"Well, one, you haven't asked me to dance yet. Two, you should apologize for thinking you have anything to apologize for, when you don't. Three, you shouldn't look so surprised when someone is pulling your leg, because they might get the idea that you're in need of a lesson in the art of silliness and walk off with it."
"Walk off wi' what?" he asked in exasperation after trying to follow her strange trail of thoughts. "Your leg, of course."
It was because she was still looking at him so seriously that his laughter, when it burst out, was so loud and sudden. Not that he cared at the moment if he was drawing eyes their way. Once again she had managed to put him at complete ease, to more or less wash away all his aggravations of the day as if they'd never been.
"One o' these days I'll be asking you for the other four things I was tae apologize for."
"Oh, good, I just love having extra time to be creative in my endeavors. I can be really, really silly when I put my mind to it, you know."
He grinned at her and stressed, “But I'll still be apologizing for leaving you tae your own devices this afternoon, when I should have taken you home m'self for a dry change o' clothes. There's nae excuse for such thoughtlessness on my part. I went back tae the ballroom when I realized it, but you were already gone."
"And now who's being silly? It's not as if I had to go to London to change. Easy enough to find my way home when I live just around the corner, more or less. Is that why you were upset today?" At his own raised brow, she added, "My aunts mentioned that they sensed you were."
"Och, well, that among other things. Wi' both o' my granddas hoping I'll find a wife afore this party ends, I'm feeling a wee bit o' pressure. Disappoint them, or disappoint m'self in a hasty decision, makes
for nae winners. Neville, I dinna care if I disappoint, but he's o' the same mind as Archie on this, and I do care if I disappoint him. Archie, however, is being foolish in what he wants, but you canna tell an auld stubborn Scot that."
"That's quite a predicament," Sabrina replied, her lips pursed thoughtfully. "Perhaps if you weren't trying so hard to make this important decision of yours, it might get much easier for you."
"And the sun managed tae shine all day as well, I noticed," he countered.
Since it had in fact rained most of the day, she scolded lightly, "Don't be so skeptical, when it really does work occasionally. In my own case, I have found that if I don't worry a problem to death, the answer will sometimes just come to me of a sudden. Not always, of course, that would be too simple, but often enough that I do try not to worry about it when a problem first presents itself. A few predicaments do have a way of correcting themselves with no help from you a'tall. Would that they all did," she ended with a smile.
"You're a might young tae be so philosophical, lass."
"You think so?" she said in wide-eyed innocence. "When that's a child's logic I just gave you, that most adults tend to forget once they become adults?"
He chuckled. She was such a treasure, this friend of his. And she looked especially lovely tonight in her simple blue frock with her eyes sparkling with laughter. She had mentioned dancing in jest, but he did want to dance with her, and he realized why. He wanted to touch her.
Duncan sighed inwardly. He had to stop these kinds of thoughts. She wasn't interested in him that way, had never once looked at him with other than camaraderie. She considered him a friend. A fine friend he would be if he pounced on her every chance he got.
He was going to frighten her away if he didn't get control of this sudden attraction he was finding to her. Much as he might like to steal another kiss or two from her, he would much rather have her friendship, which he was finding he valued beyond measure.
But he could dance with her. Even she would think nothing of it, probably did expect him to at least ask her for a twirl about the floor. One dance, and then he would get back to the matter of finding a wife.
Chapter Twenty-nine
"Will you marry me, Sabrina?"
She imagined that he had waited until they were twirling about the dance floor before springing that shocking question on her so she wouldn't just walk off and ignore it as it deserved. She did miss a step and almost tripped them both. And she didn't find him amusing. Marriage was nothing to tease about, really, at least not in such a direct way.
"Don't be absurd," she finally told him. "You know very well that you and I wouldn't suit. Nor would your family approve, as if I need to point that out, when you know it very well."
"If those are your only objections, then we can set a date for the wedding."
She rolled her eyes at him. He was joking. She just wished she could find it a matter for joking as well. Not that she wouldn't have been exceptionally flattered if she thought he was serious. But she was realistic, knew she wasn't a prime catch like he was, even if she didn't have a scandal attached to her name. But she did come packaged with an old scandal, and most families, particularly those that prided themselves on having pristine ancestry, would summarily cross her off a list of possibilities for their heirs.
And besides, she had decided that very afternoon that she was never going to marry, after coming to the heartbreaking conclusion that she loved a man she could never have. Marrying someone else just wouldn't be fair to the man in question, even if that man was Raphael Locke, who might deserve it for treating this subject so frivolously.
"Why won't you believe me?" Raphael asked after her silence continued. "I'm not blind, Rafe," she said uncomfortably.
He ignored the reference to her looks, said instead, "You're wonderful, is what you are. I'd much rather marry someone I truly enjoy being with than some snooty chit who spends all her time primping in front of a mirror."
She laughed. "Well, I'd have to admit mirrors and I don't get along too well. But if I did believe you, my answer would have to be no."
"Why?"
How to explain without really explaining? She decided not to try, to turn the tables on him instead.
"You aren't the least bit devastated by my refusal, which proves you don't love me."
"Well, no, but I like you well enough, and I've no doubt love would blossom in no time a'tall."
She snorted at him. "Now, why would you hope for such an occurrence, rather than wait for it to happen first and then proceed in a more natural order? Why would you even want to get married as young as you are, when you don't have to, and love isn't involved?"
He gave her a wounded look. "You don't think you could learn to love me?"
"When I haven't given you the least indication that I'm interested, might you not conclude that my interest lies elsewhere?"
"Aha! Are we going to confess now that we love someone else?"
She blinked at him. He seemed too triumphant by half with that conclusion.
"Is that what this is all about? You're looking for a grand confession that—"
"Now, now, don't say something we will both regret. No, I'm hoping two people I like will wake up and see what's in front of them before it's too late."
There was a serious side to Raphael Locke, and she was seeing it now. It actually made him much more attractive than his usual attitude of jocularity, but she only barely noticed that.
"And which two people are those?" she asked, her eyes narrowing on him suspiciously.
"You, of course, and that dunderhead Highlander," he replied simply.
Sabrina blushed furiously. Good God, how could he possibly have guessed her feelings when she had only just discovered them herself? Was she obvious about it? Staring at Duncan too long, perhaps? Looking at him in a way she shouldn't? She was mortified to think she might be. Or was it only because she had spent so much time with Duncan the other night, and that had been taken note of? If that was the case, then Raphael was only guessing, and she wasn't about to give him yet another reason to exclaim, Aha!