Page 11 of A Match Made in Heather

He stopped. And felt like a damnable fool.

He turned away, to gaze once more up at the coat of arms and remember why he was here—and why he’d left. And to curse himself for the rush of jealousy spilling through him at seeing Arabel with another man.

He rubbed at the knot of tension forming at his nape.Christ.He was behaving like some insecure lad instead of the man he was.

Murray stepped away from Arabel, having finished the admonishment he’d leveled at her. And which she’d calmly accepted. From the way fire blazed in her green eyes, though, Garrick knew she’d not forget it. When Murray caught Garrick watching the two of them, he placed an improper kiss to her lips. One that left her glaring at the banker in irritation, and one that twisted Garrick’s insides.

“Safe travels,” he called out as Murray marched toward the door, the devil inside him too powerful to resist. “I’ll be happy to look after Arabel for you.” He lowered his voice to a possessive purr, “Very closely.”

Murray’s stride hitched, and he jerked up straight. Then thinking better of confronting Garrick, he hurried on, snatching his hat and gloves away from the butler and stomping on to the waiting carriage.

“So what’s your plan, now that we’re here?” Arabel demanded, turning on Garrick. “Sell the livestock, raze the house . . . salt the earth so nothing ever grows here again?” She raised her chin. “Just like your cold heart?”

She’d meant to insult, but satisfaction pulsed sweetly inside him that he was able to get a rise out of her so soon on the heels of Murray’s parting. At this rate, she’d flee Highburn by week’s end.

He ignored her comment and drawled instead, “It’s always so heartwarming to see an affianced pair so deeply in love with each other.”

She glared at him but said nothing, knowing not to antagonize him further. For now. With a dismissive sniff, she turned to the housekeeper. “Mrs. Stewart, would you be kind enough to show me to my room? Then I’d like to visit with Aunt Matilda.”

“Aye, Miss. This way.”

The housekeeper led her up the stairs. She didn’t deign to cast a parting glance at him.

Reeves arched his neck to watch her leave, his eyes shining appreciatively as he tugged at his gloves. “Thistle, hmm?” A grin broke across his face. “Might be worth a few pricks.”

“Perhaps,” Garrick said quietly, struck by the force of her. Arabel was never more alluring than when the untamed spirit inside her flared to the surface.

“So it seems you’re determined to remain,” Reeves mused. “Do you wish me to stay as well?”

He shook his head. “I need you to oversee the earldom while I’m gone. I’ll have my hands full here.”

“Oh, I’m certain of it.” Reeves accepted his caped greatcoat from the butler and then glanced meaningfully up the stairs with a grin. “But what would Scotland be without its thistles?”

Knowing to ignore that, Garrick nodded toward the door. “Make certain the banker returns to Edinburgh, will you? I don’t want him interfering here.”

Reeves arched a knowing brow. “So youdohave plans.”

“Pursue that hellion?” He smiled grimly at that. Hadn’t he learned the hard way where pursuing Arabel Rowland led? It had taken him a decade to crawl out of the hell she and her family had thrown him into. He wasn’t about to go back. But . . . “It would be sweet.”

“Because you’d seduce the estate from her?”

“Because having her would be the perfect revenge,” he muttered, contemplating the irony as he looked once more at the Rowland coat of arms. Butthatrevenge he had no plans to enact. Arabel had burned him once. He had no intention of getting that close to her fire again.

The butler cleared his throat. “Yer lairdship.”

Garrick’s gaze darted to the man. He’d forgotten the butler was still there. “Yes, Jamieson?”

“Mrs. Stewart requested that I show ye to yer room, m’laird. She dinna think ye’d find it on yer own.”

“Thank you.” He nodded toward Reeves, then started up the stairs. “Safe travels to you.”

Reeves doffed his hat. “And safe staying at home to you.” Before slipping out the door, he laughed as he threw one last glance upstairs after Arabel. “You’re going to need it!”

Grimacing, Garrick took the stairs two at a time, leaving the portly butler struggling to keep up. When they reached the first floor landing, he let Jamieson lead the way down the hall . . . and right toward where Arabel stood with Mrs. Stewart. The door to the guestroom was open wide, with Mrs. Stewart giving orders to the footmen about where to put Arabel’s luggage.

Jamieson opened the door to the room directly across from hers.

Garrick stopped in pleasant surprise and smiled. “Mine?”