Getting To Know You

M akenna often thought there must be something wrong with her. Once again she'd rebuffed a man's attentions but, this time, she'd wanted Ash's kiss, ached to kiss those full lips. Instead, she'd scolded him.

"I apologize," he said, taking a step back. "You're right. I wasn't really listening."

"But ye professed a wish to examine the books," she replied, unsure what to make of the disappointment in his blue eyes.

"That was a pretext, Miss Guthrie. I simply wanted to get close to you."

Was this the womanizer speaking, or a man who genuinely found her attractive? "Why?" she asked.

"I can't explain it," he replied with a sigh. "You don't even like me, and I admit I didn't care for you much when we first met. I wasn't in a good place what with the journey and the rain. Turns out I'm not a good sailor, and you must know I was forced to come to Scotland against my will."

Makenna had a choice. He'd given her what she suspected was a rare glimpse of vulnerability. She could take a risk and be honest, or deny her feelings. "I dinna dislike ye, Ash," she whispered.

His frown fled. He came so close she inhaled the aroma of a man who's done an honest day's hard work. "I'm drawn to you," he confessed.

"And I to ye," she murmured.

"May I kiss you?"

Alarm bells went off in her head. She craved his kiss, but was she giving in too readily to the subtle charms of a rake? "I'd have to know ye better first," she said reluctantly.

"Of course," he replied with a forced smile. "What if Lady Maureen invites you for dinner?"

It seemed a reasonably safe proposition. "If she agrees."

"No, I mean this evening. Come home with me now."

Tempted to agree, she nevertheless had to object. "I canna simply turn up uninvited."

"We're in the highlands," he teased. "I'm told there's no formality here. Lady Maureen's cook seems to make too much food in any case."

He was clever. What he said was true, but was she being manipulated? If so, she didn't care. What harm was there in agreeing? "Ye're right. Lady Maureen willna mind if I turn up."

As he and Makenna walked to Lockie House, Ash thought back on what he'd said. "Come home with me." The strange thing was he'd said it without thinking. How could he feel at home in a rundown old house where he'd lived for two days?

The impromptu assignation with a woman could never have happened in London. Not with a decent woman, anyway. And Makenna Guthrie was a decent woman, a welcome change from the tarts he'd consorted with since his return from the front. Society and his family considered him a rake, yet he felt like a green youth escorting a girl for the first time. His body and his heart were experiencing yearnings he'd never felt before.

The autumn evening had turned chilly. "Winter's on its way," she said, rubbing her upper arms.

Overheated by her nearness, he shrugged off his topcoat and settled it on her shoulders. "Not far now."

"Aye," she replied. "My thanks. 'Tis kind o' ye."

Her words punched him in the gut. He used to be a kind man—well bred, well-mannered. The horrors of Waterloo had ground the kindness out of him. War had maimed Rowan and driven Thorne out of their lives. "I haven't been accused of that in along while," he said lamely. "You bring out the best in me."

As Makenna might have expected, Lady Maureen Graham welcomed her warmly and shrugged off any suggestion it was inappropriate to simply turn up uninvited. "I'm right glad to see ye," she insisted, though she arched a brow when Ash excused himself to go clean up. "I thought ye didna like our guest."

"I didna at first," Makenna admitted. "But a body shouldna rush to judgement, which is what I did."

"Aye. I'm glad ye've seen there's more to Ash Halstead than a profligate. Ye must remember he fought against Napoleon at Waterloo and in several other battles."

Her husband nodded his agreement. "We canna know what horrors he witnessed and war can have a terrible effect on men."

"Aye," Lady Maureen agreed. "War certainly changed him. He wasna always a reprobate."

"I kent he was in the army," Makenna replied with a shudder. "But I ne'er considered he might have been at Waterloo."

"Best ye dinna mention it," Jock advised. "But I think he needs a friend to help him adjust here."

"I can be his friend, if he wishes," Makenna said. "But he's the son of a duke."

Lady Maureen chuckled. "Just remember. I'm the highland lass who eloped with an English nobleman. At the time, neither of us kent he would inherit a dukedom. My son's the Duke of Ramsay now but Kenneth married a girl from here. Mayhap Ash will find the right lass in the highlands."

Makenna had no opportunity to ponder this notion further when Ash returned to the kitchen and smiled at her, his long hair still damp. She knew in that moment she was falling in love with him and that it would be pure folly to think he might care for her.

Ash would have loved to soak in a hot bath to ease away the aches and pains of two days hard labor. However, asking for a bath to be drawn would set the cantankerous Mrs. Simon off on one of her tirades about Sassenachs. It would also delay his return to the kitchen and to Makenna. He therefore opted for removing his shirt and quickly dowsing his head and torso under the frigid water from the pump in the back yard. Shivering, he ran upstairs and changed clothes, deciding shirtsleeves would suffice for the occasion. Feeling refreshed and unconstrained by a tightly tied cravat, he bounded down to the kitchen.

As he expected, Makenna was chatting comfortably with his hosts. Her genuine smile confirmed his suspicion he was falling in love with her. But he had to proceed with caution. He couldn't woo her in the same glib manner he'd coaxed tarts into his bed. Not that they needed much coaxing. Makenna was different and it was imperative he not hurt her. For the first time in his life he cared about a woman's feelings. The difficulty lay in the inescapable reality that he was of noble birth and she was a commoner. However, his sister had married a commoner. If Willow could marry Niven King, why couldn't Ash Halstead marry Makenna Guthrie?

His heart raced. Two days in the highlands and he was contemplating marriage!