Lips that had just gone ominously flat.
“Speaking of fools. Malcolm Campbell, your horse-thieving days are over.” Her brow set in a hard line, eyes sparking. “I should have spoken up the first time. I won’t let you put any of us through this again. You are much too valuable. I know it is important to you, but it is not worth yourlife.”
“You best listen to the lady, Mallie. I know this gives you purpose. But you do no one, horses or people alike, any good if you’re dead.”
“And I spoke with Freddy. He is extremely displeased—”
“Och, aye!” He lifted his hands in surrender. He glanced between the two, still glaring daggers at him. “Aye, Lydia. Aye, Port. My raiding days are over.” He turned to Lydia, his words turning as soft as his heart. “My life has purpose in a different way now. ‘Tis too great a treasure to risk.”
A throat cleared in the doorway. “If I may be so bold…” The Duke’s low baritone filled the room, and Malcolm’s gaze snapped to his. “If you ever hear of such instances in the future—ones that would have led to these raids—perhaps you could inform me. There may be things I can do with my influence. And it would allow for you to continue helping those horses.” His gaze flitted to Lydia and back. “Without risking so much.”
“Aye, Your Grace. I would gladly send word your way.”
“Excellent. The doctor just arrived and will be down momentarily. I am glad to see you’re awake and well, Mr. Campbell.” With a clipped nod, he turned to leave.
“Your Grace?” Malcolm called after him. The Duke paused, glancing over his shoulder.
“The stallion… How does he fair?”
The Duke’s stern expression eased, his lips curving faintly. “Well. Safe now. He has a long road ahead of him, but he’s in good hands here.” His gaze lingered for a moment. “I respect a man who protects those unable to protect themselves, Mr. Campbell.”
And with that, he left.
The man may be young—och, over a decade younger than Malcolm—but he was every inch a duke.
“All right, let’s have this doctor look you over, Mallie,” Porter said. “I think it’s about time we get you and your Countess home.”
“Aye,” he murmured, catching Lydia’s tired gaze. “Home.”
25
Mal
“Areyousurethisis all right, lass?”
Lydia tugged on his hand, guiding him into her bedchamber. His eyes roamed the towering ceilings, easily twice his height, with intricate white wood molding adorning the walls. Then his gaze landed on the massive bed, shrouded in pale moss green curtains, dominating the space between two large arched windows. A bed that could fit an entire clan of Scotsmen—perhaps a slight exaggeration, but it wasenormous.
Malcolm was out of place here. He was terrified he’d break something more valuable than his annual wage. And he felt almost…clumsy, unrefined, surrounded by such elegance and luxury.
“I didn’t hear you complaining when you were in the bath.” Lydia winged a thin, blonde brow.
A groan vibrated in his chest like a happy cat. That bath had been glorious. He’d never washed in a tub he could actually fit in. If he wanted to fit in a bath…he bathed in the pond on the estate. And that water, even during the warmest months, was never steaming hot. His eyes slid shut. He hadn’t wanted to get out. That was until Lydia started touching him. Then it wasn’t just the water that was scalding.
“Come. Let’s get you in bed, love. You need to rest. To heal,” Lydia murmured, leading him to what was sure to be the softest bed he’d ever lain in.
A smile pulled at his lips. She was determined in her care of him—just as she had been during his bath. Washing his hair, especially gentle around his head wound, delicately washing over his bruised ribs—which had a lovely hoof print adorning the right side. She’d blushed profusely and handed him a cloth to wash theotherareas. She was bloody adorable. But to be cared for so tenderly? It turned his insides lighter than air, his heart floating around like a happy cloud in his chest.
She’d insisted he needed a proper bath, his wounds cleaned thoroughly, that the soak in heated water would ease his aches. And, aye, they had, though they’d started up another ache that now needed tending to.
Malcolm couldn’t believe the Earl had granted such an allowance. Hadinsistedupon it. And that was even in the face of the man’s ire. Lydia hadn’t been lying at Devonford Castle—Lord Bentley had been highly displeased about Malcolm’sactivities. The Earldom of Bentley’s reputation was everything to the Earl, and that extended down to his servants. And now that Malcolm would be family, an essential piece of Lydia’s happiness, it was evermore important.
Family.
That statement had stunned Malcolm so thoroughly his vocal cords had refused to cooperate, and the flood of feelings had been too much. He’d completely fallen apart and wept in front of the man in the most mortifying of fashions. What could he say? Scotsmen were built so big and broad because their bodies needed to house their large hearts.
And then Lord Bentley demanded Malcolm use the master chamber’s bathing room and stay the night in Lydia’s suite of rooms. He had set up forts of blankets in the library and arranged for games and treats for the children, ensuring Lydia and Malcolm would be safe from prying eyes.
It was clear that Lydia’s happiness was as important to the Earl as it was to Malcolm. And Malcolm made Lydia happy, so the Earl would do everything he could to ease their way.
