Page 71 of A Highland Lass for the English Duke

He looked at the window in thought.

"I have already got the horse if you need it," Trenton offered. "Quicksilver rides like a speeding arrow!"

"I cannot," said Will feebly, but it was not enough. The fact was, he was here now, and there was not one solitary reason not to go.

"Brother, how long can you wait?" asked Trenton in disbelief. It took some time, but finally, Will wrestled with himself.

"Very well," he said eventually. "I shall let Lettie down, and then I shall find Lissie—even if it means riding to the Highlands."

Hiding a half-smile, Trenton came a little closer.

"And don't worry. I will cover with Lettice and ensure all is well. You never know, perhaps she might be interested in a consolation prize."

Trenton winked cheerily, as Will could not fail to laugh. But he looked at Trenton with gratitude.

"Thank you," he said before moving away from the table. "It'll make a change; you cleaning up after me."

Will gazed thoughtfully. Even though this was undoubtedly the right thing to do, something still haunted him.

"What is it, Brother?" asked Trenton anxiously. "You haven't changed your mind?"

"No," said Will, certainly. "The truth was, I never wanted to wed Lettie. But, well, it is our engagement feast, and I am about to let her down in the worst way possible. Trenton, could you see to it she is looked after and..." Will cast about uncertainly. "That she gets deliverance of the best horses we have to offer—and a gift of furs. I owe her that, at least."

Trenton nodded.

"I will see to it," he said as Will leaned over to embrace him. "But now you must go. The shadows grow long, and you must find her."

Will slapped his brother on the back.

"Thank you, Trenton. And find her I shall!"

But as he left, Will could not help but wonder.

What if I do not find her? Or worse, if Lissie does not want to marry me?

CHAPTER 17

In hindsight, she should never have stepped out of the tavern. As the curfew bell sounded, it should have been Lissie's cue to go back to the warm confines of the George's Inne. But with the pleasant summer around, the last rays of the sun dipping below the golden fields, Lissie felt an urge to walk. The fresh, clear air contrasted sharply with that of the London streets. Over the last weeks, the choked, pungent fumes had overwhelmed her. It was a blessed relief to be breathing in clean air once again.

Lissie paused by the small brook to admire the scene. Across the fields was London, its fug spreading deep. Lissie sighed.

This would be the last time she saw it. Or anyone in it. Lissie's heart faltered. She could not bring herself to leave it entirely.

Glancing backward, she saw a spiral of smoke coming from the Inn. The hostelry was warm and welcoming, but every footstep closer was one away from him.

Will.

Dissatisfied, she fiddled with Florentine's reins. Together, they held like stone, gazing into the summer skies. She was not supposed to be here. She had told Malcolm that she was at the inn. But she had grown restless. And before she knew it, she was here, watching out.

Staring back at London, Lissie thought about all she had left behind. Malcolm was there, somewhere, with all the bags. He had not been happy about her going ahead, but she had gone anyway.

And then there was Annice.

She had been unexpectedly generous, bestowing a gift of gold and silver upon her as a leaving present. This alone would make it worth the trip, and hopefully mean that she might avoid being married to Donald on her return.

Annice had also graciously invited her to stay anytime. Lissie had fought back the tears as she bade her farewell. But there was one person she had not said goodbye to, the one who occupied center space in her head.

It had been three whole days since she had heard from him. And even then, he had barely looked her in the eye. Holding on to Florentine, Lissie let the tears well up in her eyes. She could not help it. Everything had gone so wrong, and looking back at London only confirmed it. It was not for her. And neither was he. Dabbing at her eyes, Lissie's fingers curled around the monogrammed linen handkerchief. Bringing it closer, she scrutinized the embroidery.