The look on his face made the young woman colour and turned away. Duncan watched as she made her way back to the inn. He was about to deliver some harsh words to Eliza, but when he climbed into the carriage, he saw that she had dropped off to sleep.
Duncan was almost relieved as they started their journey. Now there would be no awkward, pointless conversation and no uncomfortable silences, and he could lie back and think about the issues that were troubling him and perhaps find solutions to his problems.
Yet, he could not make himself concentrate on rational thought when there was such a beautiful woman only a few feet away from him. Eliza Tewsbury was one of the loveliest women he had ever seen, and he had thought so since the first moment he saw her.
He studied her fine, sculpted features, her arched eyebrows, high cheekbones and full, cupid’s bow lips. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss them, and felt his body stiffen in response. Eliza had round, generous breasts and a small waist that flared into round, womanly hips. She was temptation personified, and it would have taken very little encouragement for him to indulge himself to the fullest extent, for she was everything he had ever wanted in a woman. As well as that, they had plenty of time to kill in the carriage.
They had been moving for a couple of hours, and Duncan was utterly bored. He wished Eliza would wake up so that he could at least have someone to talk to—even if it was mostly to argue—but she was still fast asleep.
Presently, the carriage began to bump and rattle over the ground, then it came to a juddering halt. Duncan was alarmed, and jumped out of the carriage to see what the problem was.
He found the driver standing looking down at the front wheel of the carriage with an expression of exasperated annoyance on his face.
“What is the problem?” he asked, frowning.
The driver pointed to the wheel, and Duncan followed his pointing finger to see that two of the wheel spokes had broken. “There was a big pothole in the road,” he explained. “I tried tae avoid it, but I couldnae.” The driver sighed and shook his head.
Duncan looked at the two carriage horses and frowned, then came to a decision. “How far away are we from the nearest village?” he asked.
“About half a mile fae Weirmouth,” the driver answered. “I can walk.”
“Go there and get the carriage fixed,” Duncan said, dropping some coins into his hand. “We will take the horse and ride.”
The driver nodded and smiled, pointing at the horse. “Take care of my Jock, he is a good lad.”
Then he went on his way, leaving Duncan to unhitch the horse. He stood beside the animal for a moment, stroking his grey neck, wondering what to do next.
“Well, Jock,” he said sadly, “here’s a mess we could well have done without. It’s a good thing you’re a fine, strong lad, since you will have to carry two of us. How do you feel about that?”
Jock whickered and nuzzled Duncan’s hair, seeming to signal his approval, drawing a laugh out of him.
Because Jock was a carriage horse, there was a bridle but no saddle, and he realised that not only would they have to share a horse, but they would have to ride bareback.
Duncan sighed and ran a hand backwards over his hair, putting off the evil moment when he would have to tell Eliza about their predicament. He walked over to the carriage and looked inside, then climbed in, slid along the seat and put his arm around her shoulders.
For a moment Duncan did nothing but hold her, breathing in her scent of lavender, roses and woman, loving the feeling of her pliant body resting against his. He sighed, realising how long it had been since he had enjoyed this kind of embrace.
However, he had no more time to indulge himself. It was past midday, and they still had a very long way to go. Granted, the daylight did not disappear until about midnight at this time of year, but they still had a considerable distance to travel until they reached his home at Lennoxburn Castle.
Reluctantly but very gently, Duncan shook Eliza awake. She opened her eyes slowly and looked around herself for a moment, clearly wondering where she was, but when she looked up and her gaze met his, she pushed away from him and sat up.
“What happened? Why did we stop?” she demanded, wrapping her arms around herself as if for protection.
“One of the wheels on the carriage broke,” he replied. “The driver has gone to have it fixed, but we must make haste, so we will have to ride.”
“But I do not know how to ride,” Eliza protested. “I never learned.”
For a moment, Duncan was stunned. Every young lady of his acquaintance could ride; it was almost regarded as mandatory, but they would have to manage somehow. Then he reminded himself that Eliza Tewsbury was no Highland woman, but an English lady.
“No matter,” he said firmly. “We’ll be riding the same horse, so I will keep you safe.”
Eliza stared at him for a moment, and he could see the fear and doubt in her dark eyes. He wanted to comfort her, but he knew that she would push him away, so he waited patiently for her response.
At last, Eliza sighed. “It seems I have no choice.”
Duncan helped her out of the carriage, then hoisted her effortlessly onto the horse and climbed up behind her. He had seated her sideways so that she would not have to straddle the animal, since that would have been uncomfortable and undignified for a lady.
They set off, but as soon as Duncan urged the horse into a trot, Eliza gave a little squeal and grabbed his arm so tightly that he knew that it would bruise him. He laughed at her antics; she was so stubborn and determined to let him know that he was not her keeper.
