Keir Macrae Quotes

“... was Aunt Evie very upset when you told her about the letter?"
"No. Only concerned for the boy's sake, and mine as well."
"Many women in her position would consider him as... well, an embarrassment."
That drew a real smile from him, the first she'd seen from him in a while. "You know Evie. She already thinks of him as someone else to love.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Merritt was dumbstruck at the sight of his clean-shaven face.
Dear God. He was beyond handsome. The cushioning thick beard was gone, revealing the brooding masculine beauty of a fallen angel. His features were strong but elegantly refined, the cheekbones high, the mouth full and erotic.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“The long, involved conversation he'd had with Merritt after breakfast had been full of revelations about the duke's long-ago affair with Cordelia, Lady Ormande, and its consequences- one of which was very likely Keir himself. Which meant the red-haired woman at the threshold could very well be his half sister, and the wailing imp in her arms his niece.
Having been raised by elderly parents, Keir had never expected a sibling. His rowdy pack of friends were his brothers, and the men at the distillery were his extended family. It was strange to think of having a sister. It shocked him, in fact, to realize that for the first time in his life, here was someone... a woman... with whom he might have a blood tie. And not just any woman, but an aristocratic lady. There was nothing for them to talk about, no experiences they had in common.
But as he stared at Lady Phoebe, she seemed like any ordinary young mother on Islay, who hadn't had quite enough sleep and couldn't always tell what her baby wanted. There was a smart, bright look about her- canty, a Scot would say, a word that suggested the dancing flicker of a candle flame.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“What were you singing?" Merritt asked. "A lullaby?"
"An old song from the islands, about a selkie." Seeing the word was unfamiliar, he explained, "A changeling, who looks like a seal in the water but takes the form of a man on land. In the song he woos a human maiden, who gives birth to his son. Seven years later, he comes back to take the child." Keir hesitated before adding absently, "But before they leave, the selkie tells the mother he'll give the boy a gold chain to wear on his neck, so she'll recognize him if they meet someday."
"Are she and her son ever reunited?" Merritt asked.
Keir shook his head. "Someone brings her the gold chain one day, and she realizes he's dead. Shot by-" He broke off as he saw Merritt's face begin to crumple. "Och," he exclaimed softly. "No... dinna do that..."
"It's so terribly sad," she said in a watery voice, damning herself for being emotional.
A chuckle broke from Keir as he moved closer. "I won't tell you the rest, then." His hand cupped the side of her face, his thumb wiping an escaping tear. "'Tis only a song, lass. Ah, you've a tender heart." His blue eyes sparkled as he looked down at her. "I warn you, no more tears or I'll have to put you on my shoulder and pat you asleep as I did the bairnie."
It left Merritt temporarily speechless, that he sincerely seemed to believe she would regard that as a threat.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Although Keir would always prefer his island to anywhere else in the world, he had to admit this place had its own magic. There was a softness about the air and the sun, a trance of mist that made everything luminous. Lowering to his haunches, he ran his palm back and forth over the fine golden sand, so different from the caster-sugar grains of the beaches on Islay.
At Merritt's quizzical glance, he dusted his hands and smiled crookedly. "'Tis quiet," he explained. "On the shore near my home, it sings."
"The sand sings?" Merritt asked, perplexed.
"Aye. When you move it with your foot or hand, or the wind blows over it, the sand makes a sound. Some say it's more like a squeak, or a whistle."
"What makes it do that?"
"'Tis pure quartz, and the grains are all the same size. A scientist could explain it. But I'd rather call it magic."
"Do you believe in magic?"
Keir stood and smiled into her upturned face. "No, but I like the wonderments of life. Like the ghost fire that shines on a ship's mast at storm's end, or the way a bird's instinct leads him to the wintering grounds each year. I enjoy such things better for no' understanding them."
"Wonderments," Merritt repeated, seeming to relish the word.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“The day after you pop up at your distillery alive and kicking, someone will come to finish you off."
"Let them try," Keir shot back. "I can defend myself."
The duke arched a mocking brow. "Impressive. Only a matter of days ago, we were celebrating that you were able to drink through a straw. And now apparently you're well enough for an alley fight."
Keir was instantly hostile.
"I know how to keep up my guard."
"That doesn't matter," Kingston replied. "As soon as your arm muscles fatigue, your elbows will drift outward, and he'll find an opening."
"What would a toff like you know about fighting? Even with my ribs cracked, you couldn't take me down."
