“He said I was to live in London, and they would live in Scotland.”
They twirled in silence for a turn. “I reckon he meant to make ye angry. If he can claim this is yer fault, then he still hasnae broken the agreement between my parents.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He was raised without a mama. To claim up front that he’d take any bairn from its mother’s arms … He’d nae do that.” Niall frowned. “I cannae imagine him doing that.” He muttered something else that sounded like a curse.
“Have you asked him?”
“Nae. I reckon I will, now.”
“I did try to keep an open mind, Niall,” she told him. “And you … Your friendship and consideration lifted my estimation of your brother. You’re the better man, though. Don’t let him tell you otherwise.”
“Nae. I’m different, is all. In some ways. I’m as much a MacTaggert as he is, and I shear as many sheep as any of us.”
“You actually do shear sheep?” she asked, snatching at a chance to change the subject. She needed to keep speaking, though; dancing in his arms felt … not quite safe, but protected. It was heady after her previous fear that she’d sink right through the floor, and she needed all her wits about her right now.
“I do. We’re nae at Aldriss just to be pretty. There’s always plenty of work to be done, and I’ve a strong back. I reckon I can do my part to help.”
She nodded, lowering her gaze to his simply tied cravat. Unlike most of her male friends he hadn’t arranged the stiff white cloth into a waterfall or a clever bow or a billowing cascade. Just a single pin in the shape of a thistle provided decoration. Likewise his black coat and dark-blue waistcoat were without ornament, the plainness of them broken only by their rows of silver buttons. No gold-threaded stitching, no stiff, high collar or faux medals or paisley patterns or embroidered monograms.
“If you’re so busy working, how do you know the waltz?” she asked.
“Is this what ye want to chat about?”
“Very much so,” she said feelingly.
Niall drew her a breath closer as the swirled about the room. “A long-legged fellow, a dance master, he said he was, came to the village offering to teach all the lasses for two shillings apiece. Anyway, we convinced this stork to teach us, as well.”
She could imagine it, three dark-haired lions and a stork teaching them to dance the waltz. The poor man must have been terrified, but for heaven’s sake, in her opinion it had been well worth the fright. He danced without effort, every ounce of his attention seemingly on her. With Coll it had been a battle; with Niall, she soared.
“Will you lose Aldriss now?” she asked slowly, swallowing away her nerves. If this waltz could last forever, that would be magnificent.
He cocked his head. “That, I couldnae say. Ye’re the lass Lady Aldriss chose for him, but he made it look as if ye turned him away … Francesca keeps telling me she wants us back in her life. Forcing Coll into a marriage neither of ye want doesnae seem the way to do that. She may agree to choose a different lass for him.”
“And then you’ll go and charm that lass on your brother’s behalf, I imagine?”
“Nae. I dunnae think I have it in me to charm another lass.” Niall glanced down at their joined hands for a moment, then lifted his gaze again. “In the theater box that night, Coll meant to send ye into tears. Instead ye sent him running like a scalded cat.”
“I didn’t intend to do that, though. A lady doesn’t show discomfiture or annoyance. It’s not proper.”
“For a London lass it’s nae proper. The lasses in the Highlands can hold their own. When I sat next to ye, ye looked me straight in the eye and dared me to make an excuse for Coll.” His mouth curved in a slow smile. “Ye caught my attention.”
The corners of her mouth lifted in response. “You saw all that just from me looking at you? I’m somewhat skeptical, Niall. Yes, I was annoyed, but more that your brother had just revealed himself to be exactly the caricature of a Highlander I had imagined.”
“I can safely say ye’re nae at all what I had in my mind when I rode down to London. I told ye I reckoned I’d find ye’d all be pale, simpering, dour husks that didnae have a drop of warm blood in ye.”
That was what she’d been trying to be, really. When he described a proper young lady, she sounded horrid. Was it so awful, then, that she wasn’t quite one of them? Being a husk would certainly be easier, but it left no room for warm-blooded things like laughter and happiness and love. “What did you find?” she asked aloud, though she wasn’t certain she wanted to know the answer.
The music stopped before he could answer. It felt … odd, as if she’d accidentally stepped onto a cloud, only to realize that a cloud couldn’t possibly hold her. The audience applauded, and she belatedly let go of Niall’s shoulder and his hand to join them. As she turned away, though, he caught her left hand and tucked it around his forearm. “What did I find?” he repeated, and before she was even aware of it, they were outside on the balcony overlooking the garden.
“What are—”
“I found ye,” he interrupted, and leaned in to catch her mouth with his.
A delighted thrill sent shivers up her arms, her previous tragedy forgotten—or at least set well aside. Niall MacTaggert. He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. Amelia-Rose drank in the heat and taste of him, putting her hands over his broad shoulders and lifting up on her toes. In return he deepened his kiss, his breath warm along her cheek and his mouth teasing at hers in a way that left her both satisfied and yearning all in the same swirl of warmth.
Far too soon he broke the kiss, lifting his face an inch or so from hers. “Ye needed a breath of air, adae,” he whispered, “because of yer shock over Coll leaving ye cold on the dance floor.”
“Wh—”
“Amelia-Rose.” Her mother’s sharp voice came as Niall ducked out from under her arms and took a long step sideways. “Where are y—Whyever are you out here, unchaperoned?”
She turned around as her mother’s footsteps tapped up behind her. “I needed a breath of air,” she said, her mind feeling misty and dreamy. Wake up, she ordered herself. Now was not the time to lose her wits. She’d just been kissed, not rescued.
“I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Baxter retorted, sending at glare at Niall—who now stood a perfectly respectable distance away from her. “You. Where is your brother?”
“I’m nae his keeper, Mrs. Baxter.”
“Well, someone needs to be. This is unforgivable. I can’t even imagine the gossip now. I’ll be the laughingstock of London. What did you say to him, Amelia-Rose? For heaven’s sake.”
“He told me what he wanted in a wife. Someone to remain here in London, living with you, and to wait for him to send for me so he could get me with child, take the babe, and then send me back to London again. Like a … a brood mare or something! I told him that was unacceptable.”
Victoria snapped her mouth shut. “He would have married you, then?”
Of course that was what would matter to her. “Yes, he would have married me. I will not marry him.”
“You have ruined everything. Again.” Mrs. Baxter put a hand to her temple. “We may not have announced it officially, but everyone knew he was to marry you. Everyone.” She turned to glare at Niall. “You barbarians!”
“Mother, Niall saved me,” Amelia-Rose protested, though “helpful” wasn’t the first word that came to mind when she looked at him. “Improper,” definitely. And “scorchingly desirable.”
“That is more than enough from you, Amelia-Rose. Where is your mother, Mr. MacTaggert? I will not carry on with this farce for another minute. He insulted my daughter in the middle of the Spenfield ball. In front of everyone. That cannot—will not—be tolerated. Do you hear me?”
“I’m nae deaf,” he returned coolly, leaning a hip against the iron railing of the balcony. “And I’m nae about to scamper off and fetch my mama to deal with ye.”