“You don't have to say a thing except yes. You don't have to do anything, either, I'm quite willing to plan it all." "You?""Yes me.""You'd plan all of it? Even the wedding?""Why not?""You don't even like to plan your own breakfast."He grinned. "You mean more to me tban bacon.""More than [i]bacon?[/i] I'm honored.""You should be, my foolish pea brain.”

“If you leave within the hour, you can make it by nightfall. With this rain, I wouldn't wait longer. The stream is close to covering the bridge already."Sophia had to smile. "Anxious to get rid of me?""Aye.I'm tried of seeing your long face over the breakfast table."She laughed a little. "Red,I don't understand. Why are you so insistent about this?""Because if anyone knows the cost of lost opportunities, it's me. Sometimes you have to grab life by the horns and ride it,even if it tries to throw you. I don't want to see you spending the rest of your life wincing every time you say this man's name.”

“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.”

“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.”

“You told me he was dead."Red said through his teeth, "There was no point,for there's no meaner, more petty man in all of God's England.""At least I'm not a wastrel," the old man snapped.Red started toward the old man, but Sophia stepped between them. "Red, don't."He looked as if he might burst into flames, then snapped, "I came to get you, Sophie.Have Mary bring your things, and let's go.”

“Stop that! What were you doing, perched on the window ledge like a big chicken?"Despite his aches and irritations, he couldn't help but grin. "I prefer to think of myself as a more noble bird, like a hawk.""I'm sure you do. But you flew like a chicken than any hawk I've seen.”

“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.”