The older man's stare was that of a seasoned lion being challenged by a brash cub.
Calmly he picked up a small open pepper cellar from the table and dumped a heap of ground black pepper in the center of Keir's plate.
Perplexed, Keir glanced down at it, as a puff of gray dust floated upward. His nose stung, and in the next breath, he sneezed. A searing bolt of agony shot through his rib cage. "Aghhh! He turned away from his plate and doubled over. "Devil take your sneakit arse!" he managed to gasp.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“It must have been a nightmare to learn you had a grown child you were never told about. It could have just as easily happened to Marcus, you know."
"Hard to imagine."
"Not really. No matter how careful one is, there's always a risk. As the mother of six children, I ought to know."
Sebastian sent her a bleak glance. "I always knew I'd have to pay for my sins in some future cosmic reckoning. But in my arrogance, it didn't occur to me that a man never bears the cost of his sins alone. The people around him --- especially those who love him --- have to pay as well. That's the worst part of it."
It was the most vulnerable he'd ever allowed himself to be with her.
When Lillian replied, her voice was uncommonly gentle. "Don't be unduly hard on yourself. Ever since you married Evie, you've tried to be the man she deserves. In fact, you've inhabited the role of a good man for so long, I think you may be growing into it. We become our choices, eventually.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Although Evie was far quieter than the rest of the family, everyone paid close attention whenever she spoke. For all her gentleness, she possessed a core of inner strength that had made her the center of the Challons' world. And she was so kind that Keir couldn't help but like her. When they'd first met, the duchess had stared at him for a moment of wonder, and then had smiled and embraced him with tear-glittered eyes, as if he were her own long-lost child instead of Kingston's.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“With every single horse I own, I often lay the reins on his neck and let him move forward to find his own natural balance and gait. I've seen far too many overbearing riders constantly manage and adjust the horse to force its obedience. Every little toss of the head or momentary hesitation is corrected. A variety of torturous bits, spurs, and straps are employed to make it submit. Some horses endure such treatment, but far more are ruined by it. Always let a horse be a horse." He paused. "Do you take my meaning?"
"Aye, milord."
"Was an analogy really necessary, Westcliff?" Kingston asked. "You could have simply said, 'Please be kind to my headstrong daughter and don't break her spirit.'"
"Force of habit," the earl said. "None of my sons pay attention unless it's horses.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Phoebe left a note asking me to go through our family genealogy books to see if we had any Scottish ancestors. She found none on your mother's side at all, and she said you'd be disappointed if there were none on Father's side."
Surprised and touched by both sisters' concern, Keir shook his head with a smile. "Dinna worry about that, Seraphina. I decided 'tis enough to be Scottish in my heart."
"Still, you wouldn't mind if I told you we have some Scottish blood, would you?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. "Because I've discovered that we do in fact have a Scot in our family tree! It's been overlooked because he's not in our direct line. I had to trace the connection through some female ancestors instead of going only through the male lineage. But we are very clearly indisputably descended from a Scot who was our great-great-great-great-great... well, let's say eighteen-times-great... grandfather. And just see who it is!" Seraphina unfolded the parchment, which was inscribed with a long vertical chart of connected names. And at the top-

ROBERT I
King of Scots

"Robert the Bruce?" Keir could feel his heart expanding in his chest.
"Yes," Seraphina said gleefully, leaping up and bouncing on her heels.
Keir stood, laughing, and bent to kiss her cheek. "One drop of Robert the Bruce's blood will do the job. I could no' be happier. Thank you, sister." He tried to hand the chart back to her, but she shook her head.
"Keep that if you like. Isn't it wonderful news? I have to go tell Ivo we're Scottish!" She left the room triumphantly.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“There was no reason to make a fuss. But he kept his head down as his eyes and nose stung and the room became a watery blur. His throat clenched until he had to clear it.
In the next moment, he felt himself caught in a secure, roughly affectionate grip, one hand at the nape of his neck, the other clamping on his shoulder to bring him close in something that wasn't quite an embrace, but felt like one. And through the ramshackle pattern of his own breathing, he heard Kingston's vibrant and unsteady voice.
"You’ll always be Lachlan MacRae’s son. But you’re mine too.” A pause, and then he added hoarsely, “You can be mine too.”
