Devil in Tartan (Highland Grooms #4)(48)
Captain Mackenzie put his arms on the table and leaned across them, his eyes piercing hers. “You are no’ responsible for your father, lass—he is responsible for you, aye? Why have you no’ married? A good man would provide for you and your brothers.”
Because the men who had tried to court her through the years had never earned her esteem? Because she dreamed of something bigger and better than that life on that tiny little island, of towns like Edinburgh and London, which she’d only heard about, but imagined so vividly? Because she was aware of the burden of her father and brothers that would accompany her into any marriage? Or was it perhaps because she liked being the one in charge when it suited her? The one whom everyone sought for answers?
“Surely you’ve been courted,” the captain said.
“Aye,” she sheepishly admitted. “But none of them ever really saw past my appearance. Verra much tongue-tied and...and stupid,” she said with some dismay.
The captain surprised her with a laugh. She’d never said these things aloud to anyone, and his charming, sincere smile buoyed her. “I’ve no doubt of that. You’re a beguiling woman, you are. Look at me—I’m your captive now, all because I was tongue-tied and a wee bit stupid.” He touched his tankard to hers and drank.
A wave of pleasure at his smile spun through her and curved on her lips. “Aye, but you didna trust me, it was obvious.”
“I trusted you enough, apparently.”
Lottie laughed. It felt strange in her chest, and to her ears. How long had it been since she’d laughed? She picked up her tankard and drank. The ale didn’t seem so sour now.
The captain’s gaze was sultry. “Aye, but you’re bonny when you smile, Lottie Livingstone, that you are,” he said softly, and her smile deepened. His gaze slipped to her mouth.
“Such flattery, Captain Mackenzie. Is it possible you’ve warmed to your captor?”
His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Warmed to her, aye. But no’ forgiven her.”
“I’d be disappointed if you had.”
He held her gaze. Lottie felt warmth spreading in her chest, felt the depth of his gaze slipping into her person. “Now you must confess to me, aye? Why have you never married? You’re verra handsome,” she said, and he inclined his head in acceptance of the compliment. “And a sea captain. I should think that would bring mothers and their unmarried daughters flocking to Balhaire. I believe you’re verra honorable when you’re no’ complaining about your circumstances.”
One of his dark brows rose. “My circumstances are no’ fit for a dog.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Why have you no’ married?”
He shrugged. “I suppose I never met a woman that would tempt me to surrender the sea.”
“The sea! Must you surrender for love?”
“Aye, perhaps. Unless there is a woman who should like to reside within a small cabin on the sea for days on end. It becomes quite close, would you no’ agree?”
The ale must have gone to her head because she giggled. “I would.”
“But it’s more than that, I suppose. I’ve never been in one place long enough to court a lady properly.” He drained the rest of the ale as if it might wash away the rest of this conversation.
“Does your family no’ insist upon it?” she asked curiously. “Yours is a powerful family. Do they no’ want to make a match for their most splendid son?”
“Splendid,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve two brothers and two sisters who are far more splendid than me. My family has made our matches there.”
She couldn’t imagine anyone more splendid than Captain Mackenzie. She regarded his face, the square cut of his jaw, the softly feathered lines around his eyes from days spent in the sun. His hair, combed into a queue, was gold on his crown where the sun shone on it day after day on the open sea. She truly couldn’t imagine that mothers weren’t depositing their daughters at his feet. “Might I be so bold to inquire after your given name?”
“Miss Livingstone, are we so familiar?”
She giggled again. “We’ve shared a cabin for three days and you call me Lottie.”
“Three days!” he mused, pretending shock, his eyes shining. “Then I agree, we should be more familiar.” His gaze shifted to her mouth, and Lottie felt a stirring in her blood. “Aulay.”
Aulay. She repeated it under her breath. An unexpected name for an unexpected man. “Feasgar math, Aulay,” she greeted him.
He smiled and said, “Feasgar math, Lottie.”
“Shall I tell you what I think?”
He swept his arm grandly. “Now that we are familiar, by all means, enlighten me.”
“I think, had I no’ kicked you at our first meeting, we might have been friends.”
He arched a brow with surprise. But his gaze was so warmly inviting, that for a moment, Lottie could well imagine that they might have been. He reached for her hand, twining his fingers with hers. “I think we might have been more than friends.”
Her heart leaped. And then it ballooned in her chest. And now? She was desperate to ask him, but she was no fool. She knew the sort of man he was—honorable. Lawful. He was a man who would protect his inheritance for his children and never squander it. He would never seize another ship. And he would not allow her to escape her crime, no matter the heat that seemed to flow between them. Strangely, if he’d been any other sort of man, she would not feel the sizzling in her veins as she did now. She would not hold him in such high regard.