Graeme stuck up an arm to flag down an approaching hackney.
“But—” She had to bite back her question when the carriage pulled over.
“Heriot Row,” Graeme said to the coachman.
When Sabrina started to climb into the hackney, her foot slipped. Glancing down at her half boots, she sighed. They were smeared with a gruesome-looking muck. “Oh, blast. These are brand new.”
“Let that be a lesson to you. No more sneaking off to Old Town.”
“And, as I said—” She gasped when Graeme wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her straight up into the hackney and onto the seat.
“That was hardly necessary,” she snapped when he climbed in beside her.
“Apparently it was. Anyway, I’ll buy you a pair of new boots.”
“I do not need you to buy me boots.”
Graeme bent forward to inspect his own footwear. “Actually, I think you should buy me new boots. What in God’s name was in that alley? It’s disgusting.”
“Stop trying to change the topic.”
He had the nerve to give her an exceedingly warm smile that threatened to knock every sensible thought from her brain. “I thought we were finished with that topic, except for the part where you keep haring off on these deranged missions.”
“There was nothing deranged about it. And the children should have returned to Heriot Row with us. Instead, you sent them haring off without any protection whatsoever.”
“Lass, it’s only for a few days. Besides, Tilly is better at surviving in the stews than you could ever imagine.”
“I don’t want to imagine it. And while Tilly may be very resourceful, Charlie is only a little boy.”
Graeme began to look a wee bit irritated. “I truly don’t mean to insult you, Sabrina, but you’re like a little lamb wandering off into the woods compared to Tilly or Charlie. That boy survived an orphanage, remember.”
She gave him the haughtiest look she could summon. “That comparison is exceedingly insulting. I am a grown woman, and I have proven more than once that I am quite resourceful in a pinch.”
Graeme’s demeanor transformed to decisively annoyed. “Some of that resourcefulness stems from the fact that you’re rich, Sabrina. And that’s grand, as far as it goes. But you can’t just pay people to do what you want or manage them into compliance. Frankly, it’s arrogant to think that you can. Tilly knows her own mind, and she knows what she wants. If she’d wanted to come to Heriot Row, I would have made that happen. But she didn’t. I respect that decision, as should you.”
For a generally taciturn man, he could certainly deliver an effective lecture. If Sabrina were a better person, she would admit that he’d landed more than a few home points.
Apparently, though, she was not a better person, at least when it came to Graeme Kendrick.
“You think I’m arrogant? Well, that’s rich, coming from you. You’re the most arrogant, interfering man I’ve ever met.”
He twisted sideways, looming over her. Green thunderbolts all but shot from his gaze. Truly, his eyes were the most extraordinary she’d ever seen. They held a startling emerald clarity that yet hinted at untold, turbulent depths. For an alarming moment, she fought the temptation to yank his head down and kiss him to see if he tasted of those same turbulent but dangerously enticing depths.
“It’s a damn good thing I’m interfering,” he growled, “since you have a talent for getting yourself into insanely tight spots.”
Like this one. They were wedged together on the seat, and it was impossible not to feel the length of his muscled thigh pressed up against her. The fact that Sabrina had no desire to escape this particular tight spot was a shocking but not unexpected revelation.
“May I remind you that I was also respecting Tilly’s wishes? She made a point of asking me to come alone.”
“And wasn’t that a good decision?” he sarcastically replied.
She pointed a gloved finger at his nose. It was a very nice nose, long and aquiline and as arrogant as the rest of him. She was tempted to kiss it, too.
Idiot.
“I was in complete control of the situation this morning.”
“And would you have been in control when Old Bill stormed in?”
“Of course not,” she replied, trying to be fair. “But we would have been gone by then. Your arrival was the cause of our delay.”
His retort was delayed by a sharp turn that threw her halfway across his lap. When Graeme muttered a curse, she felt her cheeks flame with heat—and not from his salty oath. No, it was the state of his lap that startled her. What she felt there was shockingly prominent. It seemed a bizarre reaction to an argument, although Sabrina had to confess to ignorance in such matters.