“Aye,” Keir whispered, while an unexpected sense of peace stole over him.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“A stranger stood beside him, tall and stern-faced, blindingly handsome, with silvery-gold hair. He looked like an angel. Not the kind offering comfort- the kind sent to smite people. Almost certainly this was the angel of death, and about time he appeared. Even hell would be better than this.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“The light from a single lamp gilded both men's profiles, making it impossible to ignore their likeness, even with the thick beard covering the lower half of Keir's face. The long, straight noses, the high-planed cheekbones, the way their hairlines were shaped in a very slight widow's peak. Even the hand Kingston laid across Keir's forehead, the fingers long and blunt-tipped... that was familiar, too.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Does Aunt Evie know?" Merritt asked, too tired to guard her tongue.
"Know what?" Kingston asked, fishing a pocket watch from his waistcoat.
"That you have a natural-born son."
The duke's gaze remained on Keir. After a charged silence, he said evenly, "I have no secrets from my wife."
"Were you and she married when-" Merritt broke off as Kingston shot her an incredulous glance, his eyes flashing like sunlight striking off silver.
"Good God, Merritt. That you could even ask-"
"Forgive me," she said hastily. "I was only trying to guess his age."
"He's thirty-three. I would never betray Evie." Kingston took in a long breath and let it out slowly, working to bring his temper under control. "I should hope I'd never be so tedious. Adultery is only running away from one problem to create a new one.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“He came to my office in wet clothes, all muscles and smolder. I hardly knew where to look."
"I think you knew exactly where to look," Phoebe said, her light gray eyes sparkling with amusement. "Is he handsome?”
“A stunner. Tall and big-chested, with blue eyes and hair the color of summer wheat. And his accent . . .”
“Irresistible?”
“Oh, yes. There’s something about a Scottish burr that makes it seem as if a man is either about to recite poetry or toss you over his shoulder and carry you away.”
“Maybe both at the same time,” Phoebe said dreamily, sipping her tea.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Keir's attention, however, was fixed not on Kingston, but on the frozen figure by the doorway. "Who's that?" he demanded.
Merritt followed his gaze to Phoebe, whose face was carefully blank. What a shock it must be for her, to be confronted with a man who looked so eerily similar- almost identical- to her father as a young man. "Dear," she said apologetically to Phoebe, "about that story I was telling you... there was a part I hadn't yet reached."
Her friend replied slowly, staring at the duke. "I think perhaps my father should explain it to me."
"I will," Kingston said, giving his daughter a reassuring smile. "Come with me." He ushered her from the room, saying, "We'll leave Merritt with her fiancé."
"What?" came Phoebe's bewildered voice, just before he closed the door.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“After you told me about the shirt cuff, I told you about the time I spilled ink on a map in my father's study."
He shook his head, baffled.
"It was a rare two-hundred-year-old map of the British Isles," Merritt explained. "I'd gone into my father's study to play with a set of inkwell bottles, which I'd been told not to do. But they were such tempting little etched glass bottles, and one of them was filled with the most resplendent shade of emerald green you've ever seen. I dipped a pen in it, and accidentally dribbled some onto the map, which had been spread out on his desk. It made a horrid splotch right in the middle of the Oceanus Germanicus. I was standing there, weeping with shame, when Papa walked in and saw what had happened."
"What did he do?" Keir asked, now looking interested.
"He was quiet at first. Waging a desperate battle with his temper, I'm sure. But then his shoulders relaxed, and he said in a thoughtful tone, 'Merritt, I suspect if you drew some legs on that blotch, it would make an excellent sea monster.' So I added little tentacles and fangs, and I drew a three-masted ship nearby." She paused at the flash of Keir's grin, the one that never failed to make her a bit light-headed. "He had it framed and hung it on the wall over his desk. To this day, he claims it's his favorite work of art."
Amusement tugged at one corner of his mouth. "A good father," he commented.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“He said rich fare might be difficult for you to manage."
Keir snorted at the thought. "Difficult for an Englishman, maybe. But I'm after having for a full Scottish breakfast."
Her dark eyes twinkled. "What does that consist of?"
Unfolding his arms, he settled back against the pillows with a nostalgic sigh. "Bacon, sausage patties, ham, fried eggs, beans, potatoes, scones... and maybe a bit of sweet, like clootie pudding."
Her brows lifted. "All that on one plate?"
"You have to build a mountain of the meat," he explained, "and arrange the rest around it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“When Keir met Kingston at the back of the house, he was glad to discover the family dog, Ajax, was going to join them on the excursion. The boisterous black and tan retriever helped to ease the tension as they walked along the holloway, a narrow sunken lane that had once been an ancient cart path. Slender trees bracketed the high banks on either side, forming a delicate canopy overhead.
