F
It would be embarrassing to admit how his body had reacted to such a brief letter. Six words to set his blood ablaze, tapping into an unseen pool of desire such as he had not felt in years.Already the hours in between seemed filled with months rather than minutes. And what a clever minx. The hunting lodge was a perfect place for a rendezvous.
The Lismore Hunting Lodge was a stone building set in the northern part of the Lismore estate. Graham had lived in it before he married Hope and moved into the hall, but it had been vacant for some twelve months, save when it was used for after their deer stalking retreats.
It was the perfect place to commence their affair, and when Logan finally reached the copse of tall Scotch pine that hid the gray stone hunting lodge the next day, he could barely contain evidence of his eagerness.
The lodge was modest in size, especially compared to Harris House, but it was large enough to sleep twenty men comfortably. A staff of four had lived there when Graham was in residence, but as they were no longer needed full time, they had been let go to seek other employment. Temporary help was hired as needed during the hunting seasons.
Its seclusion from the rest of the world made it an ideal place to meet. As it came into view, Logan saw Faith standing at the top of the stone steps in front of the green-painted front door. His heart began to beat hard against his chest, a reaction that he tried to convince himself had nothing to do with Faith herself, merely his excitement at the start of an affair.
Faith was dressed in a blue-and-green striped gown covered mostly by a dark, intricately styled cloak. It was gray wool but trimmed with a gold-and-yellow tartan, a plaid that gave Logan pause.
That was Duncan’s family plaid.
Faith must have noted his hesitation, for her friendly smile shrank away.
“Is everything all right?” she asked as he came off his horse.
“That cloak,” he said, taking the rein of his horse in his hand. “Where did you get it?”
“Oh,” Faith said, smiling again. “It’s Jeanne’s. She left it during Aunt Belle’s party and I thought to, well, borrow it, so that no one would recognize me. Though no one knows I’m here.”
Relief coursed through him as he let out a breath. He hadn’t been aware of how affected he was by seeing something that reminded him of Duncan wrapped around Faith. It had been surprising, to say the least.
“Are you all right?” she asked, breaking into his intrusive thoughts.
“Yes,” he said unevenly. Her one brow arched higher than the other, and he knew she didn’t believe him. “Truly,” he said, trying to fill his voice with as much certainty as possible. He didn’t wish to speak about Duncan now.
“No, you’re not,” she challenged. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Liar,” she pressed, and he felt the familiar teasing he always did in her company. “Tell me.”
Her command was infuriating and arousing all at once. He could see that she wasn’t likely to let it go, even though it was a trifle.
“That,” he said, nodding to the hem of her cloak, “is Carlyle plaid.”
Faith looked down before raising her face, frowning.
“Yes, and?” she asked before it dawned on her. Jeanne had once explained that Logan had served with her husband and that he grieved the man’s death in the war. Her face fell. “Oh. Oh yes, of course.” A stilted silence hung between them as Logan’s horse hooved the ground. Faith shook her head. “I’m sorry to have worn it.”
“There’s no need to apologize, he said. “It’s neither here nor there.”
“But it makes you uncomfortable.”
“It does not.”
She quirked her head.
“It does. Your face became drawn when you saw it.”
Logan scowled.
“It did not.”
“It did though,” she insisted before taking a breath. “There’s no reason to deny it. I certainly haven’t the faintest idea of your experiences, but there is no shame to them, I’m sure.”
