Love in the Time of a Highland Laird (A Laird for All Time Book 3) by Angeline Fortin (bill gates books to read .TXT) 📕

wine and filled his own plate, but she could feel his eyes on her the whole while. Warm and assessing, like a physical touch, it had her skin tingling once again. “Something good, I hope?”

“Thoughts of ye are always pleasant.” The quick response brought a smile to her lips. “My imagination regarding the future of travel hae been most diverting.”

She pursed her lips, feeling a stab of self-deprecation. She kept having to remind herself that for all his gratifying attention to her person, his true fascination was for the glimpse into the future she provided him.

“Ye dinnae ride horses,” he said, unaware of her disillusionment as he looked away and dug into his food. “Why is that? Has the animal population been depleted in some way?”

“No.” She sighed in resignation and cut into her pie. “There are still horses and people do ride them, for sport and pleasure mostly. In about a hundred years, cars will be invented. Picture a horseless carriage. That’s what they first called them. A carriage propelled by a machine, an engine.”

“An engine? How did it work? Was it steam powered?”

Leave it to Keir. It was never enough for him to just know what would happen or what would change. He wanted to know how it worked, who had invented it. In many cases, he wanted her to draw out a schematic for the internal workings of machines she had limited or superficial exposure to. He couldn’t quite accept there were things she didn’t know about. It flattered her that he gave her so much credit.

Frustrating that all their conversations constantly returned to what knowledge she had to impart. That endless, insatiable thirst for more was maddening, infuriating…

Oh, she sighed. Who was she kidding? She was just the same, her entire life dedicated on wanting to know more. For all it rankled her that his keen interest in the discovery of knowledge put his more intimate interest in her person on the back burner, it was also one of the things she loved about him.

Al froze with her fork hovering at her lips. No, she had not just thought that.

“Lass? Al?”

Blinking, she shifted her eyes to his, holding her utensil aloft. “Hmm?”

“Are ye well? Ye look a wee bit pale.”

His concern was obvious and another wave of affection swept over her but she forced it aside. “I’m fine. It’s just warm in here. So, no. Though there were some early models with steam engines, most were internal combustion engines…”

Prattling on through the rest of their meal, only half her attention was on him as she struggled with the possibility of her revelation versus the probability that it was merely a slip of the subconscious.

She loved that about him. It didn’t mean anything or imply anything grander than that. Her cat, Mr. Darcy, had a kittenish weakness for a laser pointer and she loved that about him. Albert Einstein wore fuzzy slippers and she loved that about him.

It was just a saying. Nothing more.

So all-encompassing was the inner debate, she might have been reciting her grandmother’s chocolate chip cookie recipe for all the notice she gave to the words pouring from her mouth.

Chapter 22

A taste of her lips and it was as if he’d opened Pandora’s Box. Releasing not the evils of the world, but opening a floodgate to the lust he’d been holding at bay these last days. Once opened, it was impossible to rein either back in.

For nearly an hour, he’d stared blankly at the latest newssheet imagining her in the room above with a large comfortable bed close at hand. The fresh, clean scent of her when she nuzzled so close to his ear… He’d been tempted to drag her onto his lap and have his wicked way with her. Thankfully, he’d managed to introduce a subject suitable for conversation while he forced his meal down his throat.

He’d have to find a way to reintroduce the topic one day as he hadn’t absorbed a word of what she said. And he did want to know.

It was a good thing he’d had his driver take down the top of the carriage while they were dining. For her comfort, he’d told her in response to her curious gaze when he’d handed her up.

Though she’d assured him he hadn’t needed to go to such troubles, Keir knew the opposite was true.

Chivalrous intentions might have stayed his hand for a couple hours but they weren’t dependable enough to keep him from touching her for the several more remaining in their journey. Propriety might provide him the strength of will he needed but only just.

Another turn in the privacy of a closed carriage would have provided more temptation than he could fight. He’d be damned if he’d treat any ears beyond his own to the sweet song of her impassioned cries.

And he meant to wring a bloody aria from her once he could get her alone.

*

“Rosebraugh, I presume?”

“Where else?”

“When you said a days’ ride, I thought you meant a whole day,” she said without taking her eyes off the majestic castle rising before them. “It’s lovely.”

The view the entire way from Cullicudden had been. Though Al had been initially dismayed to find the open carriage awaiting them, her displeasure was quickly set aside in favor of the stunning scenery she absorbed along the way.

As they rambled onward, she realized what she had told Artair was true, beyond Dingwall Castle and a brief upended contemplation of the moors outside Culloden, she hadn’t seen anything of the country since her arrival. She’d always wanted to visit Scotland. To see if it was as magical in person as it was described in books.

The bright green landscape dotted with wide fields of yellow dillseed and the occasional thatched cottage didn’t disappoint. Against the deep blue sky, the view stole her breath. Shortly after leaving Cullicudden, the land gave way to the shimmering waters of the Cromarty Firth on her left. It was narrow at first with