Casually Kingston said, "You mentioned you have a dog. What breed?"
"A drop-eared Skye terrier. A good rabbiter.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Keir had watched him with growing interest, having assumed Kingston would toss the unlucky crab aside, maybe fling it toward the sea. Any of Keir's friends would have thought nothing of chucking it into the path of a foraging herring gull. But to show consideration for an insignificant beastie... take the trouble to carry it to a safe place... it revealed something wholly unexpected about the man's character. A regard for the fragile, the vulnerable.
Now Keir wasn't sure what to make of Kingston. An aristocrat of staggering wealth and position, notorious for his decadent past... a devoted father and faithful husband... there seemed no way to reconcile those two versions of him. And here was yet another version, a man lounging casually next to a fire on the beach with his dog, his bare feet dusted with sand, as if he were an ordinary human.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“And I think he may have a notion of turning a rough diamond into a polished stone."
"But you don't want to be polished?" Merritt asked gently.
"I'm no' a diamond in the first place."
She smiled as she went to him. "I disagree on that point." An earthy but appealing mixture of scents clung to him, smoke, sea air, a hint of wet dog, the sweet tang of whisky on his breath.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Mr. Keir MacRae Lady Merritt Sterling


The names had been typed... but why?... what for?...
Bits and pieces of memory whirled in his head... thoughts wheeling just beyond reach. As he struggled blindly to catch hold of something, make sense of the tumult, he heard Merritt's voice... stay for one night just one... and there was the smell of rain and the cool darkness of night, and the warmth of a bed... the tender plump curves of a woman's breasts, and the hot clasp of her body pulling at him, squeezing in voluptuous pulsation, and the sweet, wracking culmination as she cried out his name. And there was the sight of her in candlelight, flames dancing in guttering pools of wax, catching glimmers from her eyes, hair, skin... and the glorious freedom of yielding everything, telling her everything, while inexhaustible delight welled around them. And the despair of leaving, the physical pain of putting distance between them, the sensation of being pulled below the surface of the sea, looking up from airless depths to an unreachable sky. Lady Merritt's fingertips pressing a typewriter key. Tap. Tap. Tiny metal rods flicked at a spool of inked ribbon, and letters emerged.
Keir was panting now, clutching the slip of paper, while his brain sorted and spun, and pin tumblers aligned, a key turned, and something unlocked.
"Merry," he said aloud, his voice unsteady. "My God... Merry.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Her hands groped around his neck, her fingers lacing through the thick shorn locks at the back of his head. The hard, clean contours of Keir's face rubbed against hers, a different feeling than the coarse tickle of his beard. But the mouth was the same, full and erotic, searingly hot. He consumed her slowly, searching with his tongue, licking deep into each kiss. Wild quivers of pleasure went through her, weakening her knees until she had to lean against him to stay upright. As her head tilted back, a forgotten tear slid from the outer corner of her eye to the edge of her hairline. His lips followed the salty track, absorbing the taste.
Keir cradled her cheek in his hand, his shaken whisper falling hotly against her mouth. "Merry, love... my heart's gleam, drop of my dearest blood... you should have told me."
Merritt heard her own weak reply as if from a distance. "I thought... in some part of your mind... you might have wanted to forget."
"No." Keir crushed her close, nuzzling her hard against her hair and disheveling the pinned-up coils. "Never, love. The memory slipped out of reach for a moment, is all." His hand coasted slowly up and down her spine. "I'm so damned sorry for the way I've been trying to keep you at a distance. I dinna know you were already inside my heart." He paused before adding wryly, "Mind, I did have to jump from a three-story window, with little to break the fall but my own hard head." Taking one of her hands, he pressed her palm over his pounding heartbeat. "But you were still in here. Your name is carved so deep, a million years could no' erase it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Keir," she managed to say, "we must be careful not to confuse the physical act with deeper feelings."
He drew back to look down at her with a frown. "I dinna mean when we fooked."
Merritt flinched as if he'd just dashed cold water in her face. "For heaven's sake, please don't put it that way."
His brows lifted slightly at her vehemence. "How should I say it, then?"
After sorting through various possibilities, she suggested, "Sleeping together."
Keir looked sardonic. "Neither of us slept a wink."
"Then... 'when we had relations.'"
