When a Scot Ties the Knot by Tessa Dare Page B

ever known. He wasn’t going to let them down.
    For the first two courses, they simply ate in awed silence.
    Rabbie, of course, would ruin it as soon as the edge of hunger was gone. “I must say, Mrs. MacKenzie, what the captain told us about you . . . Well, it did not do ye justice.”
    Maddie cast him a worried glance.
    â€œOh?” Aunt Thea asked. “What did Captain MacKenzie say about her?”
    â€œVerra little, ma’am. But if it were me who’d been so fortunate, every man in the regiment would be sick of hearing my boasting.”
    Munro snorted. “Every man in the regiment was sick of hearing your boasting anyway.”
    With a bashful smile, Maddie set down her wineglass. She touched a fingertip to her collarbone, idly stroking up and down the slender ridge.
    She did that when she was nervous, Logan had noticed. Unfortunately, the little gesture that she found soothing did not have a similar effect on him. On the contrary—­it inflamed his every base desire.
    He swallowed hard, unable to tear his gaze away from that single, delicate fingertip stroking back and forth. And back and forth. It was as though he could feel that gentle, teasing touch on his skin. Or on his—­
    â€œSo, Captain,” Callum said, sawing through a joint of mutton. “Now that we’re all together, tell us the full story. Start at the beginning. How did ye woo her?”
    Logan gave himself a brisk shake and turned his attention to his plate. “The usual way.”
    â€œAs I told ye, ma’am,” Rabbie said. “He’s a man of few words.”
    â€œA man of few words?” Aunt Thea said. “But surely you’re mistaken. Can this be the same man who wrote our Madling so many beautiful letters?”
    â€œLetters?”
    â€œOh, yes. He sent our Madling reams of love letters. So eloquent and well expressed.”
    What the devil was this about? Logan sent a sharply inquiring glance at Maddie. She bit her lip and stared into her wine.
    â€œI’m certain she saved them all. Madling, why don’t you bring them down so the Captain can read a few? I always wished we could hear them in that delightful Scots brogue.”
    â€œThat will not be necessary,” Logan said.
    â€œPerhaps not necessary,” the older woman said, “but I think it would be sweet.”
    That word again. Sweet.
    â€œNo one wants to hear them.”
    At the far end of the table, Callum grinned. “Oh, I’d like to hear them.”
    His eager sentiment was seconded by every other man at the table, save Grant.
    â€œPerhaps another time, Aunt Thea,” Maddie said. “We’re in the middle of a meal. The letters are in my dressing table all the way upstairs. As hostess, I can’t leave our guests.”
    â€œIt’s out of the question,” Logan agreed.
    â€œOf course it is,” Aunt Thea replied. “You stay right here, Madling. I’ll go fetch them myself.”
    With that, the elderly woman was gone from the room before Logan and his men could even rise from their chairs as a mark of respect.
    As soon as she was gone, Logan slid closer to his secretive bride. “What is she talking about?”
    She murmured her response from behind her wineglass. “Well, I had to make up your side of the correspondence, didn’t I? It wouldn’t have been believable otherwise.”
    â€œAnd what, exactly, did this version of me say?”
    A glint of amusement warmed her brown eyes. “Perhaps you should have made this inquiry before you pressured me into a hasty wedding. Whatever is in those letters, you’re stuck with it now.”
    Holy God. Logan shuddered to imagine what utter foolishness a romantic sixteen-­year-­old chit like Madeline Gracechurch would put into the mouth of a Highland officer.
    This could be bad. Verra bad.
    â€œPerhaps we could make a trade,” she whispered. “I’ll give you back