The Lover Read Free

reputation.”
    “I’m surprised you are concerned with protecting any lady’s reputation,” Sabrina remarked archly.
    He eyed her sharply, his penetrating gaze fixing on her in the darkness. In the moonlight his blue eyes were the color of midnight.
    Sabrina found herself catching a deep breath. He was handsome as the devil, tempting as sin, yet his starkly masculine beauty was not the sole reason a woman’s heart beat erratically with curiosity and fascination when this man was near. He had a quality about him that was intently compelling, dangerous.
    “I collect you know me?” he asked finally.
    “By reputation, merely. Who has not heard of the infamous Niall McLaren?”
    His sensual mouth curled at one corner. “I believe I detect a note of censure, Mistress Duncan.”
    “It is hardly my place to judge you, sir.”
    “But you disapprove of me even so.”
    She did disapprove of him, an attitude she strongly suspected amused him. Prudish, Sabrina was sure he would define it. “In most circles it is considered scandalous to pursue an affair with a married lady.”
    “Apparently we move in different circles,” he responded dryly. “I don’t suppose you would credit it if I told you the lady was pursuing
me
?”
    She could well believe that might be the case. The brazen Highlander would be idolized for his startling physical beauty alone. Yet there was an air about him that was utterly irresistible to women. To her as well, Sabrina acknowledged reluctantly.
    “I don’t remember you putting up any resistance,” she said, mimicking his dry tone.
    “But then ’twould hardly have been the act of a gentleman to disappoint the lady.”
    She
was
amusing him, Sabrina realized. Even in the darkness she could see his arresting eyes were lit with a mocking sparkle.
    “I assure you, mistress, this would not be the first time a lass has lured me into a secluded garden.”
    She bit back a smile at the thought of this bold rogue hiding from over amorous females. “It must be a great trial, being hounded by languishing ladies eager to be seduced.”
    His grin was unwilling—and devastating. “You might be surprised by the tribulations I must endure to uphold my reputation.”
    Sabrina shook her head. She should know better than to enter into a duel of words with an expert in verbal swordplay. Indeed, she should leave at once. Simply being alone with this man could compromise her.
    Yet before she could respond, the Highlander spoke. “If you were not spying, what brought you out here to the garden when a ball is in progress?”
    Sabrina suddenly looked down at her clasped hands. She had no intention of divulging the true reason she’d fled the ballroom: to escape the painful sight of her former suitor dancing with his betrothed—her own cousin. “Is it a crime to partake of fresh air, sir?”
    “Not that I’m aware. I do not recall seeing you earlier this evening, mistress.”
    There was a simple reason for that, Sabrina reflected. Niall McLaren simply hadn’t noticed her. Such a man would scarcely give her a second glance, a wren among a flock of peacocks. She was still in half mourning for her mother, so she had worn her plain gray bombazine gown, much to her aunt’s dismay. Now she wished she had swathed herself in armor of silk and lace, for it might have helped disguise her lack of beauty.
    “Doubtless,” Sabrina forced herself to reply, “it was because I sat with the spinsters and chaperons while you held court with your legion of admirers.”
    “You are unmarried, are you?”
    Sabrina found herself fighting a swift surge of wanton rebellion. At one-and-twenty, she was past the common age for marriage and considered almost on the shelf. “I am, sir.”
    “I own surprise that an heiress would lack for suitors.”
    She averted her gaze from his measuring scrutiny. He could not know how deeply his casual remark wounded her. She’d
had
a suitor. She and Oliver had met during her mother’s illness and