The Heiress Bride - Catherine Coulter [5]
Sinjun came slowly into the library. It was very late, nearly midnight. Douglas waved her to the seat opposite his. It was odd, she thought, as she approached. She had always believed Douglas and Ryder were the two most handsome men in the entire world. But she’d been wrong. Neither of them came close to Colin Kinross.
“Sinjun, you are behaving quite strangely, not at all like yourself. Are you ill? Has Mother been tormenting you again?”
She shook her head and said, “Yes, but she always does, saying it’s for my own good.”
“I will speak to her again.”
“Douglas.”
She stopped, and he blinked to see that she was staring down at her toes and she was actually plucking at her muslin skirt.
“My God,” he said slowly, the light dawning finally, “you’ve met a man.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Sinjun, I know you haven’t overspent your allowance. You’re so tight with your purse strings that you’ll be richer than I am in a matter of years. Mother picks at you, but most of it bounces off. You pay her no mind, truth be told. Alex and I love you within the bounds of common sense, and we’ve tried to make you as comfortable as we can. Ryder and Sophie will be arriving in a week or so—”
“I do know his name, but I haven’t met him!”
“Ah,” said Douglas. He sat back, grinning up at her, steepling his fingers. “And his name is?”
“Colin Kinross, and he’s the earl of Ashburnham. He’s a Scot.”
Douglas frowned. For a moment he’d hoped it just might be Thomas Mannerly she liked. No such luck.
“Do you know him? Is he married? Betrothed? Is he a gamester? Has he killed men in duels? Is he a womanizer?”
“You would have to be different, wouldn’t you, Sinjun? A Scot! No, I don’t know him. If you haven’t even met the man, then why are you so damned interested?”
“I don’t know.” She paused, and looked extraordinarily vulnerable. She shrugged, trying for a glimmer of her old self, and gave him a crooked smile. “It’s just there.”
“All right,” Douglas said, eyeing her closely. “I’ll find out all about this Colin Kinross.”
“You won’t say anything to anyone, will you?”
“I will to Alex but no one else.”
“You don’t mind that he’s a Scot, do you?”
“No, why should I?”
“Thomas Mannerly had a touch of scorn in his voice, called him a barbarian, that kind of thing.”
“Thomas had a father who believed to the soles of his viscount’s feet that a true gentleman must be born breathing the fine, just air of England. It appears that Thomas has adopted his departed sire’s absurdities.”
“Thank you, Douglas.” Sinjun leaned down and kissed his cheek.
As he watched her leave the library, a thoughtful frown settled on his forehead. He tapped his fingers slowly together. The only thing he had against a Scot was that if she married one, she would live very far away from her family.
He followed his sister upstairs not long thereafter. He walked into the bedchamber to see Alex brushing her hair, seated at her dressing table. He met her eyes in the mirror, smiled, and began to take off his clothes.
Her brush stilled. She put it down and turned to face him.
“You will watch me all the way to my bare hide?”
She just smiled and nodded.
“You are staring, Alex. Are you concerned that I have gained flesh? You wish to see that everything is still lean and all my parts are in good working order?”
She just smiled more widely, and this time she just shook her head and said, “Oh no. I suspect you are quite perfect. You were last night and this morning and—” She giggled.
When he was quite naked, he walked over to her, picked her up in his arms, and carried her to their bed.
When he