"If I don’t marry you, we remain in an impossible situation. You more than me. Respectable society will shun you."
"I know." Her lips turned down, as she recalled what had happened when she went out yesterday afternoon. Hamish had told her that now she was considered a fallen woman, she’d be a pariah. She hadn’t quite believed it, until she faced it in person. "None of the neighbors will look at me, let alone talk to me. Yesterday on the street, Mrs. Carew rushed her daughters away as if I had the plague."
Hamish’s eyes darkened to sapphire. "Spiteful, self-righteous cat."
"Yes." His pity was never welcome, but right now, she felt better to know he took her part. She’d started to feel like nobody else did.
He came to his feet and moved to stand a couple of feet away. "Is it the physical act itself that repulses you?" The question was gentle. "Or is it me in particular?"
She studied him, as she struggled to come up with an answer he’d understand. Hamish was highly annoying and far too full of himself, but he didn’t repulse her. "It’s not you in particular."
"That’s something." He didn’t sound gratified. "If it’s the act itself, how did you imagine you’d manage to marry?"
Oh, dear, she didn’t want to talk about this. She really didn’t. Her stomach clenched with embarrassment.
When she’d lain awake all night, wondering what on earth she could do, she’d assumed that her ridiculous demand would set off one of Hamish’s tantrums. He’d storm out and leave her to muddle through on her own.
Perhaps his temper at Greenwich had been an aberration. Perhaps the man of thirty had learned a self-control that the pretty, spoiled boy of twenty had lacked.
Of course he has, you brainless widgeon. He’s been out making his way in the world – and very successfully, too. He doesn’t have to settle for a dedicated spinster past first youth.
Emily told the snide voice to shut up. Since the incident at Greenwich, that snide voice had become a constant companion. "I’m twenty-four and haven’t yet met a gentleman for whom I’d sacrifice my independence."
Except her independence relied on her place as John Baylor’s daughter. Without her father’s protection, her independence became frailer than rice paper. Hamish knew that as well as she did.
"I’m sure you’ve had offers."
She shrugged. "A couple. Men hoping my work would assist them to a scientific reputation, even as they deplore God wasting a good brain on a mere female. Older gentlemen seeking a capable housekeeper and an unpaid secretary. Nobody I could—"
"Love."
The word crashed down between them the way a boulder toppled from a cliff onto a mountain path.
"Yes," she said gravely. "I suppose you disdain the idea."
To her bewilderment, he smiled. And not one of his lofty "I’m a man and better than you, and don’t you forget it" smiles. This smile was sincere and held a touch of sweetness. Her heart started to behave very oddly, as though Hamish Douglas caught it and squeezed it tight in his big hand.
"Not a bit of it. I’ve seen too many successful love matches to doubt love’s power."
Well, for heaven’s sake, that wasn’t what she’d expected him to say.
Astonishment thundered through her. So far this interview had been uncomfortable and full of unwelcome discoveries. One of the most unwelcome discoveries was that Hamish Douglas wasn’t nearly as easy to understand as she’d thought.
She tangled her hands in her skirts, and to her surprise – yet another surprise – she found herself speaking from the heart. "I don’t want to share my bed with a man I don’t love."
When Hamish didn’t respond, she went on in a dull voice, because the neighbors’ snubs had given her a foretaste of a grim future. "So you see a match between us is impossible."
"If I give you time, might you change your mind about marital relations?"
Go to Hamish’s bed where his big body would invade hers and when there was no genuine fondness between them at all? No, she didn’t want that. She couldn’t imagine she ever would. "No."
He eyed her as if she was a constellation he set out to map. "You forgo the chance of children."
"I had no firm plans to marry anyway." His focused attention made her feel uncomfortable, and she shifted under his searching gaze. "I told you I like my independence too well to sacrifice it to a man’s convenience. Most men don’t want wives who go their own way. You’re the one who needs children. You owe a duty to your title and ancestral lands."
He shrugged. "I have nieces and nephews and cousins aplenty. Glen Lyon can go to someone in the family. It’s not entailed."
Her mouth dropped open in shock. She’d always assumed that Hamish would be determined on having a son to continue his line. It was all part of his king of the beasts personality.