Page 6 of The Sinner
“’Tis a pleasure to talk with a woman who is almost as set against marriage as I am.” Alex lifted his cup to her. “To our escape from that blessèd union.”
Apparently Glynis couldn’t spare him a smile, but she did raise her cup to his.
“How could ye tell my gown was padded?” she asked.
“I pinched your behind.”
Her jaw dropped. “Ye wouldn’t dare.”
“Ach, of course I would,” he said, though he hadn’t. “And ye didn’t feel a thing.”
“How did ye know I didn’t feel it?” she asked.
“Well, it’s like this,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows. “A pinch earns a man either a slap or a wink, and ye gave me neither.”
Her laugh was all the more lovely for being unexpected.
“Ye are a devil,” she said and poked his arm with her finger.
That long, slender finger made him wonder what the rest of her looked like without the padding. He was a man of considerable imagination.
“Which do ye get more often, a wink or a slap?” she asked.
“’Tis always a wink, lass.”
Glynis laughed again and missed the startled looks her father and sisters gave her.
“Ye are a vain man, to be sure.” She took a drumstick from the platter as she spoke, and Alex realized he hadn’t taken a bite since she sat down.
“It’s just that I know women,” Alex explained, as he took a slab of roasted mutton with his knife. “So I can tell the ones who would welcome a pinch.”
Glynis pointed her drumstick at him. “Ye pinched me, and I didn’t want ye to.”
“Pinching your padding doesn’t count,” Alex said. “You’d wink if I pinched ye, Mistress Glynis. Ye may not know it yet, but I can tell.”
Instead of laughing and calling him vain again, as he’d hoped, her expression turned tense. “I don’t like the way my father looks.”
“How does he look to ye?” Alex asked.
“Hopeful.”
* * *
Alex and Duncan slept on the floor of the hall with a score of snoring MacNeils. At dawn, Alex awoke to the sound of soft footfalls crossing the floor. He rolled to the side and leaped to his feet, leaving his host kicking the empty space where Alex had been lying.
“You’re quick,” the MacNeil said, with an approving nod. “I only meant to wake ye.”
“That could have gotten ye killed,” Alex said, as he slipped his dirk back into his belt. “And then I’d have no end of trouble leaving your fine home.”
Duncan was feigning sleep, but his hand was on the hilt of his dagger. If Alex gave the signal, Duncan would slit their host’s throat, and the two of them would be halfway to their boat before anyone else in the hall knew what had happened.
“Come for a stroll with me,” the MacNeil said. “I’ve something to show ye.”
“I could use some fresh air after all the whiskey ye gave me last night.”
Because it was difficult to discover a man’s true intentions when he was sober, Alex had matched the MacNeil drink for drink far into the night. No doubt his host had the same goal in mind.
“No one forced it down your throat,” the MacNeil said, as they left the hall.
