Miss Hardgrave would have an absolute fit if she found out. This was, by far, the most disobedient act that Brynne had ever committed. Which, depending on how one viewed it, was either very good or very sad.
She hesitated on the bottom step, her toes curling over the smooth wooden lip as her practical mind urged her to return upstairs with all haste while her rarely explored adventurous spirit cried for her to keep going. After a brief internal struggle, the latter side won out and, with a wide grin, she dashed across the foyer and into the kitchen where the servants’ entrance provided her the most discreet pathway out of the house.
Her bedroom overlooked the rear of the estate which meant she had to go all the way along the length of the solarium, careful not to turn her ankle on the freshly dug piles of earth that were being used to build staggered flower beds, and around the back terrace before she reached the enormous alder tree that had stood guard beside her window long before even her father had been born.
Its massive canopy had obscured her view from above, but now that she was on the ground and her eyes had adjusted to the slivers of moonlight dancing across the rolling lawn, she picked out Lachlan’s shadowy frame with ease.
“Took ye long enough,” he said, stepping out from behind the alder’s trunk.
“I thought it was you,” she said smugly.
He cocked a brow. “Is there anyone else that would be throwing rocks at yer window in the middle of the night?”
“Well, no,” she admitted.
“Didna think so.”
They stared at each other. The volatile, hotheaded Scottish boy who had been suspended from school for fighting and the quiet, introspective English girl who had never met a rule she didn’t follow.
They shouldn’t have ever met, let alone been standing together in the darkness. Yet here they were. Two lonely souls who were (unbeknownst to even themselves) desperately seeking a connection with someone who understood them in a way their families could not.
“Want tae see something neat?” Lachlan asked.
“Yes,” Brynne said, and this time there was no hesitation. “Very much.”
“Come with me, then.” He took her hand, his fingers sliding between hers until they were locked in a firm grip and, together, they plunged into the night, following a narrow trail lined with chipped marble.
She didn’t ask how he seemed to already know the grounds surrounding the manor as well or mayhap even better than she did. Lachlan struck her as the adventurous sort, and it was easy to envision him exploring the paths, and the outbuildings, and the gardens that made up the estate while she’d been stuck inside practicing how to pour tea out of a long-stemmed teapot.
“Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly when they passed the stables and entered the woods. A thorn bush snagged at her nightgown. She gave it a yank, and winced when the fabric tore. But there was no time to stop and examine the damage done, not with Lachlan galloping ahead at full speed.
They twisted their way through the forest, leaping over exposed roots and jumping across logs. Twice, she nearly fell and, twice, Lachlan was right there to catch her, almost as if he instinctively sensed when she was in trouble even before she did.
Finally, they tumbled out of the woods and into a meadow. Despite having spent every summer and half of the winter at Hawkridge since she was born, Brynne had never visited this particular spot before. Filled with wavy grass that gleamed in the moonlight like an ocean of silver, it sat high on a knoll surrounded by trees.
“Here,” said Lachlan, pulling her towards the center. “Stand right here and close yer eyes.”
Brynne followed his instructions obediently. Her feet were smarting from running along the rough forest trail, a sticky layer of perspiration clung to her forehead, and the hem of her nightgown was in tatters, but none of that mattered. Despite their rough start this morning, she trusted Lachlan. As much as she trusted Weston, the person she loved most in the entire world. Which was strange and bewildering, especially considering she’d known her brother since the minute she was born and Lachlan for all of ten hours.
But the wonderful and wise thing about being young and naïve was that she still trusted herself. The world hadn’t had time to break her heart or make her hard. Thus, when that little voice inside of her spoke up and said that she was safe with Lachlan, and that he’d never do anything to harm her, she had no reason to doubt it.
“All right,” he said, his warm breath tickling the wispy curls at the nape of her neck as he stepped behind her, “now drop yer head all the way back and open yer eyes.”
Again, she did as he asked. Slowly, bit by bit, as if it were Christmas morning and she wanted to savor every second of joy that came from walking into the drawing room on that special day and seeing the mountain of presents piled beneath the tree, Brynne tipped her face to the heavens and opened her eyes.
“Oh,” she gasped, stunned by the sight that awaited her. “It’s…it’sbeautiful.”
She’d seen the night sky before, of course.
Countless times.
But not like this.
Never like this.
It was…it wasinfinite.
A sprawling cloak of black velvet dotted with millions and millions of stars, each one shining brighter than the last. There was nary a cloud to be seen. Only the sliver of the moon, a crescent of alabaster carved out of the abyss that glowed with its own special source of light.
