"We don't fit in, you and me," he said. "We're both oddities no one knows what to do with. But we fit together." He took her hand, pressed her palm to his, then laced their fingers through each other's. "We fit."
"Why is she so stubborn? And disobedient?" Cameron barked a laugh. "Because Mackenzies always choose headstrong women. You didn't really expect her to obey you, did you? No matter what the marriage vows say?"
I do not think of him as Lord Ian Mackenzie, aristocratic brother of a duke and well beyond my reach; not as the Mad Mackenzie, an eccentric people stare at and whisper about.To me, he is simply Ian.
Ian closed his eyes. Beth watched emotions flicker across his face, the uncertainty, the stubbornness, the raw pain he'd lived with for so long. He didn't always know how to express his emotions, but that didn't mean he didn't feel them deeply.
When Ian slowly opened his eyes, he guided his gaze directly to Beth's. His golden eyes shimmered and sparkled, pupils ringed with green. He held her gaze steadily, not blinking, or shifting away.
"I love you," he said.
Beth caught her breath, and sudden tears blurred her vision.
"Love you," Ian repeated. His gaze bore into hers harder than Hart's ever could hope to. "Love you, love you, love you, love you, love you, love you"
When Ian slowly opened his eyes, he guided his gaze directly to Beth's. His golden eyes shimmered and sparkled, pupils ringed with green. He held her gaze steadily, not blinking, or shifting away.
"I love you," he said.
Beth caught her breath, and sudden tears blurred her vision.
"Love you," Ian repeated. His gaze bore into hers harder than Hart's ever could hope to. "Love you, love you, love you, love you, love you, love you"
Beth stared at the bowl, a fragile piece of the past, such a delicate object in Ian's large, blunt fingers. "Are you certain?"
"Of course I'm certain." His frown returned. "Do you not want it?"
"I do want it," Beth said hastily. She held her hands out for it. "I'm honored." The frown faded, to be replaced by a slight quirk of his lips.
"Is it better than a new carriage and horses and a dozen frocks?"
"What are you talking about? It's a hundred times better."
"It's only a bowl."
"It's special to you, and you gave it to me." Beth took it carefully and smiled at the dragons chasing one another in eternal determination. "It's the best gift in the world."
Ian took it gently back from her and replaced it in its slot. That made sense; in here it would stay safe and unbroken.
But the kiss Ian gave her after that was anything but sensible. It was wicked and bruising, and she had no idea why he smiled so triumphantly.
"Of course I'm certain." His frown returned. "Do you not want it?"
"I do want it," Beth said hastily. She held her hands out for it. "I'm honored." The frown faded, to be replaced by a slight quirk of his lips.
"Is it better than a new carriage and horses and a dozen frocks?"
"What are you talking about? It's a hundred times better."
"It's only a bowl."
"It's special to you, and you gave it to me." Beth took it carefully and smiled at the dragons chasing one another in eternal determination. "It's the best gift in the world."
Ian took it gently back from her and replaced it in its slot. That made sense; in here it would stay safe and unbroken.
But the kiss Ian gave her after that was anything but sensible. It was wicked and bruising, and she had no idea why he smiled so triumphantly.
"Why is she so stubborn? And disobedient?" Cameron barked a laugh. "Because Mackenzies always choose headstrong women. You didn't really expect her to obey you, did you? No matter what the marriage vows say?"
Ian cupped her chin and turned her face up to his. Then he did what he'd been practicing since the night on the train; he looked her fully in the eyes.
He couldn't always do it. Sometimes his gaze simply refused to obey, and he'd turn away with a growl. But more and more he'd been able to focus directly on her. Ian's eyes were beautiful, even more so when his pupils widened with desire. "Have I told you today that I love you?" he asked.
"A few dozen times. Not that I mind."
As a young woman who'd been starved for love much of her life, Beth lapped up Ian's generous outpouring of the words. He'd surprise her with them, catching her as she walked down the hall, pushing her up against a wall, breathing, "I love you." Or he'd tickle her awake and tell her while she tried to hit him with a pillow. The best was when he lay against her in the dark, fingers tracing her body. She treasured his whispered, "I love you."
He couldn't always do it. Sometimes his gaze simply refused to obey, and he'd turn away with a growl. But more and more he'd been able to focus directly on her. Ian's eyes were beautiful, even more so when his pupils widened with desire. "Have I told you today that I love you?" he asked.
"A few dozen times. Not that I mind."
As a young woman who'd been starved for love much of her life, Beth lapped up Ian's generous outpouring of the words. He'd surprise her with them, catching her as she walked down the hall, pushing her up against a wall, breathing, "I love you." Or he'd tickle her awake and tell her while she tried to hit him with a pillow. The best was when he lay against her in the dark, fingers tracing her body. She treasured his whispered, "I love you."
She heard the echoes of Ian's screams in her head. Beth pressed her forehead to his hands, her heart wrenching. Ian's hands were large, sinews hard under his kid-leather gloves. Yes, he was strong. In the Tuileres Gardens, it had taken both Mac and Curry to pull him away from Fellows. That didn't mean others could try to tear at that strength, try to defeat him. The doctors in the horrible asylum had done it, and now Fellows was trying to.
I'm falling in love with you, she wanted to say into their clasped hands. Do you mind awfully?
I'm falling in love with you, she wanted to say into their clasped hands. Do you mind awfully?
Explain to me what loving feels like, Beth. I want to understand.
"...Illegitimate children can be left money, but they can't inherit the peerage."
"You wouldn't want it," Cameron put in. "More trouble than it's worth. And for God's sake, don't murder Hart or I'm next."
"You wouldn't want it," Cameron put in. "More trouble than it's worth. And for God's sake, don't murder Hart or I'm next."
"I'm not a bloodhound, your lordships."
"Woof, woof," Cameron said, giving Fellows an evil grin. "Good dog."
"Woof, woof," Cameron said, giving Fellows an evil grin. "Good dog."
She liked to laugh that a young widow who'd just come into a good fortune must be, to misquote Jane Austen, in want of a husband.
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