Free Mia Marlowe by Plaid Tidings Page B

stepped close, pinning her between his body and the shelves, and retrieved it for her.
    “Here you are.”
    He handed her the bottle but didn’t move away. Their bodies weren’t touching, but Lucinda fancied she could feel the heat of him in any case.
    “You’re patient with your aunt too,” he said, still not moving to allow more space between them.
    “Weel, o’ course, I am. She’s family,” Lucinda said.
    “What difference does that make?”
    She turned and stared up at him as if he’d sprouted a second head. “Dinna ye ken that our family teaches us about the world and our place in it? Whatever we may know about the important things in life, we learn at our parents’ knees. ’Tis said one may choose their friends, but God chooses a family for us.”
    Alex snorted. “The Lord must have a sense of humor to send you scurrying about trying to please someone who can’t be pleased.”
    She smiled at that. “I’m sure we all give Him reason to chuckle from time to time. Oh, I know Aunt Hester may seem like an old bother, but how d’ye know she wasn’t put into my life to teach me the patience ye see in me?”
    “So you’re saying we deserve the family we’ve been given?” He leaned a hand on the cupboard behind her. “If I’d known that, I’d have repented in sackcloth and ashes long ago.”
    “Is your family so terrible, then?”
    “More like nonexistent.”
    Lucinda knew that wasn’t true. According to The Knowledgeable Ladies’ Guide to Eligible Gentlemen, Alexander’s father and brother were very much alive. Of course, there was also that cryptic entry about madness in connection with his mother. Perhaps it was time to change the subject.
    “Weel, I’ll have Aunt Hester all packed up and ready to go by the time the coach returns for us.”
    “Speaking of packing, what’s in that hatbox you’ve been so precious about?” he asked.
    “Just a little something for me wedding,” she said. The veil that her mother had worn for her wedding was tucked in the padded compartment. It was a delicious confection of lace that had been handed down through several generations of MacOwen women. Lucinda had never dreamed she’d actually ever wear it and wed such a handsome fellow in the bargain. She was still tempted to pinch herself each time she looked at Alexander Mallory. “I want ye to be surprised.”
    “No worries there. I’ve been surprised nearly every moment of the day since I arrived in Scotland. Even the word ‘wedding’ gives me a bit of a jolt.”
    She pressed down her disappointment. He was no closer to being a willing bridegroom than he was when he stepped off the Agatha May.
    “Lucinda!” Great-Aunt Hester bellowed.
    “A moment, aunt,” she called back. Alex still didn’t move away, so she tipped her chin up to meet his gaze.
    “You’ve been patient about other things besides your aunt. Like finding those other three men to kiss. There’s been no chance for you to even meet any since we’ve been delayed in moving to Dalkeith,” he said. “Unless of course you kissed Mr. Gow while I was otherwise occupied.”
    That made her chuckle. “He’s no’ exactly the sort of man who makes girls’ pantalets twist, is he?”
    “I suppose not.”
    He leaned toward her, a hand on the shelf at her shoulder. There was no need to imagine she could feel his warmth now. Their bodies were touching and it was as if a low fire had been kindled in her belly.
    “What sort of man might affect a lady’s pantalets like that?” he asked.
    “As if ye didna know, Your Much of a Muchness.” She couldn’t resist naming him thus when the hard length of him was pressed up against her.
    “I thought you wouldn’t call me that till you knew if I deserved it.”
    “I’m making . . . an educated guess.”
    “If I’m the first man to ever kiss you, I don’t think you may consider yourself educated in such matters. Not even enough for a guess.”
    “Then why dinna ye educate me?”
    His