But Alasdair only laughed, low and rich.
“Your Grace, I deeply apologize for my sister’s brashness,” she told him, curtsying.
“Lady Elizabeth,” the duke said, deliberately enunciating her name, his lips curling into a grin. There was a glint of mischief in his eyes—so different from the stormy expression he’d worn the last time she’d seen him. “Seems fate’s taken quite a liking to tossin’ ye into me path.”
Elizabeth met his gaze, steady despite the sudden warmth rising in her chest.
“I’m beginning to agree with you, Your Grace,” she replied dryly, willing herself not to linger on the way his grin made her pulse quicken.
Their eyes held for a moment too long. Something unspoken passed between them. Curiosity. Heat. Something that felt dangerously like anticipation. It was enough to make her breath quicken, enough to make her forget where they were for the span of a heartbeat.
Then mercifully, he turned to Victoria, who stood beside him with her arms crossed and her nose scrunched, as if trying to decide whether to curtsy or interrogate him.
“To answer yer question, wee hurricane,” he said, crouching slightly to her height. “I’d sound funny to ye, lass, because I’m Scottish.”
“You don’t sound like the other duke we know,” Victoria retorted.
“What my sister means, Your Grace, is that we know another duke,” Daphne said. “Our brother-in-law is one, and he doesn’t talk like you.”
Elizabeth could only shake her head.
“Well, that’s because I am nae like him. I’m nae like any dukes ye ken,” the Duke said with a smirk directed at Elizabeth.
He turned to Daphne this time, gave her an exaggerated wink, and reached toward her other ear. Another sweet appeared between his fingers as if conjured from thin air. Daphne gasped and clapped her hands, eyes round with wonder.
Victoria’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “How did you—? You must’ve hidden it!”
“Did I now?” he said innocently, slipping the sweet into Daphne’s hand. “Or maybe I’ve a bit of Highland magic about me.”
“More like Highland trickery,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.
He caught it, of course.
“Trickery can be useful, me lady,” he murmured, his gaze lingering just a moment too long on her face. “Especially if it makes a lady such as ye smile.”
Elizabeth looked away quickly, cheeks warming, cursing the part of her that fluttered at his words.
“Thank you for the sweet again, Your Grace,” Daphne said. “Our mother didn’t even want her to come here, and now, we got some free sweets!”
“It’s only fair, aye,” he replied with mock seriousness. “I admit ye startled me half to death, comin’ in like a whirlwind like that.”
“You don’t look dead,” Victoria complained.
“Ah, but that’s because I’m very good at tricks,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper, his eyes darting back to Elizabeth once more.
“Lizzie, can we please browse the shop now?” Victoria whined. “Our five minutes will be up soon.”
“Oh, no!” Daphne gasped, “Please Lizzie? With sugar and cinnamon on top?”
“Go on ahead you two. Make it quick. And only one piece for each of you, or we won’t hear the end of it from your mother,” Elizabeth urged with a gentle but playful shove at their shoulders.
“Good day, Your Grace!” Daphne snuck in a proper curtsy, which made the Duke chuckle.
“Ta-ta, Highland trickster!” Victoria exclaimed from behind her shoulder and Elizabeth opened her mouth to remind her proper etiquette, but the girl was already gone between the sweet shop’s aisles.
The Duke chuckled again, a bit louder this time. The warm, deep sound left echoes across her body, echoes which swiftly turned into tingles and heat.
After Daphne followed her twin, Elizabeth turned back to the Duke.