He cocked an eyebrow. "Do ye snore, Catriona? Or perhaps chew the betel nut of the East?"

Laughingly she shook her head in the negative.

"Do ye like music, and poetry, and the melodious sounds of foreign tongues? Do ye like riding out in the misty quiet of a spring morning, or beneath a border moon on an autumn's evening? Does the first snow of winter delight ye? Do ye like bathing naked in a hidden stream on a hot summer's day?"

"Aye," she whispered softly, and for some reason her heart beat quickly. "I love all those things, my lord."

"Then, my dear, ye should love me, for I love those things also."

Catriona's thick dark-golden lashes brushed against her flushed cheeks and the little pulse in her throat quickened. My first breach in the ice, Patrick thought, and pressed his luck further. "Will ye seal our bargain wi a kiss?" he asked.

She raised her head, and her leaf-green eyes gazed at him a moment. Closing her eyes, she pursed her rosebud mouth at him.

"Thank ye, Catriona," he said gently. "Thank ye for yer first kiss."

"How did ye know?"

"Innocence has a beauty all of its own, my love." He stood. "Let me escort you back to your guests."

When they appeared in the hall, Heather noted with relief that her daughter no longer looked sulky and her nephew looked content. He'll win her over, she thought. And looking on Glenkirk with a woman's eye, she said softly to herself, "Oh, my Cat! What a lovely adventure awaits ye!"

Chapter 2

FIONA Leslie lay on her bed, musing about her cousin Patrick, the Earl of Glenkirk. She thought how very much she would like to be his countess. Instead, that milk-and-water virgin Catriona Hay was to be his wife! Ridiculous!

Fiona knew that there had once been talk of a match between her and Glenkirk. Then Grandmam had interfered, and she'd ended up married to that weak fool Owen Stewart. How she had hated the old lady for that. Grandmam had known it.