It was her turn to scoff. “I suppose it’s kind that he thought of her a little.”
“No.” On this score, he wanted to be utterly clear. “He wasn’t kind.”
James’s voice reverberated off Invermere’s window glass. Lucy understood that he deeply disliked his uncle, yet she also heard a deep vein of pain he held inside him. Whatever unpleasantness had passed in his family, it seemed he’d inherited a burden along with a title.
“You need the funds from selling Invermere to pay the estate’s debts. That part I understand, but why the urgency?”
“Because there’s more. Reasons that have nothing to do with my uncle’s bloody title.”
Such bleakness came into his voice that Lucy’s own throat burned. She held still, determined to give him the time to gather his thoughts, hopeful that he would trust her enough to divulge whatever troubled him so.
He paced from one side of the room to the other and then back again, but just when he turned to her as if to explain, a sound in the hall drew their attention.
A whisperedshhfollowed by other murmured voices and a distinctly canine whine gave the eavesdropping staff away.
“We could talk elsewhere,” Lucy whispered to him. “A walk to the loch?”
A few clouds hid the sun, but it was still a temperate day, and going down to the loch was high on her list of things to do during her visit. Of course, her plan had been to sketch or take photographs, but that could wait for another day.
He stared at the door and nodded, then started across the room.
Lucy stopped him by planting herself in his path and pressing a hand against his waistcoat. The warmth of his body against her palm was oddly reassuring.
“We could climb out the window,” she whispered. “That way they won’t even know we’ve gone, and no one will think to follow.”
“Until we get so quiet, Mrs. Fox bursts in to salvage your propriety,” he teased in a low voice.
Lucy imagined Mrs. Fox as the protector of her chastity and rolled her eyes. Without waiting for his agreement, she crossed to the window and was pleased to find it lifted with very little effort and barely any sound.
She waved James over. “You should go first and assist me.”
“I’m starting to think you’ve done this before.” He smirked at her, but then obeyed and put a leg out the window. The man was so tall and the window so low that it was merely a matter of stepping over the sill and down to the ground. Lucy imagined attempting the same with her much shorter limbs and failing entirely.
James leaned in once he was out the window.“It’s easier if you put both legs over, balance on the sill, and I’ll lift you down.”
“Well, now I’m beginning to suspectyou’vedone this before, my lord.” While she spoke the words, she did as he suggested, planting her bottom on the windowsill and pivoting to swing her legs out. Through every movement, his hand was on her to keep her from falling.
Then she faced him, looking down into his handsome face, and he placed his hands on her waist.
She realized her breathing had gone shallow.
Even during a waltz, a man would only have one hand on her waist, the other clasping her hand.
Something about this moment, the way he touched her, felt unbearably intimate. And he felt it too if his tight grip and the flash of heat in his gaze were any indication.
“Brace your hands on my shoulders, Lucy.” The command in a raspy tone sent shivers up her legs, all the way to her center.
But, of course, he was being practical. She liked practical. She could be practical.
Reaching out, she placed one hand on each of his broad shoulders. He was not a man who would ever need to pad suits. Under her fingertips, his muscles bunched and flexed as he lifted her from the sill and lowered her down.
It took all of a moment, but Lucy held his gaze after her feet touched the ground.
“There may be a flaw in this plan,” he said, still whispering as if the staff might overhear.He stood so close, his breath feathered warmth against her skin.
“What’s that?”
“Do either of us know the way to the loch?”
