Page 123 of In Search of a Husband
“And you left this for Scotland?”
“Scotland is home. Paris was a stop along the way to find you.”
She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling up at him. “Verra romantical, Mr. MacInnes.”
He cleared his throat, then dragged a cane chair over to the side of the tub. “I’ve been busy all day, and I need to ken, what did ye learn to bake today?”
Gabriel somehow arranged for private baking lessons for her witha close friend of his who happened to own a restaurant. Three times a week, she learned techniques and practiced making the most delicious pastries she hoped to make at the inn once they returned.
“No croissants today.”
She dreaded croissant day. Rolling the dough with pads of butter, only to fold and repeat. But to eat? Oh, they were divine. She made a point to eat at least one a day, savoring that first bite of the buttery pastry melting onto her tongue.
“Terrible. Ye ken how much I love ‘em.”
She shrugged, thinking it a waste that he wasn’t in the tub with her. “Today we made pain aux raisins.”
“Never cared for them.”
“You haven’t had mine.”
“True,” he said with a laugh. Then he produced a letter. “This arrived for ye today.”
Kate grabbed the missive from his hand, then grabbed his hand, and dropped a kiss on it.
“We’ve dinner tonight, lass. Canna be late.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she teased, intently opening the letter from Charlotte.
She scanned over the brief message and laughed, reclining back into the tub. “Come here and kiss me, Gabe.”
“Kiss ye? That’s nae laughing matter.”
“No, but it seems the duke has returned, and Charlotte is in trouble.”
“How so?”
“She hates the blackguard, or so she thinks. But I believe she still loves him. And rumor has it in London that they need an heir.”
Kate tossed the letter to the small table beside the bath, then pulled on Gabriel’s arm. “I would tell you more, but I’m distracted. Come here and take a bath with me.”
He bent down and kissed a line up her neck, then nibbled on her earlobe. “I thought ye might never ask.”
She reached for his shirt, slipping a few buttons free before his timepiece slipped out and fell onto the floor.
“Can you give that to me for a moment, please?”
He grumbled, and she waved her hand for him to do as asked. “Trust me.”
“Verra well, lass.” He handed over his timepiece, and she peered around him to the grandfather clock in the hall she had fixed last evening.
“Hmm, as I thought.”
“What’s that?”
“You have plenty of time for a bath. Your watch is incorrect.”
“It’s what I wish to do to ye after that might take time.”
