Page 21 of The Highlander’s Improper Wife

“Your personal maid?”

Caroline shook her head. “I employ no personal maid.”

“You may employ one when we reach Strathmore.” She started to argue, but he added, “I am sorry. Your bags can follow. They will reach us within a day of our arrival. Anything you need between now and then may be purchased.”

Anger bubbled to the surface. He spoke easily enough of making purchases with her money. “Mabel cannot know what to send. How long will we stay?”

“We will live at Strathmore.”

Caroline stared. “Live? But—”

“You will do as your husband says,” her uncle cut in.

Caroline took care to keep her attention on her husb—Taran—he was not yet fully her husband, at least not until they consummated the marriage. The fact that the wedding night had taken place before the wedding would be of no consequence, so long as no one knew.

“John and I were to reside in London,” she continued.

“Caroline—” her uncle began.

She swung her gaze onto him. “You have married me off, sir. As I said earlier, your right to command me is lost.”

His mouth tightened. “Careful, my dear.”

She didn’t flinch from his gaze. “Will you lock me in my room, or perhaps a dawn appointment will teach me a final lesson I shall not soon forget?”

His eyes darkened. “Do not press me, Niece.”

Strong fingers closed around her arm. She found herself pulled to her feet and face-to-face with Taran. “Go on,” he said in a low voice. His warm breath fluttered her eyelashes. “See to your things. One hour should suffice.”

“One hour?”

“Caroline,” her uncle’s voice turned hard.

Taran gently pushed her towards the door, then faced her uncle. “Which will it be, Etherton, being locked in her room or a dawn appointment?”

Caroline froze, her stare on her husband’s back. She couldn’t see his face, didn’t need to see his expression. The near whisper with which he’d spoken the words left no room for question that Lord Taran Blackhall had threatened her uncle.

A glint appeared in her uncle’s eyes that said he understood full well Taran’s willingness to miss his all-important business in Scotland and remain in England through dawn tomorrow. A chill snaked down Caroline’s spine. Phillip Etherton climbed the social ladder just as he had plundered the South Seas as Peiter Everston. Dawn appointments were one prize among many.

“The earl asked that I see to it my niece complies.”

Taran didn’t twitch a muscle. “I have married your niece. Your obligation—and mine—have been fulfilled.”

“She intends to force your hand, as you witnessed during the ceremony,” her uncle replied in smooth tones. “I am well acquainted with her tactics and can ensure she does no lasting damage.”

“Lasting damage?” Taran repeated with a condescension Caroline feared would push her uncle to immediate violence. His reputation kept all but the most foolish youngsters and the occasional enraged husband at bay. “Her amusing attempts to discomfit me,” Taran went on, “are no more damaging than that tea she spilt on her dress.”

Her uncle regarded him for a long moment. “The earl would not appreciate his son interfering where he should not.”

“Beware you do not interfere where you should not.” Taran started to turn, then added, “Give my regards to the earl.” He turned on his heel and scowled when his gaze met Caroline’s. He took two steps towards her, catching her elbow as he propelled her forward. “Madam, if you insist on dallying at every turn, I shall miss this, and every other meeting, for the duration of our marriage.”

Caroline tripped and his hold on her tightened as he navigated her out of the study. She stared at the long dark fingers encircling her arm, the same fingers that had gently caressed her breasts. How much more steel would she feel from those fingers if he discovered the honor of the woman he defended had been lost to him only the night before? Taran released her at the stairs, inclined his head in a slight bow, then pivoted and headed towards the kitchen.

She gaped at his retreating back. If Uncle discovered the truth and Taran called off the marriage, the dawn appointment would become a reality.

Chapter Nine

Taran cast a glance at Phillip Etherton’s front door, saw his wife had yet to appear, then pulled William aside from the waiting carriage.