Fallen Angel (60 page)

"I know it's not Scotland," he commiserated.

"Very true," she demurely concurred.

"It cannot compare in grandeur or," he waved his hands vaguely, "or in majesty to this wild Scottish landscape."

"Quite," she said simply.

"But. . ."

She looped her arms around his neck. "But you will be there, my darling. And where you are, my heart will be also."

It was obvious that her words affected him deeply.

"It won't be forever," he promised.

"We'll come back for holidays," she allowed.

It wasn't as if she was really,
really
deceiving him, she told herself. Dishonesty was not in her nature. But for a Scot to admit to a preference for anything English—
that
came too close to treason for comfort. Perhaps, given time . . .

He grasped her small chin and turned her face up to catch the pale morning light which streamed through one of the small porthole windows. "Maddie," he said, "I swear I'll make it up to you."

Naughty thoughts, deliciously wicked thoughts, came tumbling into her mind. It would be a very long time, she decided, before he would pry the truth out of her. She tightened her hands on his shoulders. "Deveryn," she said,
"
you re on.
"

He held her at arm's length and studied her carefully innocent expression. "Madeleina Sinclair Verney," he exclaimed, "you fraud!" And with a great whoop of laughter, he tumbled her in his arms and kissed her till the lady cried "mercy."