Eight Hunting Lyons (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Chapter Seven

T he ensuing days passed uneventfully, and Lucas was pleased about his decision to take the coastal road to Edinburgh.

The air had been bone dry for several days now, but their ride was comfortable due to the wind blowing off the North Sea. “Holmes,” he said, banging on the roof of the coach, “pull up here.”

They were close to Berwick and would easily reach it well before dusk. What harm would there be in stopping for an hour or two to stretch their legs and enjoy the exquisite view of the water? They had not stopped since their noonday meal, and it was time to give Posy a little run.

Most of all, Lucas was eager to show Beatrix this unforgettable sight of the North Sea in all its azure splendor. She would also enjoy the beauty of their wild surroundings. They were close to Scotland, as anyone could tell by the rugged shape of the landscape. Rock cliffs had now replaced the gentler rolling hills and flower-dotted meadows seen throughout much of England.

Even the plants were hardier here in the north, growing wild and thriving despite the elements of nature constantly being thrown at them. The colors of these hardy plants were spectacular, pinks and lavenders mixed in with occasional bursts of orange and blue.

Beatrix poked her head out the window, her eyes wide in appreciation. “The sunset must be splendid here.”

“Aye, lass. I wish we could stay so I could show it to ye as thoroughly as I would like, but the road is rough in these parts and not to be traveled after dark.”

But the sun was still shining brightly, and this splendid overlook was as good a place as any to rest the horses as well as themselves. Lucas opened the door to their coach and hopped down. “Beatrix, would ye care to take a hike with me? I have a need to stretch my legs. I am sure ye could do with a walk, too.”

“I would love to explore this place. I’ve spent the past hour with my nose to the window, gasping at the majesty of this scenery. May I, Aunt Harriet?”

Lady Rochester was seated beside her and had been sleeping for most of the ride, but she stirred awake now that they had stopped. “Very well, but do not go far. These cliff trails can be dangerous.”

Lucas held out his hand to Beatrix. “I will no’ let ye come to harm.”

He had spent much of this day seated opposite Beatrix and was eager to have a moment alone with her now that they were nearing the end of their journey.

Poseidon sat up on his pink pillow and barked.

“Did ye think I was going to forget ye, laddie?” Surprisingly, he had grown quite fond of the little pug. Lucas took him into his arms. “Will ye miss me once we reach Edinburgh?”

Poseidon licked his hand.

Lucas gave the wee beastie a scratch behind the ears. Yes, he was growing quite attached to him. He was such a little thing but full of swagger and pride.

Poseidon had spent much of the past few days comfortably ensconced on his lap, his front paws against the window as he imitated Beatrix in looking out across the North Sea. The little pug had taken to sitting on his lap at suppertime, too. He had grown wary of strangers since the incident with those two thieves who had tried to harm him and Beatrix.

Och, his own heart still ached over it.

Beatrix graced him with one of her dimpled smiles as he helped her down. “I had no idea this part of England was so pretty.”

“It is, lass. There are several good trails, but I’ll want ye to hold onto me because yer aunt is right about these cliff walks. They can be dangerous if ye’re not careful.” He lifted Poseidon and turned the pug’s scrunched face to him. “Are ye listening to me, Posy? Ye’ll either be in my arms or on a tether. I canno’ have ye running to the edge. I know the sea is yer realm, but the fall off those heights will kill ye. So, there will be no leaping into the water after yer sea nymphs. I’ll need yer promise on that.”

Posy barked and licked his nose.

Beatrix giggled. “Do you think we will see whales or dolphins at this time of day?”

He loved the way her eyes now brightened with excitement. She had been so quiet these past few days. It had worried him. “Aye, lass. Quite possible.”

He should have shot those two villains dead when he had the chance.

He wished he had.

“I wore these travel boots,” Beatrix said, sticking out one foot to show him. “Do you think they will do for our purposes?”

