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When a Scot Ties the Knot

Page 60

He pushed both hands through his hair, frustrated in more ways than one.

“You’re fine now,” she crooned, sweeping her fingers down his spine. “We can go back to sleep.”

He shrugged off her touch. “It’s nearly morning. We might as well rise and be dressed if we’re going to be in Inverness when the shops open for the day.”

“Very well, then.”

Logan tried to ignore the crestfallen look on her face. He knew he was hurting her by brushing away her sweet gestures. But he would hurt her more deeply later if he allowed them.

Dreams had no place in his plans. This had been a ruthless scheme from the outset, and it needed to remain that way. If he meant to secure this land for his men, he had to conquer Madeline, one way or another. Either she would surrender this property, or she would surrender her virtue. Emotions could only complicate matters.

He could not encourage her to care for him.

If only because it would grow too tempting to care for her in return.

Chapter Seventeen

Aunt Thea leaned close to him. “I’m going to guess you don’t have a great deal of experience shopping for ladies’ formal attire?”

Logan scratched his neck. “What gave it away?”

They sat on two narrow chairs in the midst of an Inverness dressmaker’s shop, waiting on Maddie to make her choice of a gown. The sheer quantity of lace and plumes in the establishment had him feeling itchy.

“Not much experience attending balls, either?” she asked.

“None.”

“You must be so anxious. I couldn’t eat for weeks before my first presentation.”

If he hadn’t been anxious already, he was growing anxious now.

Thank you, Aunt Thea. Much obliged.

“While we’re waiting, I’ll give you a bit of advice.” She pushed to her feet and prodded him in the elbow. “Come along. Stand up. A man should never be sitting while a lady stands.”

Logan reluctantly stood. He didn’t especially want etiquette lessons at the moment, but he didn’t know what else to do with himself in this place, either. At least she offered a way to pass the time. It was better than fidgeting. If he tapped the heel of his boot any more times, he would wear a hole in the carpet.

“Now,” she began, “when you first make a new acquaintance, the person of lower social rank is presented to the higher.”

“No need to memorize any of the social ranks,” he said. “I’m going to be on the same end of that exchange every time.”

He couldn’t imagine there would be anyone of lower rank present at an earl’s residence. Even within a humble Highland baile, Logan had always been the lowest of the lowly, one step above the animals. Sometimes he’d been fed after the dogs.

“Regardless, you will then bow. No need to bow deeply from the waist. That’s for toadying footmen. But something more than a nod is in order with the aristocracy. Think of a hinge in between your shoulder blades and lean forward from there. That should do.”

Logan obeyed as best he could, feeling rather like a marionette.

“Now kiss my hand.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers.

“That part isn’t strictly necessary.” Her eyes twinkled. “It was mostly for me.”

He couldn’t help but smile a little. He didn’t know where Madeline had inherited her shy nature, but it certainly hadn’t been from her aunt’s side.

“Now for the dancing,” she said.

“We won’t be dancing.”

“Most of the steps aren’t difficult. Wait for a country dance and watch the gentleman next to you. Or, if you’re feeling adventurous, you could try the waltz.”

Logan shook his head. “Maddie told me she won’t want to dance at all.”

“Perhaps she won’t. But I do. It’s been ages since I danced the gavotte with the Comte de Montclair. Humor me?”

He cast a wistful look at the heavy drapes that guarded the dressing room, willing them to open and give him an excuse to refuse.

No luck.

So he allowed Aunt Thea to position his arms just so and teach him to step this way, then that. One-­two-­three, one-­two-­three. He wouldn’t remember any of it later, but if it made an old woman happy, he supposed he couldn’t object.

“Not bad,” she said. “Not bad at all.”

Logan bowed and kissed her fingers again.

She kept his hand and squeezed it. “I never had children, you see. That’s why my Madling is so precious to me. I’ve thought of her as my own. Mothered her the best I could. You do realize what that means, Logan?”

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