“You’ll meet her soon enough. Then you’ll understand.”
Chapter Five
’Twas a very good thing for Mr. Haddington that Duncan was occupied with driving Sophia to his mother’s house, elsewise he’d likely have tracked the man down and beaten him to a bloodied mess. He’d long suspected Haddington was a blackguard of the worst sort, but hearing the proof of it from Sophia’s lips and seeing the fear in her eyes had ended all doubts.
Though Sophia had worked hard to hide it, she’d cried off and on during their drive. The tears had only fully stopped when she had fallen asleep.
Haddington had made her cry. That, Duncan could not forgive.
She sat tucked up beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. It was a position of such utter trust. A number of women had thrown themselves at him. Those who knew him as the stable master generally saw little beyond a handsome face and strong build. Those acquainted with his life away from thestables were far more intrigued by his holdings and connections. None of them ever bothered to see the man he was.
But this woman, this highborn lady with her impeccable manners and precise civility, had seenhim. More than that, she liked thehimshe had seen. What would she think when she realized how much of his life he’d kept secret from her?
The wind picked up, as it often did in the Highlands. Duncan pulled her closer, hoping to lend her a bit of warmth. She fidgeted a bit before her eyes fluttered open. Whether it was the chill or his movement that woke her, he didn’t know.
She didn’t lift her head from his shoulder. “I fear I am not a very enjoyable traveling companion.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
She pulled the wool blanket more firmly around her shoulders. “You prefer your companions asleep?”
“Quiet, anyway.” He smiled down at her.
She took a deep breath and settled more snugly against him. “Will your mother be upset to have us descend upon her without warning?”
“She enjoys visitors.”
“Even visitors who are English?”
The thought of his mother, of all people, being put out over Sophia’s Englishness pulled a laugh from him.
“Why should that amuse you so much?”
He shook his head. “You’ll simply have to meet her.”
“Why do you call her Mary, Queen of Scots?”
“Again, you’ll have to meet her.”
She sat up straight but turned a bit to face him more directly. “You are making me more worried, not less.”
He slipped the reins into one hand, then took hold of her hand with his free one. “My mother is a good-hearted lady who not only lives alone and longs for visitors, but who also rather dotes upon her only son and will be smotheringly affectionate towardanyone he chooses to bring to see her, especially if he happens to be fond of that visitor.”
“You’re fond of me?”
Of all he’d said,thatwas what she’d latched on to? “Of course I am. Do you think I’d spend six evenings out of seven wandering a garden chatting with you if I wasn’t?”
“Or driving me to meet the queen.”
“Indeed.”
She wove her fingers through his. He liked that. “Are you pleased, then, that I begged you to be my friend?”
“I’d not say you begged, but I am pleased.”
“Are you truly?” She slid closer to him. He could feel the weight of her gaze. “Please don’t say that if you aren’t in earnest. So many people lie to me about things.” It was not the first time she’d said that.
“‘People’? Would that be your family, then?”
