“Just a moment!” she replied, crouching down even further to examine the delicate plant, with purple petals defying the chill of winter.
“They are like that every winter. They bloom every season. They are rare, and I believe I’ve only seen them in my estate,” he hoped providing information would get her back on her horse.
“Fascinating,” Cecilia’s eyes were wide with wonder.
Alistair, for a moment, got lost in watching her, feeling surprised at such genuine fascination on her face.
He felt frustrated and confused as he got off his horse and approached where she was crouched, “We’re on a hunt, Miss Everton. That plant isn’t going anywhere,” he said, trying to mask the way her fascination drew him in.
“Maybe I’d rather get lost in nature than chase after a wild deer that’s never done me any harm ,” Cecilia rolled her eyes, the contrast between her sharp tongue and delicate movements and features lifting the corners of Alistair’s lips slightly.
“Truly, I do not know how you can be so fascinated by a flower when there’s a stag to catch,” he muttered, trying to mask the interest building within him.
She glanced up, her green eyes sparkling with annoyance. “It’s not just a flower, Your Grace. It’s a rare winter bloom! And besides, I mainly came on this hunt to explore nature, not just chase after some innocent animal.”
“Then perhaps you should have stayed back at the estate, you could have come another time, when your brothers are free enough to properly watch over you,” he shot back, feeling another rush of frustration.
Cecilia stood up, brushing her hands on her trousers, her expression fierce. “What now? You find me problematic for appreciating the beauty around us? It’s winter, Your Grace! Nature doesn’t stop just because men are focused on hunts. My brothers are mostly busy.”
His chest tightened at her words. He’d never had a woman so quick with counters at him. He doubted he’d ever get used to it. “You’re no doubt just—” he paused, struggling to articulate his thoughts. “You’re not taking this seriously. You cannot see how dangerous this could be for you.”
“Perhaps you could learn to relax a little, Your Grace. Life is not always on the ready to attack you,” she replied, crossing her arms defiantly. The way she stood, chin raised and eyes locked onto his, made it impossible for him to look away.
“I’m not threatened by anything in life, it is certainly not for myself I find worry,” he retorted, narrowing his eyes.
Cecilia’s laughter rang out, a melody in the stillness of the woods. “And then, who might it be that you worry for, Your Grace?”
You.
Alistair however, kept silent. Allowing his eyes to pass across the obvious message. For a second, Cecilia’s eyes widened as she watched him, as though she could not fathom he would wish for her safety.
You could not possibly think I detest you, do you?
Alistair frowned. The thought of her having such notions upset him for some reason. He watched as her cheeks flamed suddenly and she turned away from him.
What was that?
“I do not-”
“We should head back to your brothers. Get on your horse, now,” Alistair left no space for question with his loud command, cutting her short.
He watched her get on her horse in silence, and only then did he climb his and gestured toward the path the Everton men had run off to.
“After you?”
CHAPTER 12
“Miss Everton, I swear, if you keep insisting the stag went this way, we’ll end up chasing shadows,” Alistair exclaimed, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead as he scanned the dense thicket around them.
Cecilia rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with exasperation. “And if you keep doubting me, we’ll miss our chance entirely. I saw my brothers dart off in this direction, Your Grace! The stag went through here!”
The forest was alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant calls of birds, but all Alistair could focus on was Cecilia. She sat on her horse, fiercely arguing with him on the direction they were to take, even going as far as to claim she could wager on finding the quarry and her brothers all at once.
They had been riding for a while to find empty snow stretches however, and strands of her silky hair fell from her braid now,caught the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, framing her face like a halo.
The fitted riding jacket accentuated her slim waist, and the way she moved before him—confidently, with purpose—was mesmerizing. He shook his head, trying to dispel the untoward thoughts racing through his mind.
“Your confidence is admirable, but it doesn’t change the fact that we’ve lost the trail,” he cleared his throat, attempting to maintain a tone of authority.
