Lachlan shrugged. "Whatever you desire."

"I do not desire anything beyond saying I have a 'husband.'"

"I'm not arguing, my angel." He prided himself on his diplomacy skills.

She clenched her jaw. "I wish to leave immediately after the ceremony for my estate."

"As do I. I've had enough of London. 'Tis a foul stink-pot. And I'm missing Scotland."

She remained silent. How could he convince her to talk civilly? He wanted to know her better, wanted her to trust him a wee bit.

"When were you last in Scotland?" he asked.

"Eleven years ago."

"Do you miss it?"

"Non. I miss France. And my mother." She strode toward the shade of an arbor covered with climbing roses.

He followed. "Your mother?"

"She passed away last year."

"I'm sorry to hear it, truly."

Inside the arbor, she sat on a bench and he joined her.

"My mother died when I was a wee lad," Lachlan said. "I hardly remember her at all. And my father died five years past. 'Twas hard to get through. I still miss him sorely."

Angelique gave him an assessing look. He preferred it to her glares.

"I had not seen my father since my mother left him and took me to France," she said.

"When did he pass?"

"Two months ago."

He nodded. "Do you wish you had seen him one last time?"

She lifted a slim shoulder and stared at her entwined fingers. "I did not know him, really. He sent for me several times, but I did not want to return to Scotland."

"Why not?"

"He wished to find me a Scottish husband." She flicked a glare at him.

"Ah. So, you don't have any brothers or sisters?"

"Non. You?"

"I have one brother who is chief of the MacGrath clan in the Highlands. He's an earl as well. We're very close. You would like Alasdair. He is the most honorable of men."

She shot him a challenging look. "How can he be so different from you?"

"Och, Angelique." Lachlan harbored the small hope she was teasing him in her own waspish way. "You are too much like this lovely rose." He fingered the petals of a late season pink blossom, sniffed the lush scent. "Beautiful, fragile, but your thorns drive deep."

This time he caught a glimpse of vulnerability lurking in the depths of her green-gray eyes. She needed someone to protect her, someone to teach her how to laugh again. Someone she could whisper her hopes and dreams to. Aye, he wished to hear her whispers in his ear at night, and feel her hot breaths upon his skin.

"Do not try to seduce me," she muttered. "You will only be disappointed."

"I'm not trying to seduce you." Though this arbor would be a pleasant, secluded place for a tryst, the seduction would come later.

"Très bien. Save it for your paramours."

God's teeth. He had never known a woman such as her. Jealousy was eating her up. That had to mean something. Mayhap she wanted him all to herself. He grinned and glanced away.

"What is it?"

"Naught."

She stood. "I wish to return to my room."

"Before you go… I want to give you something." A fit of nerves seized him, a feeling such as he'd never before experienced with a woman.

"Oui. What?"

What the devil was wrong with him? Just give it to her. He knelt on one knee and extended his empty hand.

Her eyes widened and he thought she might bolt. After a moment, she placed her hand in his.

"I ken I didn't propose to you and likely 'twould seem silly to do so now." He pulled the golden ring from inside his doublet. "But I wish to give you this betrothal ring. I had it specially made for you with this emerald because it reminds me of your eyes." He slid it into place on her finger, and he was happy to see it fit perfectly.

She lifted her hand, examining the ring. "It is lovely," she whispered. Her gaze softened a wee bit. "Merci. I thank you, sir." She curtsied.

"You're welcome." Smiling, he rose and extended his elbow. "'Twill be my pleasure to escort you to your room now."

"I wish to go alone," Angelique said firmly to combat the sensual way Lachlan had said pleasure.

The ring was a sweet token, but he could not win her heart with one piece of jewelry. The gold near burned her finger, warmed as it was from his body heat. And the feeling behind the gift clutched at her heart—or rather, the feeling she wished was behind it.

"Of course." His full lips still held a hint of smugness.

He knew he would get her into bed as his wife. At least, he thought he would. No one said she had to go willingly to the lion. She would lie like a dead fish in his bed and he would soon leave her alone.

She smiled.

"Glad I am to see you smiling."

Not for long.

***

"Damn that MacGrath!" Sorley MacGrotie, Baron of Kormad, paced the small room at the Red Bull Inn.

"Damn the king," Arnie said in the same tone.

"Damn Angelique," Rufus said.

"Shut up, you fools! I won't let him steal the estate and title away from little Timmy." Kormad wanted to get this mess cleared up so he could return to his nephew in Scotland. His sister's son would inherit what was rightfully his, despite what Timmy's bastard of a father, John Drummagan, had wanted, and Kormad would make certain of it. Drummagan would pay, from beyond the grave, for shunning sweet Lilas.

Angelique was not the rightful heir, and MacGrath sure as the devil should not be earl.

"We tried to throw him in the river," Arnie whined. "He's big."

"And strong. A highly trained warrior," Rufus said. "He has three men with him now, two Highlanders."

"I don't give a damn where they hail from," Kormad said. "Highlanders, Lowlanders, Sassenachs, I will destroy any man who follows MacGrath. Tell Pike to come in here as the two of you leave."

The dolts hung their heads and shuffled out. He didn't know how he suffered their stupidity.

Pike was his most resourceful man, not to mention ruthless.

Minutes later, he entered, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight. "Aye, my lord."

"Desperate measures are called for with this MacGrath."

Pike gave an evil half smile; his gray eyes glinted like dirty ice. "What did you have in mind? Let me torture him."

"As much as that would please me…I just need Lachlan MacGrath dead. In an 'accident.' Angelique, too."

"Indeed?" Pike looked ravenous of a sudden. "The lady, too?"

"Aye, the bitch will never marry me. Don't bungle this. The king mustn't suspect foul play."

"Of course not, my lord. 'Tis my specialty."

"I will pay you well if you succeed."

"I ken not how to fail." Pike grinned.

"Accident, I tell you. 'Haps they could fall from a high window, a rooftop, a bridge."

Pike nodded with enthusiasm. "Can I have the woman first?"

"I don't care. Just leave no evidence of foul play, no marks upon her save the ones from her fall."

Pike's head bobbled up and down again before he left. The man belonged in Bedlam.

Chapter Three