He snorted, obviously loathing that suggestion. "My word means the same thing, and 'tis shorter.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“But what's to be done now?"
We’ll come to the right decision, you and I. Later. For now . . . let’s go to bed.”
Her eyes flew open. She gave him a dumbfounded look. “Here? Now?”
“My arms ache to hold you,” he said. “No’ just for a little while. For a long time.”
“Oh, I don’t think . . .” Floundering, Merritt lowered her forehead to his shoulder. “It wouldn’t solve any problems.”
He made a sound of amusement in his throat. “It would solve at least one of mine.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“The woman crossed the beach toward him with an easy, energetic stride. As she approached, he saw she was beautiful, with heavy dark hair, an oval face, and merry brown eyes. She was an elongated, less bosomy version of Merritt, as if someone had carefully stretched her about five inches north and south.
Lady Westcliff, he thought, and a blaze of embarrassment raced over him.
"Is that a signal fire?" she called out in a breezy manner, her accent distinctly American. "Are you in need of a rescue?" She had Merritt's smile, the one that started with a little crinkle of her nose and made her eyes tip-tilted.
Keir's trepidation began to fade. "Aye," he said, "but I'm no' sure what from yet.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“He caught her wrist and looked at her with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Lass, if you're after calming me by stroking me with your wee hand... 'tis having the opposite effect. You'd better stop if you dinna want to be ravished right here on the beach."
Merritt crinkled her nose and laughed. "You wouldn't do that," she said. "Not out in the open."
Keir dragged her hand down his body to the hard, aroused ridge behind the front placket of his trousers. "There's something you need to learn about Scotsmen," he said. "We never back down from a challenge.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“He was especially charmed by the two youngest Challons, Ivo and Seraphina, both of them engaging and warm, but also possessing their father's knack for a perfectly timed witticism- a bon mot, Merritt called it.
They asked countless questions about Islay, his friends, his dog, and the distillery, and they entertained him with stories of their own. To Keir's relief, neither of them seemed to have difficulty accepting him as a half brother, despite the vast differences in their ages. They had been brought up in an environment filled with so much abundance, it didn't occur to them to feel threatened by anyone.
The Challons were nothing like the noble families Keir had heard of, in which the children were raised mostly by servants and seldom saw their parents. These people were close and openly affectionate, with no trace of aristocratic stuffiness. Keir thought that was in no small part due to the duchess, who made no pretense about the fact that her father had made his start as a professional boxer. Evie was the anchor who kept the family from drifting too far in the dizzying altitude of their social position. It was at her insistence that the children had at least a passing acquaintance with ordinary life. For example, it was one of Ivo's chores to wash the dog, and Seraphina sometimes accompanied the cook to market to talk with local tradespeople.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Staring down at the terrier, Keir asked softly, "What do you think, Wallace? She's one to be keepit, aye?"
The long, silky tail fanned vigorously from side to side.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Let's no' make this langsome, MacTaggart. Lady Merritt is weary, and as you know, I'm no' one to stand on ceremony."
"'Tis a haisty affair, aye?" the sheriff observed, some of his good cheer fading as he looked around the room. "No flowers? No candles?"
"No, and also no ring," Keir informed him. "Let us say our pledge, give us the certificate, and we'll have done with it in time for supper."
MacTaggart clearly didn't appreciate the younger man's cavalier attitude. "You'll be having no signed paper until I make certain 'tis done legal," he said, squaring his shoulders. "First... do ye ken there's a fine if you've no' posted banns?"
"'Tis no' a church wedding," Keir said.
"The law says without the banns, 'tis a fine of fifty pounds." As Keir gave him an outraged glance, the sheriff added firmly, "No exceptions."
"What if I give you a bottle of whisky?" Keir asked.
"Fine is waived," MacTaggart said promptly. "Now, then... do the rest of you agree to stand as witnesses?"
Ethan and the Slorachs all nodded.
"I'll start, then," Keir said briskly, and took Merritt's hand. "I, Keir MacRae, do swear that I--"
"No' yet," the sheriff interrupted, now scowling. "'Tis my obligation to ask a few questions first."
"MacTaggart, so help me---" Keir began in annoyance, but Merritt squeezed his hand gently. He heaved a sigh and clamped his mouth shut.
The sheriff resumed with great dignity. "Are the both of you agreeable to be wed?"
"Aye," Keir said acidly.
"Yes," Merritt replied.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise