Page 8

Sara glanced back to the keep. “You’re certain?”

“Aye. ’Tis a beautiful night, and if you don’t mind—”

“Stay as long as you’d like. And don’t worry about your father. I will take care of him. And will keep Allie company.”

Though it had been some time since she’d seen her friend, so much remained the same. Sara knew she kept her little sister close, protected her at all costs. Although . . . she was not so little anymore.

“I know you will. Thank you, Sara.”

With a smile, her dearest friend walked away. Gillian sagged back against the bench, drained by the thought of what was to come, but a noise behind her caused her to freeze. Should she call Sara back? Was there an intruder?

Nay, once her heart stopped racing, she realized there was no threat. It was a sound of pleasure, not pursuit—lovers meeting in the garden. As she stood up, intent on leaving, a moan reached her ears.

She should return to the hall.

Instead, she moved closer and peered around the edge of the trellis.

She barely managed to contain a gasp.

A blond girl in a servant’s dress had her back to Gillian. She couldn’t see the man yet, but the couple shifted a moment later, and moonlight shone on his face, making the features she could see plainly visible. High cheekbones and hair somewhere between blond and brown.

And it was short. At least on the sides.

But it was what he was doing to the woman that made her feet feel as if they were molded to the ground. When she tossed her head back, he ravished her neck with open-mouthed kisses. Supporting her with his hands, the man, a nobleman to be sure, turned his head just slightly and . . .

He saw her!

Gillian backed away and froze, unsure of what to do. Would he alert the girl to her presence? Would he come after her?

It seemed he’d do neither, for the sounds resumed. And Gillian took the opportunity to run away from the lovers. She only stopped when she arrived at the same door they’d emerged from earlier.

Leaning against it, Gillian closed her eyes and imagined the couple again. He’d been so tall and handsome, and yet there’d been something gentle about him. And the serving girl had clearly liked what he was doing to her.

Gillian had never so much as kissed a man under the watchful eyes of her father. She’d been courted, aye, but never left alone with a suitor.

And now it seemed she never would kiss a man. Well, with the exception of her future husband, but that thought was not a thought she wished to dwell upon. Better to go back inside, find Sara, and act like she’d never witnessed that embrace.

And try to pretend she didn’t want that for herself.

3

“An unlikely place for a meeting. But since you’re here—” Geoffrey stood next to him, crossing his arms and looking at the spectacle before them.

“I’d say this is the perfect place,” Graeme answered.

The midday sun shone down on a courtyard filled with people . . . and flowers. Lots and lots of flowers.

“What will we do with all of these wreaths?” the earl said, shaking his head.

Graeme looked at the pile that was becoming larger every moment. Though he’d been to a May Day celebration before and was as glad for spring as anyone, he couldn’t answer Geoffrey’s question. It did seem like an overabundance of floral wreaths. “You English do have strange customs.”

But Geoffrey wasn’t listening. Graeme followed his gaze and spied Lady Sara on her knees, laughing over a pile of orchids.

“Everyone deserves this,” the earl said.

“This?”

Geoffrey spread his arms to indicate the courtyard. “The security we enjoy here.”