“Jaco, sit,” Logan said in a firm voice, and the dog sat. Logan turned to Faith, his hazel eyes shining with some sort of bemusement. “What is it? You don’t like dogs?”
“I don’t like big dogs,” she corrected him, eyeing the animal. “Particularly ones who look like they bite.”
“Jaco doesn’t bite.”
“Then why did he bare his teeth at me before?”
“He probably thought you were someone dangerous,” he said before adding, “and as he’s a poor judge of character, he doesn’t find you all that threatening.”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“It’s a wonder he remains your pet then, considering your character.”
Faith had once overheard Logan and Graham discussing a plot to marry her sister Hope so that Graham could regain ownership of Lismore Hall. It had been a wicked plan and though everything eventually worked out in the end, and she knew that Graham truly loved Hope for herself and not merely her inheritance, Faith had never quite forgiven Logan for his involvement.
It seemed he hadn’t forgotten either.
“I will not apologize for trying to help Graham,” he said. “And from what I understand, you’ve forgiven him for it.”
“Yes, because he is family now. But that doesn’t negate your involvement.”
“I was merely supporting a friend. Besides, they are happily married now, are they not?”
“Only because they fell in love,” Faith said, before adding under her breath, “impractical as that is.”
“Indeed.”
Her gaze met his and she cocked her head.
“See? We can agree on at least one thing, Mr. Harris. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to return to Lismore Hall. I can’t carry on in these wet clothes.”
“I will escort you—”
“No. No, I think I’ve suffered enough of your company for one day.”
To her surprise, he let out a snicker as she turned away to trudge back the way she’d come. The rain began to come down even harder. If she hadn’t already been drenched, Faith would have guessed that the walk home would have been enough to soak her. When she finally reached the garden wall of Lismore, she glanced over her shoulder to see that Logan hadn’t followed her. But Jaco had. The dog paused upon seeing her stop.
“Go away. Shoo.” But he didn’t move. She let out a breath. “Foolish dog. Jaco. Go.”
The dog’s ears perked up at his name, and at the command, he turned, trotting off down the path that he had followed her down.
What a terrible day, indeed.
Chapter Two
Logan leaned againsta large boulder as he began to shiver from the cold. His eyes focused on the path that led to Lismore, waiting for Jaco to return. The dog had followed Faith back, and he was once again grateful for having been talked into getting the dog by his sister, Arabella, last fall. Jaco was some sort of German/Scottish mutt of no great pedigree, but he was exceedingly intelligent, not to mention useful—particularly in this circumstance, as Logan himself didn’t want to accompany Faith back home, but he couldn’t let her go alone.
It wasn’t because he didn’t like her—although it was very true that he didn’t. Faith Sharpe was one of the most annoying women he had ever had the displeasure of knowing. She was constantly giving her opinion when no one asked for it, and when, rather than upbraiding her as she deserved, he would ignore her, the end result was to be seethed at by her for any number of hours. She was prickly and haughty, as any granddaughter of an earl would be. Not to mention that she was beautiful, and it grated Logan’s nerves that he found her so attractive.
But having held her, wet and shivering in his arms, just moments after experiencing the beginning of one of his episodes, his emotions were a bit jumbled. Logan shifted his weight against the boulder, wondering why he felt so out of sorts.
Ever since returning home from the Second Burmese War, he had suffered bouts of crippling anxiety. It would manifest after becoming frustrated, which was why he had been prompted to take up fishing in the first place. Except that the sport only seemed to cause him more grief, particularly on mornings such as this one when his mood was already low from another restless night.
Sleep had long since evaded Logan. When the sun went down, his nerves would fire, and he would become more awake than he was during the day. It didn’t help that he lived with his father and sister, who were aware of his midnight wanderings. They always tried to soothe him with suggestions and new crackpot ideas on how to sleep when what he really needed was to be left alone. His sister had even suggested sleeping with certain gemstones beneath his pillow, to supposedly sooth away his insomnia.
Which was ridiculous, to say the least.
It was why Logan had left Harris House so early. Pretending that fishing brought him joy and required an ungodly number of hours gave him some distance from his family. So, every morning, he would leave before the sun rose, head down to the loch just over the hill from his home, and paddle out into the water with only Jaco for company.
