At his suggestive remark, the uncertainty in her expression was replaced by exasperation. “There is nothing I would enjoy less.”
Niall clucked his tongue. “I gather you mean to act the shrew this morning. ’Tis a pity you’ve refused me admittance to your bedchamber. You are far more agreeable when you’ve been bedded.”
Her jaw dropped in outrage at his audacity. “I would be more agreeable still if I needn’t set eyes on you.”
The laughter in his eyes spilled over to his mouth as he took her arm. “Sheath your claws, tiger. ’Tis merely a shopping expedition, nothing more. I shan’t seduce you unless you are willing.”
Sabrina did not trust his assurances one whit. Niall was wooing her, the way he’d never done before their marriage, but she didn’t care for it in the least. Although he seemed to be making a concerted effort to please her, he was plotting her downfall, playing a game of cat-and-mouse where she was the prey.
She knew how to play his game of seduction, though. She’d been taught by an expert, after all.
Sabrina eyed Niall thoughtfully as he strolled beside her. Since resistance did not appear to be working, she would try using what feminine weapons she had at her disposal—flirtation and charm and teasing banter—to make Niall fawn over her. She would give him a taste of his own medicine. And in the end she would demand nothing less than his complete surrender.
They toured the finer shops of Edinburgh, milliners, modistes, furriers, jewelers…It did not take long for Sabrina to realize she was the object of great curiosity among the females they encountered. Ladies and serving maids alike obviously envied her being escorted by such a handsome rogue as the McLaren. The compelling Highlander possessed an indescribable appeal that lured and dazzled.
Sabrina was not immune, in truth. A secret part of her was thrilled to be wanted so fiercely by this magnificent man.
What truly gratified her, though, was discovering that she had her own admirers. Any number of gentlemen they met cast appreciative glances her way, and the feminine side of her could not help but be pleased. More satisfying still was Niall’s frown each time she managed a flirtatious smile at a stranger.
To her dismay, Niall purchased countless items for her, lace fripperies, ribbons, fans, gloves…a cloak of rich bronzed brocade trimmed with marten.
“To complement your sparkling eyes,” he suggested provocatively in a voice she could not trust.
Sabrina forced herself to thank him for his generosity. She even held her tongue when he fingered a bolt of emerald satin. But when he ordered it made up into a ball gown studded with crystal beads, she forgot her plan and protested his extravagance.
“This is too much, Niall! Such largess is not only unnecessary but decadent. Your silver would be better spent on your clan.”
“That is one of the things I admire about you, mouse; your frugality. But I have the wherewithal to gown my lady in finery. And the Duke of Kintail is holding a ball a sennight hence.”
“I shan’t attend. Purchase the gown, if you will, but I mean to remain at home with my stepfather.”
He flashed that teasing, wayward smile that always constricted her throat. “I shall take great delight in persuading you to change your mind.”
Taking a deep breath, Sabrina made herself smile sweetly in return. “And I,” she murmured under her breath, “shall take great delight in making you plead.”
It was when they entered a millinery shop in search of bonnets that she had to hold her tongue for a different reason. There they encountered a noblewoman and her two lively daughters who positively gushed over the McLaren laird, but evidently mistook Sabrina for his latest inamorata. The ladies’ frost turned to shock when Niall presented Sabrina as his wife
.
“As you see,” Niall said with a male grin when they were alone once more, “you should be honored to have captured me. Matchmaking mamas have been throwing their daughters at my head for years, yet I have never succumbed until I met you.”
She sent him an arch look. “I am not yet convinced you have truly succumbed.”
“Use your wits, sweeting. Would I make a laughingstock of myself pursuing my wife in so public a manner if I meant to continue my licentious career as a libertine?”
“I hardly consider escorting me shopping as making a laughingstock of yourself.”
“You mean to make me grovel, is that it?”
She gave Niall a considering glance. “That might prove amusing, I admit.”
“I will, if that will convince you. I will prostrate myself at your feet.”
Smiling serenely, Sabrina gathered her skirts, raised the hem a few inches, and proffered her slippered foot.
Niall laughed out loud, his devilish eyes full of mischief and affection. “Ah, what a treasure you are, mouse! How I cherish you.”
It was when they entered a jeweler’s shop that Sabrina encountered a gentleman of her acquaintance. He was engaged in examining a pearl brooch at the counter.