“You had no right to kiss me!” Elizabeth said indignantly. What else was there to say in defense of herself? To her mortification she had kissed him back.
“No, I didn’t,” he answered calmly, “but I did.”
“Do you always do just what you want?” she demanded. Her lips were tingling with the memory of his mouth on hers.
“Nay, I don’t, but I found myself unable to resist you,” he said with absolute and ingenuous charm. “You are very beautiful, Elizabeth Meredith,” Baen told her, reaching up to caress the line of her jaw with the knuckle of his forefinger.
“Was I better this time?” she queried him.
“Much better,” he told her with a grin.
“Good! Then we don’t have to kiss again,” she said in a firm tone. “Now I know how to kiss should the spirit move me to kiss, sir.”
Standing up, he burst out laughing. “Do you think that is all there is to it?”
“What more could there possibly be, sir?”
“There is cuddling,” he murmured seductively.
“Sit down at the board, and the servants will bring you your breakfast, Baen MacColl,” Elizabeth instructed him. “We have much to do this day. As for cuddling, put it from your mind. The kissing was bold enough, and I am no fool. More kissing leads to cuddling, and cuddling leads to coupling. I will not permit my virtue to be tampered with by any man, let alone a villainous Scots Highlander. Send Albert for me when you are ready to ride,” she said, and then, rising from her chair, she left the hall.
Baen MacColl grinned after her, and then sat down at the high board to break his fast. What the hell was the matter with him? Why was he behaving like such a fool? The girl was an heiress, and not for the likes of him. Still, he had wanted to touch her blond hair. It would be soft, and it was clean.Shewas clean, smelling of clover and freshly scythed grass. He had grown dizzy those few moments he had held her. He dug his spoon into the trencher of hot oats. He had to control himself, he thought grimly.
From his place in the shadows, Thomas Bolton had watched the scene between Elizabeth and Baen play out. He had considered at one point that he might have to intervene, but Elizabeth had obviously been quite capable of managing the randy young Scot without his help. The knowledge pleased Lord Cambridge greatly, for she would undoubtedly be forced to defuse similar situations at court in defense of her honor. He was delighted to find she was not easily flustered by a gentleman’s attention. Not that Baen MacColl was a gentleman. Elizabeth had been right: He was a bold man.
“Good morning, dear boy!” Thomas Bolton pretended to have just entered the hall. “You slept well? I find these quiet winter nights quite conducive to slumber, don’t you?” He waved away a servant. “No! No! I have already eaten.” Then, turning back to the Scot, he asked, “And what plans has my adorable girl for you today, sir?”
“I believe we are to ride out to inspect some flocks in the far meadows,” Baen answered the older man. “Would you ride with us, my lord?”
“God’s boots, dear boy, nay! I know these late-winter days as the spring approaches. The sun may shine warm on one’s back, but the damp cuts into your very bones. Riding in such weather is not for a man of my years,” Lord Cambridge declared vehemently.
“Yet you will ride south in the rain,” Baen MacColl said.
“Do not remind me, dear boy,” Thomas Bolton replied with a shudder. “Only for Rosamund or her daughters would I make what is sure to be a most uncomfortable journey. However, at journey’s end we shall arrive at court for the month of May, which is always delightful. May is the king’s favorite month. Every day is a celebration filled with games and amusements and feasting. We will be at Greenwich, which is beautiful. You have never been south, have you, dear boy?”
“Friarsgate is as far south as I have ever been,” Baen MacColl answered.
“Master MacColl, the mistress has said you are to meet her at the kennels immediately,” Albert said as he came upon the two men.
“The kennels?” Lord Cambridge looked curious.
“Elizabeth has said I am to have one of the Shetland pups. I suppose she wants me to see it,” Baen replied. He arose from the board, bowing to Lord Cambridge. “You will excuse me, my lord.” Then he hurried from the hall.
He found Elizabeth surrounded by several dogs of various lineages, all of whom obviously adored her. She was holding a rather large puppy. It had silky black and white fur. “Do you like him?” she said. “He’s the biggest of Flora’s litter. She’s Tam’s dog, and he has already begun to work with this youngster. What will you name him?”
“I never had a dog of my own,” Baen said slowly. “I think I shall call him Friar, for Friarsgate. The way his head is marked he reminds me of one of those traveling religious, don’t you think?” He reached out and let the pup sniff his hand. Then he patted the dog. “We’re going to be good friends, Friar,” he said.
“We’ll take him with us today,” Elizabeth said. “Come on! The horses should be waiting by now. I gave instructions before I came to the kennels.”
“He’s too little to run with the horses,” Baen protested.
“I know,” Elizabeth said. “You can lay him across your saddle. He has to get used to you, your scent, and the sound of your voice. Tam will continue his training, and when Friar has learned the basics you will join them. He’s going to be your dog, and should obey you first and foremost.”
They rode out, and he again thought how perfectly in tune with her lands and her animals she was. The horses picked their way carefully through the thawing meadows where the ground could be muddy and soft or hard and icy, depending on the angle of the sun. The sheepfolds near the outlying barns were filled with bleating, woolly creatures. Baen decided that he did indeed like the Shropshires and the cheviots best. They were hardy beasts who could easily survive a Highland winter.
The puppy lying across his saddle before him had at first protested being removed from his mother and his siblings. But he quickly quieted down, and after a few miles closed his warm brown eyes and fell asleep, snoring softly, to Baen’s amusement. In one meadow a small herd of sheep had been allowed to roam free. He and Elizabeth stopped, dismounted, and went to inspect the animals. Friar romped noisily, yapping at their feet, and then suddenly he began to nip at the heels of a ewe, instinctively herding the creature.
“Oh,” Elizabeth said, “he’s going to be very good. He has hardly begun his lessons yet, and look at him.” She laughed as the ewe protested noisily at being forced to move along by the young pup. Kneeling next to the sheep, Elizabeth pushed her fingers into the wool. “See,” she invited him, “how thick her coat is, Baen. When she is sheared, you will gain a nice harvest of wool from a sheep like this.”
