“You didn’t read it?” Emelie asked, stunned.
“Of course not. Laird Dunbar didn’t address it to me, nor did you offer it to me,” Dominic answered indignantly.
“You found a lone woman in hysterics, and you didn’t read the missive to learn why,” Emelia stated, incredulous that he hadn’t been nosy.
“Whatever caused you such upset is none of my business. I was more concerned that you were safe and would recover. And you were not in hysterics.” Dominic was emphatic about his last statement. He’d spent three years married to a woman given to histrionics. The woman beside him didn’t remind him of Colina in the least.
“That is kind of you to say. Most men wouldn’t agree with you—” Emelie snapped her mouth shut. She was certain no one had ever introduced her to the man, but she had a sound idea who he was. “Are you Laird Campbell’s kin?”
“I am. I’m his younger brother and tánaiste. I’m Dominic. How did you ken?” A twinge of his Highland burr slipped out.
“You and Laird Campbell bear a striking resemblance in your face. My friend Laurel is now Lady Campbell. I suppose that makes her your sister-by-marriage.”
“Aye. Laurel is my sister.” Dominic’s smile was genuine, and Emelie didn’t miss that he added no qualifier. The man was fond of the woman his brother married. Her eye twitched, and Dominic chuckled. “I know she wasn’t popular at court, but she’s the kindest and most generous woman I know. That isn’t to say she doesn’t have strong opinions, nor does she fear sharing them with me or my brother. But she’s not the ogre her reputation made her out to be.”
“She isn’t. She was a woman misunderstood and unappreciated.”
“You were her friend.”
Emelie nodded. There didn’t seem to be much more to say on the matter since they agreed. She reached for the parchment Dominic held and folded it before tucking it into a hidden pocket. She attempted a smile, but she knew it was unconvincing.
“Thank you for your kindness, Dominic.” Emelie liked the sound of the braw Highlander’s name. This time her smile was genuine until she realized she’d been even ruder than she thought. “I apologize. I didn’t introduce myself. Actually, I apologize for several things, but I should have said my name is Emelie Dunbar.”
Dominic grinned. “Laurel has mentioned you. I wondered if you were Emelie or Blythe.” At Emelie’s furrowed brow, he pointed to where the missive hid in her pocket. “I saw the insignia. I just didn’t know which sister you were.”
A breeze rustled the leaves surrounding them, and it made Emelie look around, noticing for the first time just how secluded their spot was. She didn’t fear Dominic in the least. But she knew it would destroy her reputation, and they’d find themselves betrothed, if anyone found them alone together.
“Should I accompany you to the edge of the garden?” Dominic offered, sensing what caused her unease.
“Thank you, but I need some more time alone.” Emelie hoped she didn’t sound ungracious after the comfort he offered when she feared she would fracture into shards.
“Is it safe to be alone out here? I confused you for a lost child.” Dominic slammed his mouth shut as he realized the insult he’d just unintentionally doled out.
“Fear not. You are hardly the first and certainly not the last.” Emelie attempted to infuse mirth into her tone, but she heard it fall flat.
“I’m sorry. I did not say that well. I wouldn’t want anyone to intrude, believing you needed returning to someone.” Dominic grimaced. “Bluidy hell. That didn’t sound any better. I didn’t mean to say you were a pet or a horse.Christ.”Dominic winced at his curse. He glanced up at heaven before looking at Emelie, who playfully leaned away.
“I hope the lightning only strikes you,” Emelie teased. “And I understood what you meant from the beginning. You’ve been exceedingly kind to me. Thank you.” Emelie hoped sharing her appreciation would signal an end to their conversation. Dominic nodded before standing. He reached for her hand and bent over it.
“I am glad I could help, little that I did.”
“Dominic—” Emelie waited for him to turn back to her as he stepped away. She blushed at the informality. “You did far more than you realize. Please know that I appreciate it.”
“I do, my lady. Good day.” Dominic turned away and made his way to a hedge he’d passed as he hurried to Emelie’s side. He stepped around it but went no further. He’d mis-stepped several times with his words, so he hadn’t pressed her about being an unchaperoned young woman alone in the garden. It was hardly safe, and she was fortunate that he’d stumbled upon her and not someone who would have taken advantage of her. He hid behind the bush, a self-appointed sentry.
Emelie knew Dominic hid out of her sight but remained nearby. She wanted to tell him that his protection was unneeded, but she also recognized his wisdom. She’d been oblivious to his approach, and she hadn’t considered the danger she’d risked by being alone so far into the garden. She appreciated the privacy, but she wondered what manner of man would be so considerate to a stranger and then waste his time milling around while that stranger sat on a bench.
Mayhap it’s because he’s a Highlander. They’re different from Lowlanders for certain. Strong and silent isn’t an exaggeration. And he’s sinfully handsome. I even noticed that despite being a watering pot. I’ve never felt such strength. I mean, I know I could stand to gain a stone or three, so it was no struggle for him to lift me.
Bluidy hell!! He had to lift me onto the bench. One more thing to add to my humiliation. But it wasn’t that. It was the strength I felt in his arm and his chest. He could crush me, yet you would think he was holding a bairn the way he was so gentle with me.
He’s a mountain of a mon. He couldn’t be more different from Henry. I thought Henry was so debonair. He’s hardly going to pot, but he definitely isn’t as sturdy as Dominic. I don’t know that I’d ever feel so protected by Henry if he merely wrapped an arm around me. Not that any of that matters now.
Bluidy bleeding hell with the Devil on a cross! The bastard is married. And a moon ago. He was telling me he would marry me. He coupled with me. He was already bluidy well married. Ugh. I’m naught more than a harlot. I helped him commit adultery.
Though…I suddenly have an overwhelming sense that I’m not the only one who’s done that. I even doubt I’m the first woman he tupped who wasn’t his wife. Bastard.
What the devil am I going to do?