“Aye. We will no’ be taking the more dangerous climbing trails.” He was pleased Beatrix was now engaging him in conversation and seemed eager for the walk. Her smile also seemed more natural and no longer strained or forced.

It eased his heart to see a little of her lovely exuberance return.

Posy barked excitedly as a flock of geese flew overhead.

“Och, I canno’ have ye chasing after them either.” Lucas placed a tether on Posy before allowing him out of his arms.

Since Holmes had hopped down from his driver’s perch, he handed Posy to the jovial man while he assisted Lady Rochester down.

He next lifted out the basket of food prepared for them at the coaching inn where they’d had their noonday meal. Beatrix helped him with the smaller bundles, the blankets, and linens that were also packed for them.

They worked together to set it all out for her aunt.

Lucas enjoyed this moment with Beatrix more than he should have. All they had done was unfold the blanket and put out the table linens, but they had done it together, and she had taken pleasure in these small tasks.

Having seen her vulnerable and hurting so badly these past days, his guts were now twisted raw, and every smile out of her touched his heart.

She brought out his protective instincts.

His possessive instincts as well.

In truth, he would behave like an enraged jungle cat if anyone tried to hurt this lass ever again. He wanted to swallow her up in his arms and hold her for always. Her aunt would have something to say about it if he dared. Nor would Beatrix’s father be too pleased to learn of these strong feelings he harbored for his daughter.

Lucas did not care.

He was wild for this girl, and no one was going to take her from him, especially that fool Greenock.

Had Lord MacGlory truly made a devil’s bargain with the man?

Not that Lucas cared what plans had been made for Beatrix because he would see them undone if they were not to her liking.

The only one whose opinion mattered was hers.

However, he could not be certain what she felt, for she had withdrawn inside herself after that nasty incident and was only beginning to come out of her protective shell now.

He glanced at the lovely girl. “Would ye care to eat first or walk?”

“Walk first, please.” She held her face to the sun and spread her arms out as the warm summer wind enveloped her and loosened a few curls from their pins. “Aunt Harriet, would you mind?”

“Do as you wish, Beatrix. I shall not accompany you. Holmes will attend to me in the meanwhile. Set out our basket, Holmes. You and I shall share a glass of cider while we wait for the young ones to expend themselves. As for me, the jostling and bumping has put my spine quite out of alignment.”

Holmes’s eyes widened in obvious horror. “M’lady, I shall endeavor to be more careful.”

Beatrix’s aunt shook her head. “No, you were not at fault. Getting us to Edinburgh was a priority, and you have done a grand job considering the circumstances. It is not your fault the roads are so badly kept up or…” she said with a smile, “that I am so old.”

“Never that, m’lady. Your smile still has the power to charm any man.”

Her aunt blushed. “Nonsense.”

Lucas winked at Beatrix.

She cast him another of her dimpled smiles.

Och, but her smile was like sunshine upon his soul.

How did Bessie Dove-Lyon know she would fire his blood as no other lass ever had? How could she know Beatrix would be the one to capture his heart? The old woman seemed to have this keen sense when it came to him and his brothers, for hadn’t Cheyne and Matthew fallen just as hard for their wives upon first meeting them?

He ran a hand through his hair and stifled a laugh. A year ago, the three of them had been bachelors. Only the youngest, John, had married earlier.

Now all three of his brothers were married.

He was the lone holdout.

However, he knew if Beatrix loved him, he would not hesitate to take the leap. Hadn’t he told her as much? “Come along, Lady Beatrix. You as well, Poseidon.”

He took Beatrix’s hand. “The walk can be steep in spots. I’ll need to keep a firm hold of ye, lass. Canno’ have ye tripping and falling.”

But it was not quite the truth.

Yes, he did not want her falling. But she was agile and hardly in any danger. He just liked the feel of her hand in his, that touch of skin to skin. Hers was soft and delicate. His was rougher, for he was used to working with his hands whenever he could.

