“Rest assured, if it’s an area in which my parents believe ayoung woman should be proficient, I am more than accomplished. Dancing, painting, music, riding, needlework.” She said it without conceit, stating a fact rather than bragging. The wind was at their backs, blowing some of Arabella’s curls into her face, and she used one hand to brush her hair back behind her ear.
“Languages?” he asked.
She looked heavenward as if making a mental list. “French. Italian. And a fair bit of Latin.”
“But not Scottish,” he teased.
She held back a laugh, but barely. “I’m learning, ye walloper. Bampot. Eejit.”
“A little too well, I think.” He chuckled. “Though as I recall, insults have always come quite naturally tae ye.”
Her mouth twisted into a smirk. “Only whereyouare concerned.”
He shook his head. “I’ve never quite been able tae understand what ye have against me. That day we met at the inn I was only protecting ye from brutes and savages.”
She laughed. “Your nobleness astounds, Gavin Alexander McKenzie.”
“I see your grandmother has been telling stories about me.”
“She has,” Arabella acknowledged. “Knowing all that I do, it’s quite shocking that I’ve agreed to be seen in the company of a man like you.” The cliffside descended, giving way to more even terrain.
He sighed heavily. “Nan told ye about the time I stole the collection plate, I take it?”
Arabella nodded. “And about the time you tried to hold up a carriage like a highwayman.”
He shrugged. “Turns out that was a profession that didn’t suit me.”
“Andabout the time you set her stables on fire.”
“A stroke of misfortune.”
“Alargestroke, it seems. It sounds as if your parents allowed you to run completely wild.” She shook her head. Such a thing was probably unfathomable to her.
“I’m not so sure ’twas a matter ofallowing. More that, as a young lad, I was unstoppable. But yes, I was given a great deal of freedom during my summers home.”
“That’s right. You spent the other parts of the year at school in England.”
He nodded. “Eton. And then Cambridge.”
“I remember,” she said quietly. “Did you hate every moment of it?”
“Of school?” He considered the question. “I did. At first. I was teased about my accent quite mercilessly. Boys that age...they can be quite cruel.” He led Baird down a path where long grass gave way to soft white sand.
She followed him, guiding Willow down onto the beach. Arabella brought her horse up alongside Gavin and they rode together in silence for several minutes, save for the rhythmic sounds of the waves as they pounded the shore.
When he glanced over at her, a groove had formed between her brows. “Why were your parents so intent on sending you to school in England if you hated it so much?”
He looked down the shoreline. “That was the doing of my mother. A wise woman. She was a lowlander and a widow. She’d been married to an Englishman before my father and knew plenty about the prejudices that existed against Scots.
“And because she never wanted me tae feel less than, she decided I would be educated as well as any Englishman’s son. And I was. And aye, while it was hard at first, I made friends—loyal friends who didn’t care about my background or heritage. And my education, my experience, has served me well. I’m grateful for it now.”
Gavin squinted against the rays of sun sparkling off the ocean.
“You love your mother very much,” she said softly. It was a statement. An observation.
“I do.” He cleared his throat. “I did. I loved both of my parents. My father was the kindest, most tender soul ye’d ever meet. A gentle giant.” His mouth curved in a sad smile. “And perhaps a little too forgiving of his ramshackle son.”
“They’re...” She blinked. “Gone? Both of them?” Arabella pulled her horse up abruptly.
