“Hmm . . . you make this position sound most appealing.”
“You have witnessed me at my worst this week. But I feel that—around you—I might be able to return to my best again. I might reclaim the man I once was.” He held her hands tight, awaiting her answer.
Beatrice breathed in deeply, striving to slow her speeding heart and to keep herself from reeling with the sudden giddiness that threatened her composure. He was beingentirely serious, and here she felt like laughing with joy. “Youareperhaps the most stubborn man I have ever met. And your arrogance...”
“Iknow.” He groaned. “Perhaps you will be able to teach me some manners as well.”
“Perhaps.”
“So you agree?”
His tone was so hopeful that she had little choice. “Yes.” She laughed. “I will stay as your assistant.
“Splendid!” He released her and collapsed back upon his seat as if exhausted, though a smile lit his face. “Your first assignment is to accompany me on a picnic on the shores of the River Ness. We’ll eat before beginning our shopping on High Street. It will be up to you to see that I remain presentable.”
A picnic. Exploring a new city. Shopping.All of it with Lord Hughes. She could hardly believe it was true. But it was.
MISS WORTHINGTON GRIPPED the handles on Theodore’s wheelchair and forged on, over the grassy knoll toward the ruin of Urquhart Castle. “The ground here is so strange. Every step I feel almost as if I will sink, but then it springs me back up again.”
“Unfortunately, my chair does not react to Scotland’s moist soil quite so well.” He grimaced as his hands pushed against the wheels, attempting to move them forward. “I should have waited in the carriage. You would be able to enjoy the views much better without me.”
“Without my tour guide? I think not. You’ve yet to tell me the history of this castle. That is the price for my diligence”—she gave his chair a mighty shove and it rolled forward again—“in getting you up this slope.”
“I believe ice cream would be an appropriate reward as well,” he said, recalling her fondness for the treat on their excursion to Inverness.
“I believe I feel stronger already.”
They trudged on until Miss Worthington proclaimed that they had come as far as they were able without her fearing for his life. “The ground is terribly uneven and slopes the other direction. I would not like to have to fetch you out of the lake.”
“Loch,” he corrected in an overexaggerated Scottish accent. “When inScotland—”
“Speak as the Scots,” she finished. “LochNess is the prettiest loch I’ve seen, and we passed ever so many on the journey from Edinburgh.”
“Describe it to me.” He requested such things of her frequently and appreciated that she saw the world—or at least this corner of it—through a wide lens of wonder and appreciation. She had a way with words that painted a picture so vividly that he hardly felt cheated having his eyes covered.
“The water is the deepest blue, making the loch appear both bottomless and mysterious.”
He nodded. “They say it has more water in it than all the other lakes in Scotland and England combined. And, of course, there is the ancient monster said to lurk there.”
“It looks as if it might hold such a creature.” She sounded breathless, as if overcome by the possibility. “The hills surrounding the loch are as bright a green as I’ve ever seen and slope down to the edge and then simply disappear beneath the water as if they are the tops of grand mountains, rising from its depths. There is little shore, at least that I can see from here.”
Theodore smiled, picturing it.
“The sky is a mysterious grey today, dark and brooding, as if guarding a mystery that we cannot see. It is the whole of it—the sky, green hills, and deep blue of the lake—that make it so very lovely.”
“Tell me of the castle now,” he said.
Still keeping a firm grip on his chair, she moved slightly. “Urquhart looks to have been made up of several parts as if there were many different outbuildings. Or perhaps it once was whole, and these piles of stone are all that is left, the rest having been eroded entirely.”
“A bit of both, I believe,” Theodore said. “It dates to the thirteenth century—as do many other castles still standing. It’s our ancestors’ fault that Urquhart is a ruin. The English laidwaste to it in the late 1600s to prevent the Jacobites from using it.”
“That is a tragedy,” Miss Worthington said, her voice wistful. “It would have been a lovely place to live. I think I should have done little else but sit in one of the windows and stare outside at the loch all day, had it been my home. At least there is still a tower.”
“You should walk down to it,” Theodore said. “Leave me here and take a few minutes for yourself to explore.” What he would have given to have been able to go with her, to run down the hill and scramble over the stones.Someday.By summer’s end, would he at least be able to walk with her in the garden? Thus far, his progress had been slow—much slower than he had anticipated.
At least I will be able to see her by summer’s end.He hoped. But what if the result of last month’s eye surgery was not what he wished? It was strange talking with Miss Worthington and not being able to put a face to her voice. That he had no reference point, no idea at all what she might look like, bothered him even more than not being able to walk with her.
“I think I shall just view the castle from here,” she said. “I don’t wish to see the destruction up close. It is tragic what men do to one another and the land in times of war.”
