Read Online Lost in Your Arms by Christina Dodd - Free Book Online Page B

Throckmorton said. “And you should stay.”
    MacLean rubbed his cheek against her hand. “There. We have a ruling from an authority. We are married.”
    Enid wanted to reply smartly, but she became a shadow in the chamber as the two men sized each other up. Their concentration, the sense of power each man exuded astounded Enid. Of course Mr. Throckmorton possessed that indefatigable air of command, but MacLean seemed to possess it, too, and when had that happened?
    “So there’s going to be a wedding here,” MacLean said. “Who’s getting married?”
    “I am.” Going to the hole in the floor, Mr. Throckmorton shut the door on the stairway and the room below. “Mrs. MacLean, I would like you to keep this locked at all times when you are alone with your husband.”
    “Why?” Enid and MacLean demanded together.
    “There will be a great many strangers here for my wedding, and I would rest more easily if I knew you to be undiscovered.”
    Mr. Throckmorton’s answer was no answer at all, but before Enid could question him further, MacLean said, “Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. I can’t imagine what sort of lass would be so foolish as to tie herself to a morose bastard like you.” MacLean looked startled at his own joking, friendly comment.
    “Wait until you see her,” Mr. Throckmorton said. “Celeste is beautiful. She’s charming. She’s too intelligent for her own good. You’ll really wonder what she’s thinking then.”
    “You’re rich?”
    Mr. Throckmorton nodded.
    “Is she of like circumstances?”
    “Poor as a church mouse. But she loves me for myself.” Not a hint of sarcasm colored his tone; Mr. Throckmorton was a happy man and didn’t care who knew it.
    MacLean’s mouth turned down. “You believe that?”
    Appalled, Enid chided, “MacLean, how rude!”
    MacLean picked her hand off his shoulder and kissed it. “I’m a rude lad, I think.”
    But Mr. Throckmorton didn’t seem to be offended by MacLean’s insolence. Placing his fists on the mattress, he leaned over MacLean. “Even if I didn’t, Iwouldn’t care. If I had to bribe her to marry me, I’d do it. I would do anything to have Celeste.”
    “Then you’re a fool,” MacLean said.
    Mr. Throckmorton grinned. “You lied—as a safeguard, no doubt. You do still have your memory.”
    Anticipation gripped Enid. Did MacLean remember?
    “No.” MacLean looked him right in the eyes. “I don’t.”
    Hope faded again, and Enid sighed.
    A silence fell on the chamber. Not a silence such as had wrapped them ’round for the last fortnight, but a thoughtful silence. A guarded silence.
    Enid watched the two men, wondering how Mr. Throckmorton would take the disappointment, seeing how MacLean waited, apparently relaxed, while waiting for the reaction.
    Straightening, Mr. Throckmorton said, “You’re a suspicious sort. You always have been. That’s one of your qualities that first attracted my attention.”
    “Am I? I don’t remember.”
    “You say you don’t remember, yet you always were pessimistic about marriage.”
    “I still am, although I can’t tell you why.” MacLean glanced up at Enid. “Especially when I’ve taken such a bonny lass to wife.”
    Mr. Throckmorton’s gaze flicked from one to the other.
    “Of course, she tells me we’ve been estranged.”
    “I . . . yes, you were.” Mr. Throckmorton paced away.
    “Perhaps that’s the reason for my cynicism.” MacLean closed his eyes for a moment as if the excitement had tired him.
    In a tone so noncommittal as to be dry, Mr. Throckmorton said, “I had to bring Mrs. MacLean here in the hopes you would revive for her sake.”
    “As I have. It was her sweet voice that guided me to consciousness.” MacLean’s thin face creased as he smiled at her with an edge so sharp it cut her like a razor. “But not to memory.”
    Mr. Throckmorton paced back to the foot of the bed and grasped the rails between his fingers. “I will tell you the truth, MacLean. I