fingers.
“I feel like a particularly succulent roast on a platter,” he said with obvious humor in his voice.
Her gaze skipped to his face, and she saw the same humor reflected in his eyes and mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” he said. “Perhaps you’ll want a taste later.”
The innuendo was there. The male interest. The totally inappropriate interest, considering their respective roles. “You said you had no designs on my person,” she reminded him.
“You didna make the same claim, I’m thankful to say.”
She stopped in the middle of the worn footpath that edged the duke’s land and turned to confront him with her hands on her hips. How he could look so masculine holding a woven basket on his arm? “Even if I found you attractive—”
“Then you do?” he said with a grin meant to charm, and which, she had to admit, was quite charming.
“Even if I found you attractive,” she repeated through gritted teeth, “I could not possibly indulge such an interest. I have an obligation to marry where it will best serve my clan.”
“Even if you canna like the man?” he said, the grin gone.
“My feelings canna matter,” Kitt said. “My father made that plain to me before his death.”
“I dinna understand such thinking.”
She started walking again, unwilling to endure his disapproving look. “You must see we are a poor clan,” she said. “Even more so since the Duke of Blackthorne began raising the rents to force us off our land.”
“Greedy, is he?”
“He’s raised the rents thrice in a year. Most can barely feed their bairns after they’ve given the duke his due.”
“Have you confronted him and asked for relief?” Alex questioned.
“He wasna here to confront,” Kitt retorted. “He lives—lived—far away in the south of England wherehe couldna see the damage his demands wrought. Now he’s dead and heaven only knows what Blackthorne bastard will replace him.”
“Perhaps the new duke will be more sympathetic to your plight.”
“I’m not counting on it,” Kitt said. “I had only one hope of saving my people, and that died with the duke. I tell you, Alex, it has been a very long six months since my father died and named me his successor.”
“Why did he pick you to be The MacKinnon? Why not one of your clansmen?” Alex asked.
“I was not his first choice,” Kitt admitted with a rueful smile. “He wanted Ian MacDougal to lead after him. But I refused to marry Ian.”
“Why?”
“I didna love him.” She looked up at him and continued, “My father was too proud to admit he couldna control his own daughter and too stubborn to choose someone else. He named me as chief only because I … I finally agreed to marry a husband of his choice.”
“So you’re to marry Ian MacDougal after all?”
Kitt shook her head. “No. Not Ian. Someone else. An
Englishman
.” She could not keep the venom from her voice.
“Is it all Englishmen you hate, or is there someone in particular you loathe?” Alex asked. “I mean, aside from Blackthorne raising the rents, what have the English done to you?”
“There was Culloden,” Kitt replied.
“That was more than fifty years ago,” Alex said.
“The Scots will never forget … or forgive.”
“I’ll remember that,” Alex said. “But tell me, recently, what harm has an Englishman done to you?”
Kitt turned to face him, her eyes bleak. “They killed the man I loved.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sympathy willna bring him back,” she snarled.
“How did it happen?”
“Leith was caught poaching on Blackthorne land and transported. He died on board ship before he ever reached Australia.”
“He was breaking the law,” Alex pointed out.
“Leith only sought to feed his starving brothers and sisters,” Kitt said. “Starving because the bastard Duke of Blackthorne raised the rents once too often.”
“What happened to Leith’s brothers and sisters?”
“They moved away to Glasgow. Even so, the two
“I feel like a particularly succulent roast on a platter,” he said with obvious humor in his voice.
Her gaze skipped to his face, and she saw the same humor reflected in his eyes and mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” he said. “Perhaps you’ll want a taste later.”
The innuendo was there. The male interest. The totally inappropriate interest, considering their respective roles. “You said you had no designs on my person,” she reminded him.
“You didna make the same claim, I’m thankful to say.”
She stopped in the middle of the worn footpath that edged the duke’s land and turned to confront him with her hands on her hips. How he could look so masculine holding a woven basket on his arm? “Even if I found you attractive—”
“Then you do?” he said with a grin meant to charm, and which, she had to admit, was quite charming.
“Even if I found you attractive,” she repeated through gritted teeth, “I could not possibly indulge such an interest. I have an obligation to marry where it will best serve my clan.”
“Even if you canna like the man?” he said, the grin gone.
“My feelings canna matter,” Kitt said. “My father made that plain to me before his death.”
“I dinna understand such thinking.”
She started walking again, unwilling to endure his disapproving look. “You must see we are a poor clan,” she said. “Even more so since the Duke of Blackthorne began raising the rents to force us off our land.”
“Greedy, is he?”
“He’s raised the rents thrice in a year. Most can barely feed their bairns after they’ve given the duke his due.”
“Have you confronted him and asked for relief?” Alex questioned.
“He wasna here to confront,” Kitt retorted. “He lives—lived—far away in the south of England wherehe couldna see the damage his demands wrought. Now he’s dead and heaven only knows what Blackthorne bastard will replace him.”
“Perhaps the new duke will be more sympathetic to your plight.”
“I’m not counting on it,” Kitt said. “I had only one hope of saving my people, and that died with the duke. I tell you, Alex, it has been a very long six months since my father died and named me his successor.”
“Why did he pick you to be The MacKinnon? Why not one of your clansmen?” Alex asked.
“I was not his first choice,” Kitt admitted with a rueful smile. “He wanted Ian MacDougal to lead after him. But I refused to marry Ian.”
“Why?”
“I didna love him.” She looked up at him and continued, “My father was too proud to admit he couldna control his own daughter and too stubborn to choose someone else. He named me as chief only because I … I finally agreed to marry a husband of his choice.”
“So you’re to marry Ian MacDougal after all?”
Kitt shook her head. “No. Not Ian. Someone else. An
Englishman
.” She could not keep the venom from her voice.
“Is it all Englishmen you hate, or is there someone in particular you loathe?” Alex asked. “I mean, aside from Blackthorne raising the rents, what have the English done to you?”
“There was Culloden,” Kitt replied.
“That was more than fifty years ago,” Alex said.
“The Scots will never forget … or forgive.”
“I’ll remember that,” Alex said. “But tell me, recently, what harm has an Englishman done to you?”
Kitt turned to face him, her eyes bleak. “They killed the man I loved.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sympathy willna bring him back,” she snarled.
“How did it happen?”
“Leith was caught poaching on Blackthorne land and transported. He died on board ship before he ever reached Australia.”
“He was breaking the law,” Alex pointed out.
“Leith only sought to feed his starving brothers and sisters,” Kitt said. “Starving because the bastard Duke of Blackthorne raised the rents once too often.”
“What happened to Leith’s brothers and sisters?”
“They moved away to Glasgow. Even so, the two
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