He enjoyed physical exertion, especially since his job often kept him at a desk for much of the day. But not always. He enjoyed those moments when he was off at a building site or shipyard or a working farm and could roll up his sleeves and partake in the toil.

He had explained this need for physical work to Lord MacGlory. This was his way of understanding how a business operated beyond the profit and loss set down on paper. But it was not quite true. He had only to look in a man’s eyes to know whether his business would fail or succeed. However, he would never get away from his Edinburgh office if he did not make it a point to step out into the fields.

“We’ll be stopping in Berwick tonight,” he said as they strolled along one of the safer paths since Beatrix was not dressed for serious climbing. She looked lovely, as always, even though her travel gowns were practical and sturdy rather than elegant.

They were well made, of course.

Quite finely designed to show off her best attributes, although to his way of thinking, the lass was splendid in every way and did not need fancy designs to bring out the shapeliness of her body.

It did not take them long to reach the cliff overlook at the top of their climb. They stood together in silence until she finally broke it. “I have read about Berwick in history books. It is an interesting town with a bit of a dark history,” she remarked, grabbing hold of the skirt of her gown to keep the wind from whipping it around her body.

The wind blew hard against them both as they stood watching the waves with their white, foamy crests crashing against the rocky shore below.

He nodded. “It is a border town, so it has changed hands countless times between Scottish and English rule over the centuries. No matter how many times it was ravaged and pillaged, it always came back. There is a strength of spirit in Berwick’s residents. They are always striving to rebuild, to hope, and look to the future. It is the Scottish influence on them.”

“I think there must be strength in all Scots,” she said, her smile impish. “Or is it just stubborn pride and infuriating obstinance? You do have a reputation for being thickheaded.”

He laughed. “Aye, Beatrix. I canno’ deny it.”

“Will we have time to walk through the town later today? Or perhaps before we set off for Edinburgh in the morning?”

“If ye wish.” He studied her as she stared back over the water, the happiness on her face unmistakable. How could Lord MacGlory have abandoned his treasure of a child?

He could not stop looking at her.

There was enchantment in her expression and a vibrancy to her eyes. They had lost a little of their sparkle after the unfortunate incident, becoming shadowed and wary. But she was regaining the innocent joy he had found so beautiful as she now stood beside him on the cliff.

The vast expanse of sea shimmered before them as the sun fell across it.

But it paled to Beatrix’s splendor.

Perhaps this was why poets went on about women sparkling like diamonds. Beatrix was a vision of loveliness. Her gown, a soft, dove gray, picked up the gray of her eyes and accentuated the blue in them, as well.

She stole his breath away every time he looked at her.

Even now, his heart was beating faster, as it would with the thrill of a first encounter. He had been in close quarters with Beatrix for over a week now, and that heady feeling had not faded.

It galled him that Bessie had recognized she was a perfect match for him.

He had not met Beatrix until that morning at the Lyon’s Den. It seemed a lifetime ago. And yet, he felt as though he had always known her.

Perhaps his heart had known her and simply been waiting for her to appear.

Anam charaid.

The love of his soul.

This was going to be a problem if her father had truly promised her to that dunce, Greenock.

Lucas had no intention of giving Beatrix up.

If she wanted him, then he was ready to move heaven and earth to have her.

Why should he not put himself forward and offer for Beatrix’s hand in marriage? He had excellent connections. He was a Lyon of Mar and had the birthmark on his buttocks to prove it. Indeed, the red splotch in the shape of a lion was the mark of every Lyon. He and his brothers all carried it.

But he knew a birthmark to prove his lineage would not overcome the biggest hurdle to gaining her father’s approval. The problem remained—he was not a peer, nor was he ever likely to become one by inheriting the dukedom of Mar. It would require the death of his two elder brothers and any sons they might sire. Cheyne already had a son, a newborn babe hardly a few months old.

Lucas did not wish for any bad fate to befall them. No, he wished only good health and happiness for all of his family.

