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“What was it about this man and his presence? When Thomas touched her, the dance took on a new quality it had not had with William. While she had been nervous at the closeness between their bodies when his brother led the waltz, Thomas provoked other sensations entirely. William exuded a sense of safety. His presence was unfamiliar, but stolid. Even comforting. But Thomas… Everything about Thomas screamed danger to Claire. Yet she was mesmerized.”

“They were close enough that she could finally see him clearly. Her eyes took in the sight of the Scot, standing tall in full Highland dress. “Oh, delightful,” she muttered to herself. She was at her worst, with seaweed hair streaming water, while Wren had apparently decided to put on his Sunday best. And didn’t he look absolutely magnificent! If her heart had not already been doing troublesome things before, it was pounding in brazen excitement as she looked at him now. This was her husband. Dear Lord. This was her husband. He was always a very striking man. The cleft of his chin. His sturdy Roman nose. The softness of his dark, sooty lashes over those gorgeous blue eyes. His height, his breadth, his width. His girth? Briar almost giggled. Shush, she told herself. But now? Gracious, he was unbearably handsome. There was something about a man in a kilt. Especially the way Wren was wearing it. The dark green Renfrew plaid, shot through with its strands of red and white and gold, was already a lovely thing. Against Wren's form, contrasted against his dark hair, it was a god's finery. Every pleat, every fold fitting his leanly muscled physique. She swallowed hard, then took another step.”

“I was so lonely,” he heard her say, and he felt her body shaking. “There seemed no point in saying yes, no point in saying no. So, I simply did as he wanted.” “Your father?” Henry said, with understanding, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her hair gently. He held her close, in the dark of the foyer, letting his hands and his arms speak for him. She was safe, they said. She was loved, they said. He would never let her feel that way again. He felt her nodding. She lifted her head. “You did not let me finish before,” she said, her eyes widening with some unspoken news. “In the alcove. You distracted me.” She hit him playfully on the chest as he grinned at the memory of how he had indeed distracted them both. “But I had been trying to tell you…” She began. “Wait,” Henry said, with a frown. “Did you hear that?” “What?” She said, looking ever so slightly annoyed. “Let me finish this time, please, Henry.” “A baby,” he said, looking around the foyer wildly. “I thought I heard a baby.” He looked back and was shocked to see her looking unconcerned.”