Letting out an aggrieved sigh, he set her away from him. In the confines of the carriage, it was barely an inch between them.
“Sorry,” he said.
She thought it best to misunderstand him. “Apology accepted. As I said, without your interruption, Tilly and I would have been gone before Bill arrived.”
“Did it never occur to you that Old Bill might have followed you? He’d have surely guessed Tilly’s intentions. Then what?”
Sabrina opened her mouth to reply but realized that he was correct—again.
“I do wish we knew his last name,” she said. “It’s ridiculous to keep referring to the man as Old Bill.”
“Lass, can you never ask for help?” Graeme said, exasperated.
She hesitated. “Not very easily, I admit. I’ve been running my father’s household since I was fifteen. I’m used to making decisions on my own.”
“You might try it now and again. Just for the novelty, if nothing else.”
So much for her olive branch. “Really, Mr. Kendrick. I find you quite rude.”
“And ye’ll find somethin’ else if ye keep tryin’ my patience.”
“What, pray tell, is that?” she snapped back.
He clamped one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her shoulder and pulled her in. They were so close that her eyes crossed as she tried to focus on his irate but excessively handsome features.
“This,” he growled.
His mouth took her with a gentle ferocity that soon stunned her into limpid compliance. It was a sensual plundering, and one she had no desire to resist. His lips moved with searing demand, taking exactly what he wanted—which was exactly what she wanted to give. Sabrina melted into his embrace, opening to his kiss with an eagerness that was quite shocking on her part.
She’d been kissed a few times, stolen pecks behind a potted plant or after a waltz, from suitors more nervous than she. But those experiences barely registered, not when compared to the sensual storm that was Graeme Kendrick.
With a happy sigh, Sabrina snuggled against his brawny chest, letting the storm wash over her. His kisses were hungry, ravishing yet tender, so tender she felt a momentary prickle of tears. But then he deepened the kiss, sucking on her lower lip before giving it a nip that sent a shiver coursing through her body.
Hesitantly, Sabrina moved her lips over his, tasting him back. She was inexperienced, but he was wicked temptation itself, thrilling her to the marrow of her bones. Graeme was turning her life upside down, obliterating her comfortable, safe existence.
Thank God.
They were like chalk and cheese in so many ways, and yet somehow they seemed right.
Growing bold, she teased him with the tip of her tongue. He groaned, the sound a low rumble as he pulled her halfway onto his lap. She dug her fingers into his neckcloth, eagerly opening to his exploration, oblivious to everything but the feel of his mouth and the brawny body wrapped around hers.
He murmured his approval, the sound vibrating through her like a bass note of pleasure. Suddenly, his mouth gentled, and the kiss grew even more sensual—slow, wet, and luscious, a promise of things to come. One kiss flowed into another, a stream of caresses that clouded her mind and turned every muscle and nerve languid with desire
.
When Graeme sucked her tongue into his mouth, Sabrina found herself clinging to him like a bird clings to a branch in a winter gale. But she wanted more, much more. Moving her hands to the back of his neck, she slid her fingers through his silky, soft locks—the only soft part on that massively hard body. When she snuggled closer, he groaned into her mouth. It was a delicious sound, one that made her squirm with a need to plaster her entire body to his.
Throwing caution to the proverbial winds, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed tight, chest-to-chest. Graeme suddenly froze, as if an arctic wind had swept through his veins and turned him to a block of ice. Every part of him went stone-still.
Then he unlocked their lips and slowly retreated, or at least tried to. After all, she was attached to him like a limpet. He reached up and unhooked her arms and pulled them away. Without a word, he carefully placed her hands back on her lap. Then he turned forward, putting as much distance between them as he could. In such tight quarters, that meant they were still thigh-to-thigh, and she could feel the tension gripping his muscles.
