“Of course I love you.” She gazed up at him and he saw it there. In her gorgeous smoky eyes. “But I am betrothed to him.”
He kissed her. Couldn’t not. “He released you from the betrothal.”
She blinked. “He did?” A frown furrowed her brow. “But he was adamant…”
“I offered him something he wanted more. Come now, Kaitlin. Let’s leave this musty keep and find a chapel or a blacksmith or something.”
“That is so very sweet, Edward. But we can’t really be married.”
His heart plunged. “Why not?”
“You’re a duke.”
“I’m aware of that.”
She sighed. “You’re a duke and I’m a…”
“A what?” An angel? The woman who rescued his soul from oblivion? The reason he drew breath?
“I’m a fallen woman.” This, she hissed.
He laughed. Hell, he’d debauched her plenty himself. He’d really like to do it again. As her wedded husband. Tonight. “You think I give a fig about that?”
Her expression took on a mutinous light. “Society will.”
He laughed harder. “Society gets even fewer figs. No figs, in fact. They are figless in my estimation.”
There it was. Her smile.
He’d missed it.
“Marry me, Kaitlin. Be my wife. Make me the happiest duke in Christendom.”
She tipped her head to the side. “I can be quite a shrew at times.” She leaned in. “Just ask the McCloud.”
“Were you a virago?” A smile crept over his face at the thought.
“Why do you think his men fled?”
A guffaw escaped him, unbidden. He loved that she could make him laugh unexpectedly. He kissed her. The kiss deepened. Threatened to become something else entirely.
“Your Grace,” Ned called. His tone was not deferential in the least. “We need to go.”
Kaitlin turned her head—ending the kiss—and glanced at the McCloud. Why she had to keep glancing at him, Edward could not fathom. “We should go.”
“Yes. We should.” They had a big day ahead of them. A bigger night.
Perhaps they could find a willing smithy in Dundee who had a hankering for performing a marriage.
One thing Edward knew for certain, he was not waiting any longer than he absolutely had to, to have her again.
* * * * *
He did have to wait, as it happened.
He had to wait until Hortense could find Kaitlin a dress of some kind. The vicar they’d discovered was staying at their inn refused to perform a marriage when the bride was not clothed.
Damn Scots and their prickly customs.