Because You're Mine (Capital Theatre #2)(72)

Logan smiled wryly at her comment, and turned for an introduction to Justine, who waited close by. Dutifully Madeline presented him to her older sister and waited for the look of awestruck admiration that would appear on his face. Men always reacted to Justine that way. Strangely, Justine's incandescent beauty seemed to make little impression on Logan.

“A pleasure,” he murmured indifferently.

A touch of pique flashed in Justine's luminous gaze. “Welcome to the family, Mr. Scott. I do hope you'll be kind to my dear little sister.”

“I intend to, Lady Bagworth.” Logan regarded Justine with a sardonic quirk of his left brow. Obviously the chit expected him to be taken with her. She was attractive, although Madeline was actually the more beautiful of the two, her features more refined, her eyes filled with a warmth and intelligence that her sister lacked.

His attention switched to Madeline's mother, Agnes, who sat at the other side of the room. “Lady Matthews, I'm afraid I won't be able to stay long. I'd hoped that you would allow me a few minutes alone with Madeline.”

Agnes looked affronted at the request. “As you must know, Mr. Scott, it is unseemly for the two of you to speak without a chaperone present.”

“At this point, it hardly matters, does it?” he asked softly, making Madeline flush and Justine giggle.

Agnes frowned at the shameless comment. “While you are under my roof, Mr. Scott, I insist that you abide by my standards of decency—even if you do find them too exacting. You may indeed speak with Madeline, but Justine will serve as chaperone.” Calmly she swept from the room, giving a meaningful look to her eldest daughter.

The three of them were left in silence. Justine made a face and threw them both a rueful grin as she retreated to the far side of the room. She stood at the window and feigned interest in the view outside, while Logan pulled Madeline to the corner.

“I'm sorry—” Madeline began unhappily, wanting to apologize for her mother's coldness, but Logan held a finger to her lips. Madeline fell silent, spellbound by his nearness. His scent was exquisitely familiar, a masculine blend of linen, wool, and skin, laced with tobacco.

“How do you feel?” he asked, glancing down at her prim, high-necked dress and back to her face.

Madeline colored slightly. “Very well, thank you.”

“Still having morning sickness?”

“Yes.”

“It should last only another month or two. In the meantime, try to keep something in your stomach.”

“Why are you so well-informed on the subject?” she dared to whisper.

Logan smiled at the flash of impudence. “My comanager was often absent because of the same malady.”

“Then you haven't ever…” Madeline asked, unable to conceal her worry.

“No,” Logan said, his voice suddenly gentle. “You're the first woman I've ever gotten with child.” He reached into his pocket and extracted a small object. “Give me your hand.”

She felt him slide a cool, heavy ring over the fourth finger of her left hand, and her gaze fell to the object. It was a canary-yellow diamond at least five carats in weight, surrounded by a row of round white diamonds that glittered with brilliant fire. Stunned by the extravagance of the ring, Madeline looked up at Logan with wide eyes.

“Good heavens,” came Justine's exclamation from across the room. “It's as big as an egg!”

“Thank you,” Madeline said to Logan with a catch in her voice. “I've never had anything so beautiful.”

Logan's shoulders moved in an indifferent shrug. “If you wish, we'll exchange it for something else.”

“Oh, no…it's perfect.” She stared at the sparkling diamond, searching for the right words to thank him, but nothing seemed appropriate.

Unable to suppress her curiosity, Justine hurried over to them. “Do let me see it, Madeline! Dear heavens, what a magnificent stone. May I try it on?” Before the request had even passed her lips, she had tugged the ring from Madeline's finger and was inspecting it with an admiring gaze. “Flawless, and such a spectacular color!” She threw the two of them a sly glance. “I should think a gift like this deserves more than a paltry ‘thank-you,’ Madeline. Shouldn't you reward Mr. Scott with a kiss? Mama's not here, after all…and I would never tell.”

Madeline glanced at Logan in consternation, unable to read his expression. “Mr. Scott is very private—” she said, but Logan interrupted with a roguish smile.

“Not that private, sweet.” His hands slid gently over her cheeks, holding her still as his lips descended to hers. She quivered at the light brush of his mouth, the way he tasted her as if she were a delicacy to be savored. It was merely a display, she reminded herself, to convince Justine that they were in love…but she couldn't prevent the glow of pleasure that spread through her. Her knees wobbled, and she swayed against him, disoriented by the sheer delight of his mouth on hers.

Logan finished the kiss with a soft nudge of his lips and drew back to stare at her.

“Well,” came Justine's speculative voice, “you seem quite taken with my little sister, Mr. Scott. One can't help but wonder what a man of your sophistication sees in a girl like her.”

Logan's mouth twisted sardonically. It was clear that Justine harbored more than a touch of jealousy. “Madeline has the qualities I've always desired in a wife,” he replied evenly.