Mystified, Sabrina stared at his grim profile. His jawline was taut as piano wire, and his high cheekbones were glazed the color of brick. He also seemed to be trying to catch his breath.
She understood, because she felt like he’d sucked all the air out of her lungs. Like her, he seemed stunned, but not in a good way.
Drat. Men were so dreadfully complicated.
“Goodness, that was rather surprising,” she said, trying to rally.
Sabrina winced at her dementedly bright tone. But she couldn’t get a read on the blasted man. Was he angry with her? True, they’d been arguing just before he had kissed her. But he had kissed her.
“Not that surprising, but certainly inappropriate,” he gritted out, refusing to look at her. “My apologies.”
Had he truly not noticed how eagerly she’d responded to him? “Thank you, but no apology is necessary.”
When he shot her a startled look, Sabrina gave him a tentative smile. “I didn’t mind.”
“You should mind. I took advantage of you.”
“I don’t believe you did, in fact.”
He muttered under his breath as he opened the door of the hackney.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“We’ve arrived at Heriot Row, in case you failed to notice.”
She had failed to notice because he’d been kissing her with what she’d assumed was unbridled enthusiasm. His current behavior, however, showed no such enthusiasm.
“Mr. Kendrick, you’re much too—”
He all but catapulted down to the pavement.
“Blast,” she muttered.
Graeme helped her down. That’s when she noticed his neckcloth had fallen victim to her enthusiasm. His shirt had been pulled rather askew, as well.
“Oh, dear,” she weakly said.
He glanced down at her. “What’s wrong? Besides the obvious,” he added.
Rather unnecessarily, she thought.
She waved a vague finger at his chest. “You look rather, um . . .”
He glanced down and let out a sigh, then made an unsuccessful attempt at rearranging his clothing. Sabrina crinkled her nose, then paid off the coachman while Graeme silently fumed.
“Come along, you,” he said as he hustled her up the steps to the house.
“Your manner is rather disobliging, sir. I did nothing wrong.”
“I’m aware of that, my lady. The fault for this unfortunate incident is entirely mine.”
She gave him an encouraging smile. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
Graeme extracted a key from an inside pocket. “I would.”
Sabrina didn’t bother to hold back an aggrieved sigh. Really, men could be such blockheads.
When he opened the door, he breathed out another curse.
“Now what’s wrong?” she asked.
“Guess.”
She didn’t need to guess, because both Ainsley and Angus were standing in the entrance hall, clearly waiting for them. And wasn’t that just jolly splendid?
Ainsley rushed over to greet them. “Finally! We were expecting you ages ago. I was afraid something had happened.”
Angus inspected his grandson’s rather disheveled state. “Looks like something did happen,” he dryly commented.
Sabrina forced a smile. “It’s been quite the lively morning. Mr. Kendrick had to deal with some very bad characters.”
“Who apparently didn’t like his neckcloth,” Ainsley said. “Or your hat, dearest.”
When Sabrina reached up, she found her straw hat tipped halfway off her head. “How did that happen?” She hastily straightened it.
“I can hazard a guess,” Angus said.
“Just don’t, Grandda,” Graeme snapped. “I’m going upstairs to change and try to forget this morning ever happened.”
“We did save two children, you know,” Sabrina called after him as he stalked off. “That’s worth remembering.”
She’d found their kiss memorable, too. Sadly, he did not seem to agree.
Graeme cast her an irate glance over his shoulder, then bounded up the stairs and disappeared.
“I’d best go see why the lad is so fashed,” Angus said.
Ainsley threw a meaningful glance in Sabrina’s direction. “As if we don’t already know.”
“Aye, but Kendrick men, ye ken. They canna get it right the first time.”
Sabrina frowned. “Get what right the first time?”
The old fellow chuckled. “Ye’ll find out soon enough, lass.” Then he clattered up the stairs after his grandson.
Ainsley turned to her. “Now you can tell me exactly what pitched Graeme into such a lather.”
Sabrina held up her hands. “I’m not really sure. One minute we were arguing, and the next minute we were . . .”
