Love in the Time of a Highland Laird (A Laird for All Time Book 3) Angeline Fortin (pride and prejudice read txt) 📖

homeland. Talks about her world and then one where his cousin would live out the remainder of his days.

Longer hours in the library reading or working their way through his ever-growing list of questions. In many ways, she felt she’d found a kindred soul in him. In all the years she’d immersed herself in science to hide from the fact that she was alone, it’d never occurred to her that she could share it with another.

His roguish method of seduction was working on her. She reveled in his company. His ability to woo her with words was undeniable. His insatiable thirst for knowledge was as sexy as his body.

But his promise to seduce her with kisses in addition to words had been coming up short. He didn’t try to touch her again beyond a casual brush of his fingers or the occasional caress when holding her arm or hand. Even so she was more aware of him with each passing day.

In fact, she was beginning to think it might be fun to… well, do all the wonderfully promiscuous things she’d never had the time or opportunity to do in her life of dedicated academia.

Such thoughts only brought her closer to what she saw as the inevitable conclusion and end of her days at Dingwall.

“How did ye pass yer afternoon wi’oot me?” he asked at dinner the third night.

“After you abandoned me to actually do some work?”

With a pile of correspondence waiting for him, he’d spent a portion of each afternoon in his study. Running Dingwall and the lands attached to it took time and effort. With his father still missing, it had fallen to him to pick up the reins.

“I sobbed uncontrollably, of course,” she quipped, helping herself to another portion of the delicious apple frushie they’d been served for dessert. “How could I possibly survive without your company?”

Valid question, however, as she’d been constantly by his side for days now.

He didn’t seem to mind.

Neither did she.

“Did ye moan and wail?” he retorted. “Tear oot yer hair in grief?”

“Absolutely.” They shared a grin. She liked their banter, too. Surrounded by engineers and physicists for the last few years, Al had almost forgotten what a sense of humor was. “Actually, I spent the afternoon with Peigi hemming a couple more dresses.”

In truth, her new maid had hemmed for them both since Al had no idea how to effectively wield a needle and thread. She’d also kept up a steady stream of amicable chatter that had helped pass the time quicker.

She didn’t mention she stayed in her room in an effort to keep her interfaces with the remainder of the MacCoinnich and Urquhart clan as fleeting as possible.

Artair had asked her to walk with him a couple times. He appeared kind—as a man of the cloth, she supposed it was expected—but as their talks inevitably resulted in tedious pontification, she always felt compelled to keep them brief.

Oran seemed harmless, quiet and scholarly. He seemed more surprised than not when someone noticed he was about and spoke to him. Conversation with him often trickled away to long stretches of awkward silence, and therefore, was also short-lived. Honestly, there was little more that could be hoped for between two of the most socially awkward people born in any time.

Ceana might have been friendly enough if she weren’t prone to sly insinuations with one breath and frivolous chatter with the next. Al had no idea what she truly thought about anything.

Maeve, on the other hand, clearly had it in for her, turning up whenever Al was alone to try to intimidate her into confessing to what Maeve wanted to hear. Mainly that Al really was either the witch or the clootie Maeve alternately accused her of being, and that ultimately she’d had some sort of hand in Hugh’s disappearance.

As Keir had recommended, she avoided the woman as best she could.

“How would ye pass the days in yer time?”

“I told you, I worked. I had a cat.”

“Come, there maun be something more.”

She knew what he was getting at. He’d tried several times to turn the conversation to her personal life. To things she didn’t want to talk about. As she usually did, she deflected the question. “Honestly, there’s really not much to tell. I live… lived a boring, uneventful life.”

“Och,” he scoffed. “Surely, it wisnae so bad.”

She laughed at that. “Keir, I’ve spent the last five years working on a dissertation about the difference between the experimental uncertainty of classical physics and the fundamental uncertainty of quantum mechanics. Does that sound like a life of excitement to you?”

His blue eyes glittered with interest in the candlelight. He leaned toward her in anticipation. God, it really did.

Another meal lost to the debate of scientific discovery between her time and his.

He didn’t seem to mind.

Neither did she.

He was wooing his way straight to the center of her heart.

“Enough of this,” he exclaimed some hours later, pushing away the decanter of wine they’d emptied and standing. “There’s something I want tae show ye this night. Will ye come wi’ me?”

She took his proffered hand and stood, a little unsteadily. “Of course.” Was there any question? “What is it?”

“A surprise. Come.”

In the hall, he took a branched candelabra from his ancient footman to light their way through the unlit castle passages. Through a series of dark drawing rooms they passed without any particular haste. One after another.

“Where are we going? Artair gave me a tour of the castle the other afternoon but I don’t remember going this way.”

“Ye’ll see,” he said mysteriously, leading her into a circular turret in the northeast corner of the castle. Inside, there was nothing but a spiraling staircase ascending up into the darkness. He held the candelabra high and began to climb.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Should I brace myself?”

“Maybe.” Still clumsy in long dresses, she gathered up her skirts in one hand, lifting them high. She rushed to catch up to him, reaching for his strong arm once more. “It’s about your family.”

“Are any