“Blast the man! How dare he pack his bags and ride away after all the work she'd done! Worse, how dare he do it while looking so damned appealing?”

“He moved to the faded red chair she'd indicated. As he lowered himself into it, there was a loud crack. One of the wooden legs snapped and broke, just as Sophia and Angus had planned when they'd sawed it half-through.A normal man would have been tossed to the floor, but with a little twist, MacLean shifted his weight forward and managed to remain upright, turning to regard the chair as it collapsed.Sophia swept to her feet. "Goodness! How horrid!" She narrowed her gaze accusingly at the chair. There was nothing like a little humiliation to set a man against a location, and it was a pity MacLean hadn't been thrown to the floor as she'd planned.MacLean bent and picked up a piece of the broken chair, his expression unfathomable. "Horrid, indead."Her desire to smile fled. Did he suspect something? Could he see where Angus had cut the chair let partway through?MacLean hefted the leg in his hand, his mouth thinned.Sophia cleared her throat. "I'll call the butler to remove that."His gaze locked with hers.The chair leg still in his hand,he walked toward her.Sophia licked her suddenly dry lips. She didn't know this man, not really. What was he going to do?She gripped the arms of her chair. Should she run for help? Surely not. Nothing she'd heard had indicated MacLean was a man of violence. Of course, everything she knew of him was mere heresay-He stopped before her and stook looking down into her face with the faintest of smiles. He didn't look angry; he looked knowing. As if he understood exactly what she'd done and why.A fear of another kind gripped her. Surely, he didn't. There was no way he could-MacLean leaned forward. Sophia's heart jumped, her skin warming oddly when his arm brushed her shoulder as he leaned past her...and tossed the chair leg onto the unlit fireplace.”

“Though he may dally with loose women, he's been raised a gentleman. He would never touch me unless I gave him permission." He might use incredibly powerful seduction tactics, but that was her problem, not Angus's."Aye," Mary said. "Don't ye remember how the miss took care o' the squire's son when he tried to kiss her in the garden?" She beamed at Sophia. "That was well done."Sophia grinned. "He limped for a week"Angus grunted. "The squire's son isn't half the man this one is. This is no boy ye're dealin' with here. He's a man's man;ye can see it in his eyes."She placed a hand on his arm. "Angus, if it will make you feel better, I promise to call for help if MacLean so much as looks askance at me.”

“Yes,I was thinking about a nap,then..." He shrugged and glanced away. He didn't have to wait long."Oh,dear! The mattress was too lumpy, wasn't it?" Her rich voice lowered with false compassion. "I'm so sorry about that. Red refuses to purchase new mattress ticking when-""You misunderstood," Dougal said. "I didn't intend to take a nap, just to rest. However, the bed was so comfortable that I fell asleep anyway."Sophia opened her mouth,then closed it. She'd spent hours stuffing his feather mattress with straw, wood chips, stones,and sticks. How could he posibly have slept? "How...how fortunate for you.My bed is as hard as a rock."He leaned forward, so close that his lapel brushed her cheek, the scent of sandalwood engulfing her as he whispered in her ear, "Perhaps you need another opinion...about your bed.”

“Angus, when you're done with the brick, I shall add some oiled rags. That will make it smoke even worse."Angus turned an admiring glance at his partner in crime. "Miss,ye've a gift fer this,ye do."She chuckled,the sound just as seductive, except for the hint of mockery. "I'm becoming as adept at this as the new owner is at shirking his duty.""Now,miss,he might have a good reason not to rush here.""Like what?""I don't know.Perhaps he won several houses at the card game and has been visitin' them all.""It's far more likely he was waylaid by a lass with loose morals. From what I hear, the man's a lace-bedecked profligate."Blast the woman and her rude assumptions! He may have stayed in Stirling to sample the charms of a widow, but that did not make a lace-bedecked profligate.What burned the most was that she was correct in her assumption about what had kept him away from his new acquisition.”

“Why would he bother? He has no more wish to wed than I.”“How do you know?” Anthony asked. “Did you ask him?”Her face heated, and Anthony covered his eyes. “Pray do not say another word. I don’t wish to know.”“Bridgeton had a choice, Sara,” Marcus said. “And he chose marriage.”“Get married or die. I vow, how did he make up his mind so quickly?”“I wanted to shoot him,” Anthony offered. “But Marcus would not allow it.”“You are both insufferable!”

“It took all of her moral strength not to kick him—just a little—while he was so conveniently at her feet.”