Page 78 of In Search of a Husband
She was feeling especially cheeky. Ever since earlier this morning at the castle when he had stalked her in the hallway as she searched for Ben. His eyes were fire, burning her, possessing her.
Even the thought of the way he gazed at her in the kitchen, clutching the old cat in her arms while covered in butter. She had never been gazed upon with such…feelingbefore.
He leaned against the doorjamb, assessing her. “Ye need a new dress for tonight. To welcome our guests.”
“Your guests.”
He shook his head. “None of this would have been possible if it hadn’t been for yer help, Kate. I was in the weeds, and ye managed to sort things out better than my property manager back in Paris. Ye’ve amind for figures, but more than that, ye’ve a special touch to make everyone welcome. That’s a gift.”
She flashed a quick, embarrassed smile. For the past year, she had felt nothing more than a burden and a disgrace. She felt as if she had nothing to look forward to. And here she was in the Highlands, having hoped to have hidden out from the world, and instead, she had found a home with dear friends.
And Gabriel.
Kate brushed at her skirts. He was right, but she hadn’t the funds for new dresses. “Only if you first allow me to thank you for the opportunity.”
“Opportunity?”
She approached him slowly, willing her hands to stay by her side. But that was the problem. She was in far too deep for there to be an easy out of this affair with Gabriel. She had been curious and fell heart first, and it was too late.
Long past flirtation. She feared she was in love.
Not lust as she had been with the marquess. What she shared with Gabriel was far different. It was bigger and deeper and in so many more ways serious than whatever silly debutante crush she had with London’s most notorious rake.
He had burned her.
And she feared, as Gabriel reached out and pinched a black curl between his finger and thumb, it would happen again soon.
She didn’t wish to remain in London when they treated her as a pariah, and she didn’t know if she wished to remain in Scotland. So where did she belong?
That slow, warm smile of his spread across his face. The one full of unspoken promises. The one that almost made her believe he would ask her to stay.
And she might agree.
“There ye both are,” Elsie said, clearing her throat.
Kate jumped back from Gabriel, pulling her glance away but feeling his piercing stare all the same.
“I’ve a dress for ye,” Elsie continued, juggling a large box. “Freshfrom Paris. And just in time. The guests have arrived downstairs.” She turned toward her brother. “Gabe, move along.”
“Thank ye for yer help, Katherine.” He nodded as if he were suddenly in a London ballroom about to ask for the next dance. All fine manners and polish.
She was still stuck in him uttering her full name when she blinked and realized he had retreated down the hallway, and Elsie was grabbing her arm and steering her into the guest room.
“We’ll dress ye here.”
“What do ye mean?”
“Ye’ll be hostess this evening, nae?”
Kate laughed up toward the ceiling before appraising Elsie in a fine tartan shawl. “Shouldn’t you be hostess?”
“Nae, this is my brother’s venture. I was happy enough in Edinburgh before I received news about Tavish. Go on,” she urged Kate, “open the box.”
Kate peeled back the thick paper wrapping, fighting off a fresh sweep of nerves. She placed her hands over the fine box, then slowly lifted up the top to reveal lavender-scented tissue. Her stomach sank. Never had she worn a gown made in Paris. Never…
“Go on, will ye?” Elsie bounced on her feet, giddy as Kate gave a nervous laugh.
She opened the tissue to reveal a beautiful sky-blue silk bodice. She traced her fingers over the exquisite appliqué work of roses and leaves, and the beautiful frothy lace sewn at the edge of the bodice.
