They locked eyes and he gave the barest nod. “It seems tae me,” he said, stepping a fraction closer, “that’s exactly what ye’ve been given. An entire summer in Scotland without them.”
“But they expect—”
“The devil take their expectations.” He leaned forward, hand on the horse’s neck, a V forming between his brows. “Ye’ll forgive me for speaking my mind, Miss Hughes, but I spent most of my youth in English schools where my teachers tried relentlessly tae mold me into an English lad. Tae change myaccent, my opinions, and my attitudes tae conform tae their ideal.” He shook his head.
“Do ye know the only time I was truly able tae escape? To throw off the weight of their expectations? When I didn’t have tae fight tae keep what they were trying so hard tae take from me?” He swallowed hard. “My summers at home in Scotland. This place became my refuge.”
It was the strangest moment. Not two minutes ago, Arabella would have said the two of them were enemies. Adversaries. Opposites. Now she wasn’t so sure. Would an enemy share something so private, so deeply held? Would he bare such insight into his past, the very threads of the tapestry that made up his whole? Could she and he really be so different when he seemed to instinctively understand the battle she’d been fighting all her life?
Earnestness filled Mr. McKenzie’s expression—in the set of his jaw and the slant of his brow. “There is something here. I cannot put it intae words, exactly. But there is a wild sort of freedom here, one that will make ye examine who ye are and who ye wish tae be. And that...thatis the Scotland I’d have ye know.”
His voice softened to a plea. “So take your summer, Miss Hughes. Take the time ye’ve been given. ’Tis not a punishment but agift. A chance. And from the sounds of it, one ye’ll likely not have again.”
He was right. Her parents had already begun to make arrangements, the plans that would decide her future. She’d be married by the end of next Season.
But somehow that made what Mr. McKenzie was asking all the more futile.
Her teeth began to chatter again, not from cold this time but from fear. “I—I’ll have to think on it. It’s only...I don’t know if I can.” She looked up, away. Anywhere but in his eyes. “You probably think me a coward, Mr. McKenzie.”
His chest was near her thigh, and she could feel the warmth coming off his body. Feel the magnetism that forced her to meet his gaze. “Since our first meeting, Miss Hughes, I’ve thought of many words that might be used tae describe ye.” His jaw tightened. “But not coward. Never a coward.”
Arabella could scarcely breathe. She was caught off guard by the realization of how much she cared to have Mr. McKenzie’s good opinion.
He leaned closer, his eyes locked on hers, their rich green depths churning with brown and gold and gray like a summer storm. “I dare ye not tae take it. Tae look back in years tae come, when ye’re the auld woman ye’re afeart of becoming. And still be holding on to the regret of the opportunity ye let pass by.”
A taunt.
A challenge.
It was too much, all at once.
Contemplating freedom when all she’d ever known was a cage.
Considering recklessness when all she’d ever shown was restraint.
On impulse, she grabbed at the reins, forcing the horse to step backward, away from Mr. McKenzie.
“What are ye—”
She tugged harder, urging the horse to put a little distance between them. “I’m sorry. I need time to think.”
“Think all ye want,” he said, stepping forward slowly, hands outstretched as if approaching a skittish colt. “But that is no reason tae steal my horse.” He lunged forward. “Ye cannae just—”
She guided Baird to the left, easily sidestepping Mr. McKenzie. “Cannot just what?” The horse pranced impatiently, but she held the reins firmly. “Abandon you and leaveyou to find your own way home?” She cocked her head. “I daresay I would be leaving you under better conditions than you left me. It isn’t raining, after all.”
Mr. McKenzie nodded, long and slow. “’Tis a fair point ye make, Miss Hughes. But I did just rescue ye.” He took a step toward her. Then another. When he was within three feet of her, he stopped, setting his hands on his hips. “Could we not simply put the past behind us?”
“Allow me to set the record straight, Mr. McKenzie.” It was a heady feeling to have the upper hand for once. “I find I do not mind occupying a boat with you. And I may, at some point, be forced to reconsider my stance on joining you in a carriage.”
He nodded, mouth lifting in the beginnings of a smile.
Arabella leaned forward, face perfectly grave. “But I can say without hesitation that I will never,evershare a horse with you.”
Mr. McKenzie tried to grab the reins, but she was too fast. She kicked forward, even as he gave chase, bending low over the saddle as the horse began to gallop, wind whipping at her wet things as she headed up the hill toward home.
GAVIN SPRINTED HARD, but it was no use. He slowed, growling in frustration. “Minx!” he called after her, hands cupped around his mouth. “When I come for dinner tomorrow, I’ll expect your answer!Andmy horse!”
The only reply was the flapping of the coat—hiscoat—in the wind, billowing out behind her.
