“I only set eyes on him once,” she responded, stepping into the stirrup and mounting astride, and giving him a tantalizing glimpse of bare calf before she settled her skirts again. “I was but two years old. A wee bairn. I’ve nae heard that he was a cruel man. Why? Areyea cruel man?”
No sidesaddle for Fiona Blackstock. She sat in the saddle well, completely comfortable. “That depends on who you ask.” Gabriel put his fingers to his mouth and whistled for Union Jack.
“Ye’re a violent man, though. I dunnae need to ask anyone aboot that.” At least she hadn’t tried to ride off without him.
“I’m a soldier.” Jack trotted up, and Gabriel swung into the saddle. “A farmer milks cows, and I kill enemies of the state.”
“Ha. That’s very practical of ye,” she noted, leading the way as they trotted back over the bridge. If she had any other visits to make it seemed she’d decided to postpone them until he was elsewhere.
“I’m a practical man,” he agreed with a half smile, settling into a comfortable canter beside her. Glancing down, he again took in the sight of her bare calf above men’s work boots. How the devil was he supposed to see to Lattimer when he couldn’t conjure anything but how her soft-looking skin would feel against his? “Are you a practical woman?”
She pursed her lips, and he nearly brained himself on a tree branch. “I reckon I am. That doesnae make us the same.”
This time he grinned over at her. “I may not be a Highlander, lass, but I do know the difference between a man and a woman. I have an almost artistic appreciation for those differences, you might say.”
Fiona snorted. “Do ye? I’d nae noticed.”
No, they didn’t have much at all in common, but he was fairly certain that this was flirtation. And it was a damned fine beginning.
Chapter Five
What sort of man kissed a woman twice within two days of being introduced? Certainly not a gentleman. Fiona glanced sideways at the six-foot man and a trained warhorse, walking two feet away from her.
And what sort of woman encouraged that behavior? Because while the first kiss last night had truly surprised her, she could make no such claim for the second. Yes, it had been partly curiosity; what lass wouldn’t want to be certain if a kiss had been as fine as she remembered it, or if her imagination had given it merits it didn’t deserve? Now she knew that if anything, her recollections hadn’t given that kiss enough credit. Good heavens.
“You just admitted to being practical,” he said abruptly. “If you pretend now to be overwhelmed with shyness I’ll simply keep making statements until you feel compelled to respond.”
“I’m nae being shy,” she retorted. “I was thinking that old coat and those trousers might’ve fooled Ailios into thinking ye were a visiting Maxwell farmer or someaught, but they didnae fool me. Nae fer a second.”
“I wasn’t trying to fool anyone. I’m not a spy. I am precisely what you see.”
Perhaps that was so, but whatdidshe see when she looked at him? Not quite the same thing she’d noted when he’d first jumped into the mudhole. Fiona clenched her jaw. Why was she even contemplating the question? “Why did ye follow me?” she blurted, to change the subject before she could begin mooning at him or something equally outrageous.
“I saw you heading for the stable,” he returned promptly in his deep English tones. “You owe me a look at the ledgers, and I didn’t want you escaping somewhere.”
“‘Escaping’?” she repeated, scoffing. “That would make me a coward, which I amnae. And I dunnae call me attending to my duties escaping.”
“Nor do I.” She felt rather than saw his gaze on her, because she deliberately looked elsewhere. His gray eyes seemed far keener than they should have, and she absolutely didn’t want him thinking that she found him… interesting. That might lead to more kissing. “But strictly speaking,” he continued, “they aren’tyourduties, are they?”
Back to that again. Damn her for being too stubborn to answer one of the solicitor’s bloody letters, anyway, and bringing this mess down on her own head. “They were my father’s duties, they were my brother’s, and now they’re mine,” she stated, with every bit of confidence and disdain that she could muster. “If the old duke didnae like my ways, he had nearly four years to tell me so.”
“Ah. So he knew you’d assumed the position of estate manager?”
“He knew Lattimer was being run well and fairly,” she retorted, though privately she doubted old Ronald Leeds had given Lattimer Castle more than a passing thought in twenty years. “We’d nae earned him much of a profit, but he didnae have a complaint that reached my ears.” As far as she could tell he’d tried to forget the place altogether. And that suited her quite well.
“I shouldn’t have bothered coming here, then,” he said, guiding his big bay gelding around a fallen tree. Whatever she thought of him, she had to admit—to herself, at least—that this Major Gabriel Forrester knew how to ride. He sat straight-backed but completely at ease, his fingers loosely gripping the reins as he guided his mount with pressure from his heels and knees more than anything else. That was likely so he could ride and shoot or slash at the same time, but the why of his skill didn’t make it any less impressive. The Beast of Bussaco, indeed.
“Nae, ye shouldnae have,” she agreed belatedly, after he lifted one curved eyebrow at her, the expression rendered more quizzical by the scar that bisected the left side of his face. “I cannae even imagine all the trouble the French must be causing in Spain without ye there to stop them.”
“Neither can I,” he returned, his voice clipped. “But as this property belongs to me,” he continued, ducking beneath a branch, “I require more than the word of a damned gizzard-threatening female to convince me that Lattimer is running as it should.”
“And that’s the mouth ye kissed me with?” she retorted, before she could stop herself.
His lips curved upward. “Not kissed. Kiss. Present tense. Will kiss again. Future tense.”
“I dunnae need a damned grammar lesson, ye annoying man. And ye’ll have the books,” she said as evenly as she could manage. “I’m nae carrying them in my pockets, though, so ye’ll have to wait until I can hand them to ye.”
“And I’ll remain by your side until you do so.” He tilted his head. “Very close by your side.”
