and feet were bare, and his linen tunic had been pulled from his belt, and hung loosely over his hips.
    Fie! S he’d disturbed his slumber.
    “Oh—er, excuse me, sir,” she stammered. “I didna mean to disturb ye when ye were—”
    “Nay, my Lady, ‘tis alright. I were meaning rise anyway. Will ye come in?”
    She peered uncertainly into the dim chamber. Someone might see her enter, which would certainly set tongues wagging more than they already were. On the other hand, the matter before them had to be settled.
    E yeing the threshold as if it were a pit of horse dung, she crossed it.
    “Leave the door open, then . We dinna want anyone thinking there’s anything untoward happening in here.”
    “Heaven forbid that a soon-to-be-married couple engage in activity that might be considered untoward. ” Nevertheless, he obliged, and left the door ajar.
    “Please,” he said, indicating the leather-padded chair by the hearth.
    Moira accepted and perched tentatively on the edge. With no other option—it was the only chair or bench in the chamber—he sat on the edge of the bed, tucked his shirt back into his belt, replaced his plaid on his shoulder, and pulled his boots back onto his feet. Moira tried not to notice the rippling definition of his muscles, visible beneath the linen of his tunic; tried to ignore the heat that crept into her stomach.
    “Sir, I have thought about yer proposition,” she stated once he’d settled himself.
    “I am glad.”
    “I’d prefer ye didna tease me. This isna a light matter.”
    “On the contrary, I may tease, but ‘tis wi’ the highest respect to the serious nature of our conversation.”
    Moira frowned. “Are ye always this glib?”
    “ Only when my company is as drab and serious as ye.”
    He was testing the limits of her patience. “I am no’ drab and serious,” she retorted. “And even if I am, I think I have reason enough to be.”
    Lachlan cocked an eyebrow, but waited for her to resume. That infuriating grin of his remained on his lips; her hands itched to smack it from his irritatingly handsome face. She breathed, reining in her control.
    “ As I was saying, given the circumstances of our predicament, I see no way around yer proposition. I’ve no desire to leave Kildrummond, and though I could run if I wished to—”
    “I’ve no doubt.”
    A warning glare silenced him. “Though I could run,” she repeated, “I love Kildrummond, and the friends I have here. If yer suggestion that we marry be the only way out of his Lordship’s design, then I’ve no choice but to accept yer offer. But ,” she stressed, leaning forward intently, “ye’ve promised that we may have the marriage annulled once ye’ve taken on the title of Earl in yer own right, and to allow me to remain in my home for as long as I live. I expect ye to uphold yer end of the bargain when the time comes.”
    Lachlan peered at the lass, an unexpe cted stir of respect forming in his breast. She had a strength about her; it was not something he often encountered in the women of his life, especially women with ties to nobility.
    T hen again, he’d never encountered a woman with ties to nobility so brash and ill-mannered as she—even the illegitimate ones, for she was not the first he’d known.
    He regarded her with begrudging approval. “Dinna fret, Lady Moira. I’ve no intention of keeping a wife— any wife. Just as ye obviously have no intention of keeping a husband.”
    I t was Moira’s turn to be surprised. And offended. He thought she never wished to take a husband... did he think her a shrew?
    “I’ve no intention of taking the husband his Lordship chooses for me. I’ve no intention of being a man’s property, if I can help it. That doesna mean I’ve no wish