“I'm sorry your chair collapsed, but the furnishings are in as poor repair as the roof."He retrieved his abandoned glass of sherry."I assume the rook leaks.""Only when it rains."His eyes warmed with laughter as he watched her over the rim of his glass. "I'm surprised you countenance this place.""I'm here for my father. Once he returns and you take the house, I will be on my way.""May I ask where?""Italy,perhaps. Or France." She shrugged. "I haven't yet decided.""I love Italy." His voice deepened the faintest bit. "I imagine Italy would love you,too.”

“I daresay he is not happy that his daughter is now unchaperoned. A gentleman would bid his adieu.""You can't leave!"The words hung in the air.Sophia hid a wince and said again, in a more measured tone, "I'm sorry. I'm distraught over my father."MacLean gave her a devastatingly sexy half-smile. "You misunderstood me; I said, a gentleman would bid his adieu." His voice, low and soft, rolled over her senses like liguid silk. "Fortunately for us both, I am not a gentleman.""No?" She flicked a finger at the lace on his wrist. "You dress like one.""I dress like a dandy. Or,as my oldest brother, Alexander, often says, like a 'damned dandy.'"Her lips quirked. "Your brother sounds a bit harsh.""You have no idea." He smiled. "As I was saying, dressing fashionably does not make me a gentleman.""Fine.You are not a gentleman, and I am far from a child," she returned with a lofty wave of her hand. "I don't need my father's presence for protection.""But perhaps I do."She had to smile. "You don't need protection from me, Lord MacLean. I don't bite-though if I don't get something to eat soon, I may change my mind."His eyes sparkled with laughter. "By all means, then, let us eat." He led the way to the dining room, standing aside to allow her to enter.As she brushed past him, a hot sensation told her that his gaze was lingering on her posterior. She glanced back and found that she was correct. "Lord MacLean!"He reluctantly lifted hia gaze. "Yes?""Is something wrong with my gown?""No.There's absolutely nothing wrong with your gown. Or what's in it."She should have been shocked by his impropriety but instead was pleased he'd noticed. "Thank you. I must say..." She allowed her gaze to travel across him. "You fill your clothes well, too.”

“He was going to enjoy pressing his little scheming hostess into improprieties she'd not soon forget. He didn't need a storm to make his point; he had his own powers of persuasion-and he'd use them all on her.He led her to the library, to the table holding the sherry. "Will you do the honors?" He leaned forward and added in a low voice, "Or perhaps you'd like us to do it together-your hand under mine, your fingers wrapped around the neck of the decanter as we-"Color flooded her cheeks, and she said in a breathless voice, "I will be glad to pour us some sherry-though I'm surprised you wish for some more.""It is wretched, but your cook has ruined my palate.When I return to London, I won't know good port from bad, burned meat from raw, and don't begin to talk to me about soups.”

“Not used to be being bested, are you?""No," he said bluntly. "Poseidon could outrun your mare, and you know it. But I'm not about to risk galloping over a field I don't know. There could have been rabbit holes.""Of course.Rabbit holes.I understand."He frowned,about to defend his actions further, when he noted a twinkle in her gaze. The little minx was taunting him. For some reason, that improved his mood, and he said with a smile, "Sophia, my love, don't tempt a sinner. I am not afraid of you or your horse, and you damn well know it.""I'm sure you have a reason for not wishing to race," she returned in a demure voice, though her eyes sparkled with laughter. "I am just not certain you have a just cause.""I have both. The reason for not racing you is the potential harm to the animals; and the just cause is that I wish to keep you alone for as long as possible. And that will be more difficult to do once we reach the house."Her brows rose, a faint color touching her cheeks. "Oh."His lips twitched. "That's all you can say now? After all that posturing? You are a tease,my lady.""I don't consider myself so.""No woman does, and yet most are.”

“Fiona, my love, as much as I adore you, I cannot stand your brothers. Any of them.""Gregor is much nicer now that he's married. Even you must admit that.""Only when Venetia is with him. When she's not, he's as annoying as ever."Fiona's lips quirked into a smile, her green eyes gleaming. "Rather like you, I hear.""Who has been carrying tales?""Everyone." She placed her hand on her husband's cheek and smiled up into his blue eyes. With his dark auburn hair and devastating good looks, "Black Jack" Kincaid had once been the scourge of London's polite society. Now he was her own personal scourge, one she couldn't imagine living without.”

“Perhaps I should just leave after all."She whirled on him. "No! I'm just trying to find the right words,and I-oh,it's complicated!""Lies usually are."She wetted her lips. "Lies?"He raised his brow.She sighed, her shoulders slumping, an expression almost of relief crossing her face. "You know."Dougal nodded."Everything?"He nodded again."How we tried to conceal the house's value? And disguised the beautiful paneling in the library? And-""Blocked up the chimneys and hid the good furnishings and served me food a dead man would refuse."She bit her lip. "I'm sorry about that.""No,you're not. You wanted me unhappy and uncomfortable.""Well,yes-but not very uncomfortable.”

“Jack! Pray tell Miss MacFarlane that the roads are impassable.""The roads are impassable," he replied immediately."And that she should stay at least another day.""You should stay at least another day," he repeated, a twinkle in his eyes.Fiona nodded. "And that she is more then welcome here.""I am certain she knows that.""And how we'd love to have her for another week, at least,and-"Jack laughed and took his wife's hand. "Fiona, my love, I believe Miss MacFarlane is very aware that we both wish her to stay."Sophia had to smile. "I am very flattered, but we really must go. There've been so many unexpected storms that the roads could easily get worse."Jack snorted a laugh while Fiona glanced up the stairs. "Haven't there been," she said grimly before returning to gaze at Sophia. "I am so disappointed you are leaving."There was genuine warmth in Fiona's voice. "I am, too,but I must get back to my father, who has been ill. I was only to be gone one day, and he'll worry if I don't return immediately.""I suppose you can't-""She's not going anywhere."Sophia closed her eyes at the deep voice from the top of the stairs. Her enitre body had tightened at the sound, traitor that it was.Dougal came down the stairs to stand before Sophia, his expressioin guarded and tense. "Fiona,Jack, would you mind giving me a few moments' private speech with Miss MacFarlane?""Will you attempt to persuade her to stay?" Fiona asked in a hopeful tone."Absolutely." His dark gaze never left Sophia."Very well," his sister said, taking her husband's arm. "Come,Jack. I'm famished."He sent a stern glance at Dougal. "We will be in the breakfast room if we're needed.""You won't be needed," Dougal snapped."Jack,stop it," Fiona hissed. She tugged him into the breakfast room and closed the door.”