“Kissing?”
“It didn’t last very long,” she said in a rueful tone.
Ainsley scoffed. “Angus is right. Kendrick men are so thickheaded that it’s a miracle they manage to get married, much less reproduce.”
“You and Royal managed it.”
“My husband is the only man in this family with any brains. After all, he fell in love with me, didn’t he?”
“I do not believe that Graeme is in any danger of falling in love with me, however.”
Ainsley took Sabrina’s arm and steered her toward the stairs. “Come along, dearest. It’s time you got your first lesson in how to manage a Kendrick male.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ainsley gracefully dropped into a chair and began stripping off her gloves. “Gracious, but it’s hot in here. I thought I was going to keel over while talking to the king.”
Graeme gingerly settled into the spindly chair on the other side of the supper table. He’d spent the last hour prowling every inch of the Assembly Rooms. Since he’d found no trouble, he decided he’d earned some time with his family. The Kendricks had staked a claim to a large table at the edge of the ballroom and settled in for the evening.
He moved aside a vase stuffed with heather and greenery meant to evoke the Highlands and winked at Ainsley. “You and Georgie looked quite cozy. The old boy was flirting with you, obviously.”
Royal glowered at him. “My wife doesn’t get cozy with any man but me, and that includes the king.”
“Sadly, I must admit that Graeme is correct,” Ainsley said. “The king is a terrible flirt, even at his age. He simply can’t help himself.”
“Any man—even one so decrepit as our esteemed monarch—is inclined to flirt with you, sweetheart,” Royal gallantly said. “I only hope you didn’t flirt back.”
“I am a loyal subject of the Crown,” Ainsley responded. “I must do my duty, as should we all.”
“I’m not bloody flirting with him,” Royal said. “I almost lost a leg at Waterloo. I’ve done my bit.”
“This is a ridiculous conversation,” Nick said. “And please do not tell me the
king was engaged in flirtations while Victoria was sitting right next to him.”
Ainsley laughed. “I’m teasing. George has been on his best behavior.”
“Instead of acting like a Sassenach twiddlepoop, as Angus would say,” Graeme said. “Speaking of which, where is the old boy? We need to keep an eye on him, so he doesn’t do anything especially stupid.”
“Like challenge the king to a duel to redress our defeat at Culloden?” Royal wryly asked.
Graeme snorted. “I just don’t want Angus embarrassing Vicky.”
“Angus went with Grant for some fresh air,” Nick said. “Can’t say that I blame him, given the heat and the crowds.”
Ainsley flapped her fan so vigorously that her dainty curls blew straight back off her forehead. “I wish they’d waited for me.”
“Do you want to leave?” Royal asked with concern. “We can try to find a hackney.”
“Good luck,” Graeme said. “It’s a mob scene out there. Half of Edinburgh is milling about on the street, waiting to see the king.”
“And it’s not good form to leave before His Majesty, don’t forget,” Nick added.
Graeme would be happy to insult old Georgie, if it meant he could go home and get much needed sleep. This assignment was turning out to be worse than his last one, since he’d yet to get his hands on even one piece of decent information regarding potential plots. Even worse, Sir Walter Scott and the king’s advisors were determined that George spend as much time as possible out in public. Every time he stepped foot outside, the king was at risk. But from whom or what, Graeme hadn’t a clue.
It was as frustrating as hell.
“Honestly, I can’t wait for it all to be over,” Ainsley said. “Friday was the absolute worst.”
In addition to the other events, there’d been a massive military review at Portobello Sands. The locals had poured in from miles around, with crowds estimated at thirty thousand. The king had arrived by carriage, but had then mounted a gray charger and ridden slowly down the regimental line, creating an excellent target for a potential assassin.
Graeme had shadowed the king as best he could. Grant and Royal had also patrolled the crowd, alert for trouble. Under the circumstances, protecting the monarch was an all but impossible job. If someone had wanted to kill George he’d have had a cracking good chance to do so.
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