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Authors: Johanna Lindsey
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behavior last night does you no credit, MacGregor. I have had very little sleep in the last three days, two of those days due to your own lack of consideration for others.”
“Och now, so that’s your excuse, is it?”
“I am not apologizing to you,” she hissed, “I am merely pointing out that your behavior was even worse than you supposed it to be.”
“Had you asked nicely for some peace, darlin’, you might have got some, but that wasna the case, now was it?” he drawled rather smugly.
She gasped. He actually dared to place the blame for his behavior on her shoulders. But that was no better than one could expect of a…Kimberly nipped that thought in the bud as she realized what she was doing, letting her father’s prejudice affect her own thinking. She knew better. And besides, she needed no prejudice whatsoever to dislike this particular Scot. He managedto instill that emotion in her all on his own.
His comment didn’t deserve a reply. To continue in this vein was letting him bring her down to his level of rudeness. Yet she still couldn’t resist saying, “Is it necessary to remind you that had the disturbance you were making last night been of a tolerable level, it wouldn’t have been necessary to speak to you a’tall. And you may address me as Lady Kimberly. I am not your ‘darlin’.’”
“And ’tis glad I am of that,” he retorted.
She had an urge to stand up and slap him soundly. But she recalled where she was and with whom, and made an effort to keep the heat out of her cheeks instead.
“So we are agreed, MacGregor,” she gritted out, then added in a mild mimic of his lyrical brogue, “And ’tis glad I am that I will not have to suffer your company again after this meal is over.”
That got her a chuckle and a cheeky grin. “You’re leaving Sherring Cross then, are you?”
“No, you are.”
He shook his head. “I hate tae disappoint you, lass, surely I do, but I’m no’ leaving.”
She frowned at him. “You’re lying. I distinctly heard His Grace—”
“His Grace has had himself a change of heart,” he cut in and was frowning himself now. “And ’afore I take offense at being called a liar, I’ll be having an apology from you.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll allow that changed circumstances do not make you a liar in regards to this, but considering your profession, MacGregor, I have little doubt that lying comes as naturally to you as stealing. And since you will, unfortunately, be staying on here, I will be sure to put my belongings under lock and key.”
She could not have insulted him worse if she’d tried to. But in fact, she hadn’t been trying to. She was simply so flustered and chagrined to be having this conversation with him at all that she was answering him without giving her responses full consideration.
But he was insulted, gravely. It was one thing to be called a liar when he was lying, but something else again to be called a liar when he wasn’t.
“The only thing I’d be stealing from you, lass, is that vicious tongue of yours. You’d be wise tae put that under lock and key as well.”
She gasped for the second time, then in a tone as stiff as dried leather, said, “This habit you have of threatening women speaks for itself. You might have gotten away with intimidating me last night, but you may be sure that you won’t manage it quite so easily again. So might I suggest that you refrain from speaking to me at all, and I will in turn be glad to spare you my ‘vicious tongue.’”
“’Tis what I deserve for trying tae apologize tae a shrew,” he mumbled to himself.
She heard him, of course. He meant for her to hear him. But the silence—finally—that his remark produced had him feeling somewhat ashamed. Trading insults with a lady was unique for him. Not that he minded so much, not with this lady in any case. But it was his habit to charm and tease, not to provoke hostility, and he wasn’t even sure why he was doing it.
This
“Och now, so that’s your excuse, is it?”
“I am not apologizing to you,” she hissed, “I am merely pointing out that your behavior was even worse than you supposed it to be.”
“Had you asked nicely for some peace, darlin’, you might have got some, but that wasna the case, now was it?” he drawled rather smugly.
She gasped. He actually dared to place the blame for his behavior on her shoulders. But that was no better than one could expect of a…Kimberly nipped that thought in the bud as she realized what she was doing, letting her father’s prejudice affect her own thinking. She knew better. And besides, she needed no prejudice whatsoever to dislike this particular Scot. He managedto instill that emotion in her all on his own.
His comment didn’t deserve a reply. To continue in this vein was letting him bring her down to his level of rudeness. Yet she still couldn’t resist saying, “Is it necessary to remind you that had the disturbance you were making last night been of a tolerable level, it wouldn’t have been necessary to speak to you a’tall. And you may address me as Lady Kimberly. I am not your ‘darlin’.’”
“And ’tis glad I am of that,” he retorted.
She had an urge to stand up and slap him soundly. But she recalled where she was and with whom, and made an effort to keep the heat out of her cheeks instead.
“So we are agreed, MacGregor,” she gritted out, then added in a mild mimic of his lyrical brogue, “And ’tis glad I am that I will not have to suffer your company again after this meal is over.”
That got her a chuckle and a cheeky grin. “You’re leaving Sherring Cross then, are you?”
“No, you are.”
He shook his head. “I hate tae disappoint you, lass, surely I do, but I’m no’ leaving.”
She frowned at him. “You’re lying. I distinctly heard His Grace—”
“His Grace has had himself a change of heart,” he cut in and was frowning himself now. “And ’afore I take offense at being called a liar, I’ll be having an apology from you.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll allow that changed circumstances do not make you a liar in regards to this, but considering your profession, MacGregor, I have little doubt that lying comes as naturally to you as stealing. And since you will, unfortunately, be staying on here, I will be sure to put my belongings under lock and key.”
She could not have insulted him worse if she’d tried to. But in fact, she hadn’t been trying to. She was simply so flustered and chagrined to be having this conversation with him at all that she was answering him without giving her responses full consideration.
But he was insulted, gravely. It was one thing to be called a liar when he was lying, but something else again to be called a liar when he wasn’t.
“The only thing I’d be stealing from you, lass, is that vicious tongue of yours. You’d be wise tae put that under lock and key as well.”
She gasped for the second time, then in a tone as stiff as dried leather, said, “This habit you have of threatening women speaks for itself. You might have gotten away with intimidating me last night, but you may be sure that you won’t manage it quite so easily again. So might I suggest that you refrain from speaking to me at all, and I will in turn be glad to spare you my ‘vicious tongue.’”
“’Tis what I deserve for trying tae apologize tae a shrew,” he mumbled to himself.
She heard him, of course. He meant for her to hear him. But the silence—finally—that his remark produced had him feeling somewhat ashamed. Trading insults with a lady was unique for him. Not that he minded so much, not with this lady in any case. But it was his habit to charm and tease, not to provoke hostility, and he wasn’t even sure why he was doing it.
This
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