“You weigh less than a bird. It was nothing.”
“It was distressingly romantic, is what it was. Would you try to be a bit less dashing? This is meant to be a convenient arrangement.”
“As you like, mo chridhe.”
She was right. Romance was not in their bargain. Now that he had her upstairs, in a bedchamber, he was eager to get on with the parts they did agree to.
The two of them, in a bed.
He nodded to her as he left the room. “I’ll give you a half hour to make ready. And then I’ll return.”
Chapter Five
I’ll give you a half hour to make ready.
A half hour?
Maddie tried not to panic. What was a half hour to prepare for becoming a wife? A mere blink, surely. Thirty minutes were nowhere near enough time to make herself ready.
Thirty years might not be enough time to feel ready. There was simply too much to absorb.
She was married. She was about to lose her virginity. And worst of all, she was feeling stupidly infatuated with her new husband.
At this very moment, her heart was throbbing with a sweet, tender ache.
So absurd.
For heaven’s sake, she’d only known him half a day, and he’d been terrible for most of it. Her brain argued back and forth with her foolish, sentimental heart.
He blackmailed you into marriage.
And then kissed me by the loch.
His behavior to you was detestable.
But his loyalty to his men is admirable.
He threatened to carry you like a sack of oats.
And swept me off my feet instead.
Maddie, you are impossible.
She sighed and muttered, “No argument there.”
She decided against calling in the maid to help her prepare.
As she removed her plaid sash and gown, she sternly reminded herself that this Captain Logan MacKenzie was not the hero she’d spent her girlhood dreaming of. When he returned to this room in—-she checked the clock—-nineteen minutes’ time, it would not be with the intent of sparking romance; he would come to complete a transaction.
But, but, but . . .
Lightning flashed outside. She froze in the act of unrolling her stockings, suddenly awash with the memory. His arm, wrapping tight around her when the thunder crashed. He’d looked so handsome by candlelight. Not to mention, rather thrilling when he’d whisked her up the stairs.
Oh, she was in so much trouble.
As she pulled a brush through her unbound hair, shivers of anticipation coursed through her. They played a naughty game of tag as they chased from one secret part of her body to the next. Her skin felt warm and tingly. Willing.
Ready.
She closed her eyes and drew a deep, slow breath. She should not be looking forward to this. She should not be imagining this encounter to mean things that it didn’t. That kind of foolishness could only lead to getting hurt.
Love is just a lie we tell ourselves.
And Maddie was all too practiced at lying.
She took another glimpse at the clock. Eight minutes left.
As she replaced the hairbrush on her dressing table, her gaze landed on the small heart--shaped brooch he’d given her at the close of the ceremony. What was the name Callum had told her?
A luckenbooth.
She lifted it for closer examination. The design was simple, even humble. The outline of a heart shape had been worked in gold, with a few chips of semiprecious stones—-green and blue—-inset near the crest.
Maddie turned the brooch over in her hands to examine the clasp. As she did, her fingertips caught a rougher patch on the otherwise smooth gold.
Interesting. It was engraved.
She leaned closer to the candlelight, peering hard at the tiny markings. It looked to be a pair of initials.
“L.M.”
For Logan MacKenzie, of course.
Goodness, he’d arrived prepared. He seemed to have thought everything through. Then she squinted to make out the second set, expecting to find an “M.G.” for Madeline Gracechurch.
There was no “M.G.” engraved there.
There was, however, another set of letters.
“ ’A.D.,’ ” she read aloud.
Unbelievable.
Apparently Captain Logan “Love’s just a lie we tell ourselves” MacKenzie was a liar, too. He must have had some history of romance. One that hadn’t ended well, evidently—-considering he’d given Maddie the brooch he’d bought for this former lover.
The rogue.
Maddie dropped the brooch on the dressing table. At least her tingling, yearning feelings had dissipated. This was exactly the sharp object she’d needed to separate her heart from the rest of her body. Now she had a foolproof way to remember that this was not a real marriage and she should not imagine him to possess any true feelings. She’d be wearing that luckenbooth every day—-a little heart--shaped talisman to remind her that all of this was false.
The door creaked on its hinges.
Oh, Lord. It was time.
Maddie scrambled into the bed and dove beneath the coverlet. Not quite fast enough, unfortunately. He’d seen the entire maneuver, she was sure.