Amanda Scott (31 page)

“Tell them to go away,” he murmured, his breath, despite its warmth, blowing cold shivers in its path, making her neck arch in a tickle reflex.

“Abberley, you’ve been a very long time in there!”

“Aunt Marget, are you there? Aunt Celeste let me ride my pony all the way over here. I was her escort, so footpads would not attack her in the beech wood.” Timothy’s voice was high-pitched in his excitement. “Why are you in the tower room? Are you truly there, Aunt Marget?”

“I’m here, Timothy,” Margaret replied, grinning at the earl. “I could have used your assistance against footpads myself.”

“Were you set upon, Aunt Marget? Oh, open the door and tell us all about it. Do, please!”

Margaret chuckled, then said in an undertone, “I think if one of us is going to tell them to go away, it ought to be you, my lord.”

“Damn.” He straightened and stepped away from her. But despite the epithet, she knew he wasn’t at all angry. His eyes glinted with suppressed laughter. “I wonder what they are doing here,” he said innocently.

“Some seduction,” Margaret retorted, unable to resist teasing him, “I expect they have been here all afternoon, just waiting to play gooseberry.”

He did not deny it. Neither did he respond to the renewed battering at the door or to Lady Celeste’s demands to be told whether he meant to stay in the tower room all day. Instead, he grinned at Margaret. “My intentions have always been honorable, sweetheart, though you might have at least have given me the satisfaction of doubting some of my methods.”

“The abduction frightened me and made me angry,” she told him, “but I couldn’t fear you, sir, if that is what you intended. If my honor is in jeopardy, ’tis my own fault, not yours.” There was warmth in his eyes now, a look that made her feel as though he still touched her, although he had released her when he had stepped away. “You must answer Aunt Celeste, Adam,” she pointed out a moment later when neither of them had yet moved. “She is perfectly capable of sending for men to break the door down if you do not.”

“So she is,” he agreed.

“Did you truly think I would need the both of them?”

“No, merely that if I invited Aunt Celeste and you to dine with me, Timothy might feel neglected.”

“Liar.”

He grinned again. “You still have not agreed to marry me, sweetheart. If you do not do so by the time I count to five, I shall have to send Aunt Celeste and Timothy away again, shall I not?”

She grinned back, saying nothing.

“One … two …”

“Adam,” she said softly, stepping toward him, “if you count more quickly, you can send them away all the sooner, you know.”

“Abberley!” Lady Celeste’s voice was sharp and clear. “Answer me, young man. I can hear the two of you muttering in there, and I demand to know how matters are progressing. Answer me at once. Has she agreed to marry you, or not?”

Abberley smiled at Margaret, now in his arms. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, raising his voice enough so the words would be clear to the lady on the other side of the door, “I believe she has, so if you would very kindly take Timothy away and leave us to discuss the matter at some length, I shall tell you all about it later.”

Margaret stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

“If she has agreed to marry you,” said Lady Celeste, “then come out of that room at once, the both of you. ’Tis monstrous improper, being locked in there together like that. I cannot think how I came to agree to be a party to all of this. Indeed, I cannot.”

“Aunt Celeste?”

“Yes, Margaret dear, what is it?”

“Go away, Aunt Celeste.”

There was a chuckle from the other side of the door. “One may play a good card too often,” said the old lady. “I am glad to know that has not been the case today. I shall see you both at dinner.”

They could hear her footsteps and Timothy’s going down the stairs. Then there was a small silence before Abberley said, “Well?”

“Well, what?” She was looking at his waistcoat button again.

“You still have not said you will marry me.”

“Have I not, sir?”

“You know very well you have not.”

She regarded him from under her lashes. “Do you still intend to keep me here like this until I do agree, Adam?”

He chuckled. “I begin to believe you don’t look upon those words as a threat, brat.”

“No, sir.”

He gave her a little shake. “Marget, dammit, will you say the words I want to hear?”

“But what of the Fates? Do we dare tempt them so sorely?”

“I’ll show you ‘sorely,’” he threatened, giving her another shake.

She snuggled against him. “You won’t,” she said confidently. “You are too much the protector, sir, and I have come to depend upon you too much in that role. You warned me once not to do so, but I do all the time and you have never really let me down.”

“Yes, I did, once, but I won’t let you down again, love. When I said those words to you, I was not myself. Indeed, I find I like myself a deal better now that I have taken command of things again. I don’t mind at all that you or Timothy depend upon me.”

“Well, I like it very much indeed. I should not like to think about a life without you, sir. Therefore,” she added in more formal tones, “I believe I shall have to marry you.”

“An excellent notion.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Will you show me the secret panel in your bedchamber?”

“I’ll show you anything you like,” he promised, grinning at her.

A fourth-generation Californian of Scottish descent, Amanda Scott is the author of more than fifty romantic novels, many of which appeared on the
USA Today
bestseller list. Her Scottish heritage and love of history (she received undergraduate and graduate degrees in history at Mills College and California State University, San Jose, respectively) inspired her to write historical fiction. Credited by
Library Journal
with starting the Scottish romance subgenre, Scott has also won acclaim for her sparkling Regency romances. She is the recipient of the Romance Writers of America’s RITA Award (for
Lord Abberley’s Nemesis
, 1986) and the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award. She lives in central California with her husband.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1986 by Lynne Scott-Drennan

Cover design by Mimi Bark

978-1-4804-1526-3

This edition published in 2013 by Open Road Integrated Media

345 Hudson Street

New York, NY 10014

www.openroadmedia.com