Lizzie may be stubborn, pigheaded, and completely vexing to him as she glared at him from across the carriage. But all those things aside, her glare was beautiful. Her eyes, the color of chestnuts, had a beautiful almond shape to them. Her nose had the tiniest lift at the tip. Her full lips were ruby red and begging to be kissed.
He dragged his eyes away. If he kept thinking such thoughts the already long journey would be even longer. He didn’t need to be pining over Lizzie Barclay, who could very well be a thief.
“How long until we stop next?” Lizzie asked.
“We’ve only just begun our journey. ’Twill be some time.”
She sighed and focused her gaze on the trees beyond the window as they passed.
He’d had a conversation with Gunn before he’d left. His friend had warned him about what it would like for him to be traveling with the lass. She had her maid, which one could say could serve as chaperone, but even he understood that the visual was not the best. Him traveling with two lasses, confined to a carriage for days.
Gunn knew him well. He didn’t worry that Malcolm’s conduct would be ungentlemanly in anyway, but worried what it would look like to outward appearances.
The last thing he would do was compromise Lizzie in any way whatsoever. Being forced to marry because someone demanded so, was not anything that he had any interest in. Nor would he wish that upon the sulking woman sitting across from him.
He hadn’t thought too much about marriage—other than he would probably never enter into such a union.
He was glad his friends had found happiness with their wives. He was thrilled for them, and they were truly happy whenever he saw them. The love they shared was evident on their faces.
But for him, love was not in the cards. He trusted no one outside of the friends he had grown up with. If the war had taught him anything, it was that ye only got hurt by the ones ye were trying to help.
He sighed, pushing his hands through his hair. Now that he thought about it, he was putting himself in a situation that he had vowed he never would again.
*
Lizzie stole glancesof the earl when he wasn’t looking. He seemed deep in thought and by the frown on his face, his thoughts weren’t happy ones.
The crease in his forehead made him look much too serious. Her eyes met with Mary’s who had been wringing her hands in her lap since they’d sat in the carriage.
She knew that the earl was irritated about having to travel to Stonehaven. It was evident by his countenance. And she should probably let him ride in silence, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Sir,” Lizzie called. “Do ye have my grandmama’s jewelry on your person?”
His gaze slid over to her, and he cocked his head.
She found herself straightening at his assessment and she met his eyes, refusing to look away.
“Aye,” he finally answered.
“May I see them, please?” It killed her to ask so nicely, when all she wanted to do was demand that he let her have them. She got the feeling that she would get her way easier with sweetness. The earl didn’t seem the type to take orders very well. Nay, he was more the type to bark orders and expect everyone to obey.
He sighed and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out the necklace.
Mary gasped beside her.
“Ye did it, Miss. Ye really did find them,” Mary whispered awestruck.
“I told ye I would, Mary. I was sure that Viscountess Wilson was the thief, and I was right.”
The earl pulled back his hand, his brows furrowed.
“What did ye say?”
Lizzie thought back to what she had just said. “That I found my grandmama’s jewelry?”
“Nay.” He shook his head. “About the viscountess.”
Lizzie went to speak and then snapped her mouth shut. Well, bother. She hadn’t meant to say that in front of him.
