She did not like to defy her father’s will that much.
“You would be in rare company, if that were so, my lady.” His tone turned bleak. “Few have concerned themselves with my fate in the past.”
Her heart twisted that he should have known so little affection and she almost pledged more than she should offer. “Your mother, surely?”
Ramsay laughed a little. “She was the least likely to give a care.”
“But that is unnatural…”
“One might say as much. She handfasted to my father, bore me and left him.” His eyes were shadowed, his voice devoid of emotion. “She returned when I had seen six summers and snatched me away.”
“Because she missed you!”
Ramsay shook his head and his tone was bitter. “Because she knew my father would be thinking that I had some usefulness by then. She took me to injure him, no more than that.”
Evangeline was shocked. “But she must have raised you then.”
Ramsay shook his head. “Not she. She abandoned me to the custody of an acquaintance, a man of honor who chose to see promise in me.” He smiled then, a little. “The Baron of Rainfirth was the first to hold me in any affection, though of course, most of his favor was for his own son.”
“I am sorry,” Evangeline said, unable to imagine what it would be like to grow up without a family or even one parent’s affection. She felt suddenly appreciative of her own kin, with all their faults and challenges, never mind the vexation of a brother like Nigel. Ramsay must have been very lonely.
Perhaps he could not bring himself to trust another, even now.
Ramsay lowered his voice to an intimate tone that made every increment of Evangeline thrum. “Perhaps if I found myself in a dire situation again, a beauteous maiden will come to my aid once more,” he murmured, his tone teasing and Evangeline flushed crimson. Anna looked between them with curiosity, for she had not been at Inverfyre five years before.
To her dismay, he leaned closer, touching his lips to her ear. “Perhaps once again, I should be lost even as I was found.”
“Ramsay,” she whispered, her heart clenched tight. His slow smile launched a simmer of heat within her and he cupped her face with his hand. It seemed a man could not regard a woman with more admiration, and Evangeline felt her resistance to him melt like snow in springtime.
“Good fortune should not be expected,” she managed to say “One can welcome it but not rely upon it. That is not good sense.”
Ramsay’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Is it not good sense to hope for such fortune, then? For I have yearned for another measure these five long years.”
Evangeline could not summon a word to her lips, so snared was she by Ramsay’s allure.
His eyes darkened as he leaned closer, his voice dropping so low that she nigh forgot the presence of her maid. “And would you save me again, my lady? Or are such impulsive choices long behind you and well forgotten?” His gaze searched hers, making it obvious the answer he sought, his intensity such that he might will the confession from her lips by will alone.
All urgency to flee abandoned her. There was only this man, only Ramsay and his question, only Ramsay and his evident concern for her. In that moment, she would have followed him anywhere, granted him any favor, surrendered any prize, simply to taste another of his kisses. Ramsay’s gaze was unswerving, his eyes vehemently blue, and she could neither avert her gaze nor swallow. She should not encourage him. She should not respond to his teasing. She should not burn for another sweet kiss.
But it was harder than it should have been to do what she should do in this man’s presence.
With an effort, Evangeline tore her gaze from his own, only for it to drop to his mouth. She watched as he smiled slowly, as if he, too, remembered both kisses, as if the memory sent a tide of yearning through him that equaled, or even exceeded, her own.
The man was a madness in her veins. Evangeline knew she would save him again, and without hesitation, which meant she had no more sense than he.
“Ramsay,” she whispered. “You must know that I would.”
The words hung between them for a potent moment, then he caught her close. It was delicious to have his arms close around her, to feel captive, safe and cherished, to feel the heat of his body against her own. She felt his fingers slide into her hair and her anticipation rose. He bent and captured her lips beneath his own in a sweet persuasive kiss, a salute that sent a welcome fire to her toes. When he lifted his head, she shivered, both cold and hot at the same moment, and he held her against his chest.
“My lady,” he whispered, his voice so taut that she closed her eyes. “One caress from you and I forget all else of import.”
Evangeline smiled, relieved that it was thus for both of them.
They might have stared at each other until nightfall, but Anna cleared her throat pointedly. “My lady, I had understood our departure was of some urgency.”
Evangeline shook her head and stepped out of Ramsay’s embrace, noting that he also seemed to recall himself to their peril. He brought the horses around, checking their trap, his impatience to be gone more than clear. Anna, meanwhile, was rolling up the wet garments to press the water from them. She stamped on them in the glade, a veritable river running from the cloth.
“Leave them!” Ramsay insisted as he beckoned to her. Both lady and maid stared at him in shock.
