“Perhaps because in every instance we’ve met, you’ve been engaged in luring females to their ruin.”
“I am loath to correct a lady, but the females I lure are never unwilling.”
“I doubt that would prove an impediment for yo
u, in any case,” Sabrina remarked archly.
“I fancy it wouldn’t,” he agreed with a tantalizing spice in his voice.
“No.” Her tone was grudging. “You are obviously graced with an unreasonable measure of persuasiveness.”
“To say nothing of my charm and wit.”
Sabrina shut her eyes for a moment in a silent appeal to heaven. He was the most incredibly arrogant man she had ever met. She devoutly wished she could take him down a peg. “I hardly consider it a virtue to have broken scores of female hearts!”
“Ah, lass, never would I purposely wound the fairer sex.”
“Not purposely. I suppose you cannot help it, considering what you are.”
“And what is that?”
“A…a womanizer. A…”
“Hedonist,” he supplied lazily. “Ah, yes, I well recall your opinion of me.”
“Do you deny it?”
He cocked his head, considering her. “No, indeed. My infamous repute is well deserved. I am a man of great lusts.”
She didn’t need him to tell her that he was sexually promiscuous. Doubtless he had bedded more women than she even knew. She wondered if he ever slept alone. “That is supremely evident!” Her gaze swept his nearly nude body with a hint of disdain. “Most polite society would consider it the height of depravity to be carrying on so in the middle of the day.”
Niall’s amusement faded while his expression turned cool. “Firstly, it is not midday. It is scarcely ten of the clock, a perfectly appropriate time to be ‘carrying on so,’ as you so delicately put it. Secondly, I believe this is my domain, where I may conduct myself as I please. And thirdly, Mistress Duncan…” His gaze bored into her. “What right do you have to censure me?”
Sabrina drew herself up. “I claim none. Indeed, it is nothing to me if you choose to while away your time in idle pursuits. But there is more to life than chasing skirts.”
“Oh? And what, pray tell, is there?”
“Duty and honor, for instance. Family. Sacrifice.”
His blue eyes turned hard and challenging. “I have been willing to sacrifice for duty and clan loyalty. I assumed the lairdship of my clan, for which I held neither expectation nor avocation. And,” Niall added in a velvet-honed voice of steel, “I have agreed to consider your proposal of marriage.”
Sabrina raised her eyebrows. “My proposal?”
“Is that not why you sought an audience with me this morn?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Wedding you was not my idea, I assure you!”
“Nor was it mine.” Niall favored her with a wintry smile. “’Tis solely your grandfather’s wish.”
“But I…” She frowned in confusion. “Angus spoke as if the decision was settled. He told me that you concurred.”
“I concur that Angus needs the connection between our clans, that is all.”
Dropping her gaze, Sabrina stared down at the floor, her heart squeezing with a strange pain. Niall McLaren didn’t wish to marry her. She should have known.
“I have no desire to be forced upon any man,” Sabrina replied stiffly. “Certainly not you. I was only willing to consider marriage to you for the good of my kinsmen. For some reason, my grandfather believes that you offer the best chance to ensure our clan’s survival.”
“I know what Angus believes. But if I might indulge in some plain speaking?”