Page 55 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

Will smiled at her.

"Well then, Lady Elisabeth, it's just us..."

CHAPTER 13

"Your horse quite likes me."

As chat-up lines went, this was certainly one of the more inventive. Lissie had to give him that. As she settled back into the wagon, one eye on the cool June night, Lissie summoned her strength.

It was late. From the position of the stars, Lissie could understand that Annice would be furious at her for coming home so late. Heavens knew what Annice would say, and still, they had not departed!

The wagoner had had problems, firstly with the wheel, and then with the horses. The delay had caused them to be stationary for much of the night—just her and Will together in the coach.

Outside, the air was cool and clear. Overhead, the moon shone down, almost as strong as the light of the sun. Perfume filled the air as the skies danced with flowers. Looking up, a million dandelion clocks had blown out into the open air.

Lissie breathed deep. It was fresh and clear, a welcome relief from the stuffy feast. All the same, she shivered beneath her thin shawl.

"Here." Will's hand came upon her, wrapping around her shoulders a shawl. The sensation of his hand on her flesh was unnerving—she had to do everything in her power not to jump—but she just about managed to turn to him coolly.

"Thank ye," she said, getting comfortable on the wagon. At last, the wagoner was boarding the seat, looking ready to leave. Snugly, she relaxed into the softness of the wool around her, her fingers unraveling its threads as she did. Slowly, she realized it was more a blanket than a fashioned garment, but Lissie cared not what she looked like right then.

She was more than ready to go to sleep when Will's hand came up beside her.

"Are you alright, miss?" he asked gently as she yawned into sleep. She couldn't help it. Too much mead and the hot room had taken their toll.

When she looked around, Lissie was surprised to discover her head lying on Will's shoulder. This was not what she had expected. Swiftly sitting up, Lissie straightened herself together.

"Och, pardon me," she whispered, embarrassed.

"Do not bother yourself, my darling," murmured Will.

His voice was honeyed and sweet. Lissie liked the sound of it, the soft edge that caressed her ears. But even so, she was a bit surprised to hear the tenderness within.

Lissie blinked awake. "I shouldnae..." she said, primly retrieving her shawl—or blanket—and struggling to extricate herself from his grip.

It was hard. Even without touching, his eyes tapped hers, and she was forced to give him the attention he craved. Now they were moving, the dark countryside passing by in a blur. Lissie watched from the top of the wagon and sighed.

Tonight had been fun but also a lot of effort. Keeping the act up was wearing, and Lissie was exhausted. For a while, she dozed, but every time she peeked, it was to see him watching her with a curious expression on his face.

What does he see in me? she wondered, her mind cutting back to their first encounter. It was on the bridge; she was worn and spent, and Will had been the only man kind enough to help.

She had been entranced from the start; she was poor and not from his world. And he was gentle and sweet. Pulling her lips into a line, Lissie wondered, did he recognize her from then? It did not show on his face if he did.

Together, through the dark, she caught his face. There was a look, a guilty one, as he regarded her lustily. She knew what he meant.

Will placed an experimental hand on her neck, running his index finger down her shoulder. A shiver bolted through her, thumping down into her base. Something deep twitched within her, making her sigh and ache. Sheer pleasure ran through her.

Blushing profusely, Lissie sought to extricate herself from Will's grip. Of course, it was not really a grip, and, of course, he had barely touched her. Which made Lissie's reaction all the more surprising. Moving a little, she shook off his hand, leaving Will uncertain and alone.

"I made friends with your horse," Will continued, as if she knew what he was talking about.

Perhaps she didn't, but it got Lissie's attention all the same. She could not help herself from stopping and looking more closely.

Will's sky-blue eyes chinked in the moonlight. They had an eerie quality in the silver light.

"Pardon?" said Lissie, drawn in.

A shiver ran around the air. There, in the jet black of the country, Lissie struggled to make out a single thing at all. With the manor house far behind them and the gate to London some way ahead, it was impossible to see a thing in the pitch dark. Pulling her shawl around her tightly, Lissie wondered how the wagoner could even see a thing at all.