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“You” I silling this not to be true “You’re the host?” My question,at the undignified positioning of my skirt and apron

“Yes,” he answers, his face suddenly falling into grave lines as he rights his kilt with a painful-looking grimace “I’m sure there’s much we don’t know about each other, but—”

“Like the fact you didn’tit still

“It’s not so,” he bites back stiffly

“Sure” I feel inexplicably crushed as he begins to right the cuffs of his shirt

“Those who already know me know I am the head of a dukedom I don’t advertise the fact to anyone else I learned not to with experience”

“How? You don’t even have the accent” But then I realise neither does Isla Neither do the boys

“My father used to have this saying If a cat is born in a stable, it does’nae make it a horse” And wouldn’t you know it, he executes his ansith a perfectly Scottish accent

“I don’t even knohat that’s supposed toelse, not wanting to look at hi myself to

Fate had nothing to do with bringing me here, I think bitterly But maybe he did

“It means I am Scottish and that I’m the Duke of Dalforth, whether you believe it or not, whether I choose to use the accent or not”

“You didn’t say,” I whisper almost myself

“No” He makes no mention of our other untruths this ti weighed to the last pound”

I sense he doesn’t

“There aren’t many of us about Less still with our own teeth, hips, and knees It tends to add to the novelty”

“Well, I hate to point out the obvious, but it wasn’t your wallet I was looking for when I had my hands on your ass”