Page 81 of The Highlander Is All That

“The slow part, I noticed,” he grumbled.

Well, really. There was no call for him to be petulant. “I kissed you this afternoon, did I not?”

“That was a verra nice kiss.”

“Thank you.”

His brow wrinkled. “But . . .”

She frowned at him. “But what?”

“It was kind of . . .”

“Kind of what?”

“Quick?”

How dare he criticize? She huffed a breath. “I was in a hurry.”

“Are you . . .” He paused so long a hush filled the room. “Are you in a hurry now?”

Oh. Oh dear. She couldn’t help the smile that blossomed. And then her mood plummeted. “I do have a ball to prepare for.”

“That’s hours away.”

“I have to do my hair.”

“Wear it down.”

“That is a scandalous suggestion.”

“What can I say?” he said with a wink. “I’m a Scot.”

He stood then and pulled her to her feet and held her gently for a moment before he set his lips to hers.

It was long, lingering, and lovely.

And when Aunt Esmeralda came into the room and wailed, “Not again,” they both ignored her. Thank heaven she stormed from the room.

Chapter Sixteen

Needless to say, there was not another chance for Elizabeth to see Hamish before the Moncrieff ball that evening, partly because Aunt Esmeralda insisted on being in Elizabeth’s pocket all day, and partly because there was so much to do to prepare. Her sisters were far too excited for this occasion, billed the event of the season, and they wanted to prepare together.

It would have been just this side of torture, given her mood, but to be honest, Elizabeth was curious about the infamous Dark Duke as well.

Moncrieff had been a rake in his day but had apparently met his match in a redheaded Scotswoman who had utterly tamed him, and that alone fascinated all of them.

“I’ve heard he has horns,” Victoria said as they waded through her closet looking for the perfect gown.

Mary shook her head. “I hear there’s a tail.”

“Well, we can’t very well search for a tail,” Anne remarked, holding up a pretty blue frock. “It would hardly be proper.”

Elizabeth sighed. How she would love to wear something in bold colors. They’d been in mourning for the past three years, and then in the annoying whites and pastels of a debutante.

Victoria sighed. “Perhaps the new duchess will tell us.”

“I cannot fathom how one would ask,” Anne said on a sniff.