Chapter Seven
A short while later, they slowed their horses from a comfortable trot to an easy walk. This was done without voiced agreement, a happenstance Melissa took as a sign. After all, the trees were thinning now and not too far ahead, riders could be seen on Rotten Row. Not a large number as the hour remained indecently early for the fine sort of folk who visited Hyde Park for pleasure rather than to hawk wares or engage in other activities, the likes of which she did not care to consider.
Either way they would soon return to the famous equestrian path and that meant their inevitable arrival back at Hyde Park Corner.
And so the mutual delaying of their farewells struck her as significant.
Her heart fluttered.
Clearly he was also reluctant to part. Or did he simply have more to tell her? He’d already shared revelations about his family and home all the way back into the mists of time, or so it seemed to her. And she’d loved every word. His tales of Lyongate Hall and his ancestors fascinated her. She’d especially liked Conley the Lion.
His descriptions of the Highlands spoke to her soul and made her pulse quicken. She could listen all day as he talked of the rugged, mist-cloaked mountains he obviously loved so much. The sheer cliffs he said felt like the world’s end, and then the deep and mysterious glens, the heather-clad moors, and sparkling lochs.
How could he bear to be anywhere else?
She didn’t know. But she was glad he was here.
Edging her horse closer, she reached over and touched his arm. “You made me feel as if I have already been to Scotland,” she said. “I can smell the peat smoke and feel the cold wind, see the mist curling down the hillsides, and even the deer high on the moors.”
He glanced at her. “No words can compare, lass. Wait till you set foot there. You will lose your heart.”
“Scotland has always had my heart.” She smiled, almost giddy with excitement. “I want to see Lyongate, too. Meet Budge and everyone else. Your family-”
“My family is pretty much nonexistent, sweeting.” A shadow passed over his face, or perhaps a cloud had blocked the morning sun. “My father passed no’ too long ago, and too many others left us long before him. Lyongate is mostly filled with echoes and shadows these days. I’ll no’ hide that from you.
“It’s a lonely place,” he added, then waited as a small group of young men rode past them. “Remote splendor as some poets call it, isn’t for everyone.”
“You have your shadow cat,” Melissa reminded him when they were again alone on the path. “I wouldn’t mind such a companion, otherworldly or not. I’d love to see him. I wish my family had an enchanted cat rather than Lady Clarice and her daughters.”
“Ah well…” He shifted in his saddle, considering. “At the least, they will no’ plague your family for all time. Our shadow cat has been slinking around Lyongate for centuries. He will likely continue long after you and I are no more.”
“That makes him all the more romantic.”
“Romantic?”
“To me, yes.” She didn’t miss how his eyes crinkled at the corners. “You think I am being silly.”
“No’ at all. I just do no’ see the romance of our phantom cat.”
“You did say he isn’t bad,” she said. “Doesn’t he only appear when things are not going well? When you or whoever is laird or heir in your family must stand tall and do something extraordinary to help the clan or estate?”
“Aye,” he admitted, his blue eyes warming again. “That’s the way of it. You listened well. I’d worried to bore you.”
You could never do that.
Everything about you fascinates me.
“And I am concerned about any scandal or hardship I might bring you,” she said, voicing her own worry. “I have made a bit of a name for myself in recent times. Nor will dealing with my stepmother be without difficulties.
“There are other matters as well.” The image of her carriage horses flickered across her mind, her heart squeezing to think of them, of how much they depended on her. “Things that I must see to, and quickly, while there is time.”
“Sweet lass…” He took her reins, urging both horses to a halt at the path’s edge. “Your worries are now mine. Anything that happens, or that needs tending, will be dealt with by me.”
“My troubles might be more than you-”
“Melissa.” He gave her a look that made her heart beat faster. “I have dealt with worse than prickly stepmothers and their spoiled offspring. My family stretches back to when blue-painted Picts ran across our territory, banishing enemies by the sheer ferocity of their appearance. In all that time, Lyongate has seen its share of trouble, as have I. From this point onward, I will look after you, and deal with any problems that may arise.”
“It isn’t just about me.”
