Free The Perfect Stranger by Anne Gracíe Page A

carrying and said for the fourth time. “I canna believe ye mean tae do this, Cap’n! It’s pure folly!”
    “I don’t think so,” Nick said.
    Mac made a scornful sound. “She’ll be after your money! I’ve seen her kind before! Takin’ advantage of your better nature wi’ that pathetic tale—and that blasted female catch in her voice! Guaranteed to tweak at a man’s heartstrings! And you let her tweak awa’ on ye, like a great gormless harp!”
    The harp strode on, unmoved. “She’s a lady, Mac, fallen on hard times.”
    “Pah! A lady? I doubt it!” He snorted. “In that tatty silk dress cut down to indecency. You’re no well enough acquainted wi’ the wiles o’ women, that’s your problem!”
    “Indeed?” Nick was unmoved. Mac’s opinion was reliable about most things, but not about women. Not since a certain señorita from Talavera had taken him for everything he had. Until then, the big Scot had been the biggest soft touch, rescuing widows, orphans, and strays of all sorts—witness Beowulf. But Pepita—damn her larcenous little soul—had trampled on the big man’s pride and broken his heart into the bargain. Mac had been sour on women ever since.
    “Aye, well, a plain wee thing like her needs wiles, I’ll admit, wi’ that lopsided purple face o’ hers and that terrible case o’ spots.”
    “The swelling will go down, and the bruise will fade. And they’re not spots, they’re scratches and midge bites and will disappear. Once she’s restored to England she will be quite pretty. In any case, you’ll not have to look at her long. I’m sending her to my mother.”
    Mac said with dark foreboding, “And how will your mam cope when yonder lass brings shame and disgrace to your name?”
    “How will she do that, pray?”
    “Dalliance—and worse! Wi’ other men!”
    Pepita had done just that with Mac, so Nick kept his tone mild. “She won’t shame me with other men. And after a while it won’t matter anyway.”
    There was a short silence.
    “She’s already run off wi’ one man—and who’s to say whether he was the first or not? Mebbe that’s what had happened last night wi’ those chaps on the beach—only she wasn’t prepared to go through wi’ it at the last minute! Females are contrary. Ye know that.”
    “Some females,” admitted Nicholas. “But not Miss Merrit. I think she’s exactly as she represents—apart from the false name—”
    “Ye see!”
    “Now, Mac, you’ve said your piece and cleared your conscience, and I’ll hear no more disparagement of her. The lady is to be my wife.”
    “Och, but Capt’n, she’s a—”
    “I said, enough!”
    After that, Mac said not another word on the subject, but his silence was like himself: large, Scottish, and disapproving.

Chapter Four
It is always incomprehensible to a man that a woman should ever refuse an offer of marriage.
J ANE A USTEN
    F AITH HAD CAUGHT SEVERAL FISH AND DONE A GREAT DEAL OF thinking by the time the men returned from the town. She felt a distinct lurch in her stomach as Nicholas Blacklock’s tall figure strode around the cape. His gleaming black boots ate up the distance between them. He looked relaxed, unworried, totally in command.
    Yes, she could easily imagine him as an officer. He had an air about him, a faint unconscious arrogance, a natural authority. He was used to dominating other men. Deciding what was best for others. Burning their boots.
    If she chose to let him, Nicholas Blacklock would dominate Faith, too. If she chose to let him.
    “You burned my boots!” She accused him the moment he was close enough.
    “They needed burning.” There was not a trace of contrition in his voice or demeanor.
    Her anger sparked back into life. “They were my boots!”
    He glanced at her feet. “They gave you blisters. How are they, by the way?”
    She hid her feet under her skirt. “None of your business. You had no right to burn my boots.”
    “I know. It was an impulse that I couldn’t