Free Smitten by the Spinster by Cassidy Cayman Page B

instantly if she saw him all gussied up in more formal attire. As much as she hated wrestling herself into her many layers each morning, she’d grown a fondness for the men’s outfits of this time. They were just so flattering, especially when the man had a body that was easy to flatter, like Quinn did. When she was back in her own time, she’d probably have to buy an elaborate costume for any new boyfriend, and hope he put up with her weird breeches fetish. She turned her face into the cooling breeze. She really had to convince him to start wearing his kilt so she could stop being mesmerized by his trousers.
    “Ye dinna think I’ll start a fight?” he asked.
    “Do you start many fights, normally?” She looked up at him to see he was giving her question serious thought.
    “I didna used to, in fact I dinna like fighting. That’s more Lachlan’s area of expertise. I’m a peaceful sort.” He patted the arm she had linked through his. “I can hold my own, mind ye.”
    She giggled and chomped down on her lip to keep it in. “I’ve no doubt.”
    He scowled. “With men my own size.”
    She couldn’t help it and burst out laughing, recalling the little pickpocket who’d got the best of him on their first day in London.
    “Are there men your own size?” she asked.
    Human men, she wanted to clarify. Not Viking demi-gods. The look he gave her made her realize she was flirting with him, and he knew it. There was pure devilry in his eyes.
    “Wear the kilt,” she breathed.
    “As ye like,” he answered, tilting his chin to Catie, who’d met up with someone further up the path.
    All the fun and sparkle darkened to concern when he saw the young man take her hand, and he stepped forward with purpose in his stride. Lizzie tightened her grip on his arm and dug in her heels, alarmed at the stormy look on his face.
    “It’s just the neighbor boy. Catie made his acquaintance yesterday. He’s harmless.”
    Quinn relaxed slightly, but the menacing look remained. Lizzie stopped in her tracks and tugged on his arm until he looked down at her.
    “This is scary,” she said, waving her hand around his face. “If you look at every man who speaks to Catie the way you look right now, she’ll never even get one dance, let alone a marriage proposal.” He slowly relaxed his features to mere stoniness. “Come now, you can do better than that. Try friendly and inviting.”
    His face bloomed into a smile at her lightly teasing encouragement and she dropped his arm. Do not liken him to the sun, she told herself, even as she found herself leaning toward him. But he was golden and big, and quite honestly, brighter than the actual sun at the moment, which had given up and retired behind the clouds.
    “There you go. That’s perfect,” she said, unable to look at him anymore. “I shall introduce you. Please try not to give the poor kid a heart attack.”
    Quinn laughed and took her arm again, pulling her against his side. “Ye must stay close,” he said. “It seems I need a chaperone as much as wee Catie.”
    Oliver held his own just fine under Quinn’s fierce greeting. Lizzie unobtrusively poked him in the ribs when he thrust out his hand in an alarmingly aggressive manner, hoping he wouldn’t shake the young man to pieces.
    “An honor to meet you, sir,” Oliver said, barely wincing at the firm handshake. “My family has a property in the lowlands. My grandmother was a Dunbar.”
    Well, well. He was clearly working to impress Quinn, which meant he already had designs on Catie.
    “We dinna get to the lowlands much,” Quinn said. “Though I think I came across a Dunbar in a pub once. He liked to hear the sound of his own voice, got verra drunk and began to sing on one of the table tops. Someone tossed him into the street, and he kept on warbling, even after he got doused with a bucket of water.”
    “That’ll be one of my relatives, I’ve no doubt,” Oliver laughed.
    Lizzie had to struggle not to groan. She’d have to