Beatrix inhaled lightly and squeezed his hand, distracting him from his thoughts. “Look, Lucas! There is something moving in the water.”

She began to hop excitedly beside him. “Is it a whale? Oh, there! I think it is an entire family of whales.”

He chuckled and kept tight hold of her hand. “Aye, lass. Aren’t they a magnificent sight?”

She turned to face him. “Everything is magnificent about this moment. Do you feel it, Lucas? This contentment. This sheer perfection.”

“Aye, lass. I do.”

When would they ever have such a day again?

A cooling breeze rippled off the water to swirl around them as they stood on the heights.

The sun shone down upon them and glistened across the waves. The sea was bluer than Lucas had ever seen it and clear enough to provide an unimpeded view of the pod of whales gliding beneath its surface.

Beatrix had her mouth slightly open as she stared in utter fascination.

He mostly kept his gaze on her.

Anam charaid.

Yes, she was that.

As they watched, one of the larger leviathans surfaced and blew a spume of water out of its spout.

Beatrix squealed in delight. “Do you think he noticed us and decided to put on a show?”

“Perhaps, lass.” Why should not all creatures be enchanted with this girl? She was the loveliest part of this day.

Poseidon wagged his little rump and barked at the whales, unable to contain his excitement. Lucas kept a firm hold of his tether, tugging him back each time he skittered to the edge to announce his dominion over these creatures which were a thousand times his size.

Beatrix turned once more to look up at him, happiness shining in her eyes. “Lucas, thank you for sharing this with me. I have never seen anything so beautiful.”

“Lass,” he said in a raw whisper, wanting so badly to draw her up against his body and crush his lips to hers. She was the beauty in this moment. The sun, the wind, the water, and majestic gray whales all paled next to her. “It is my pleasure.”

He tucked a finger under her chin to hold her gaze to his.

She closed her eyes. “I am making a wish.”

“What are ye wishing for?”

“I dare not say.”

“Why? Is it too sinful?” He only meant to tease her, for he could not imagine this girl as anything other than innocent.

“It is, Lucas. Well, perhaps not sinful by your standards, but not anything I ought to be wishing to do.”

Her eyes fluttered open as she spoke, the blue in them seeming to melt into the blue of the sky. Her lips were the pink of the windblown flowers that grew in abundance on this outcropping. “What is it ye wish, Beatrix?”

He knew what he would wish for in this idyllic moment, in this perfect slice of a day. In the heat of the sun shining down on them and the roar of the waves pounding against the shore.

She took a deep breath. “It will not come true if I tell you. Perhaps it is for the best that it doesn’t.” She inhaled again and then let her breath out slowly. “I wished that you would kiss me on this perfect spot amid this perfect day. Would you consider it, Lucas?”

He gave a raw laugh. “Blessed saints, Beatrix. It is a terrible idea.”

Her cheeks turned red. “Oh, I see. Of course. This is why I should not have told you. Because…what you must think of me…that is, I just assumed…because men…I am so sorry.”

“Dinna be sorry, lass. It is a terrible idea because it is one that has been preying on my mind throughout this journey. Ye’re an angel. I have ached to put my lips to yours from the moment I met ye. How can ye not know it?” He drew her up against him, for this burning need to kiss her had grown unbearable. “I canno’ promise ye anything beyond this kiss.”

She nodded. “I am not asking for anything more.”

In truth, he would give her anything she wished because he was already lost to her. He was so far gone in love with this lass, he would give up everything without need for her to request it. “Verra well. One kiss. Is it yer first?”

She nodded.

“Och, then it must be special. Close yer eyes, Beatrix.”

She held her breath and shut her eyes.

He stifled his laughter, not merely for her obvious innocence but also for the way his heart was responding. Puffed with pride. Touched to the core. He had yet to kiss her, and he already knew her lips would taste of heaven. “Breathe, lass. It is permitted.”

She released her breath with a light groan. “Oh, Lucas. I have no idea what I am supposed to do.”

“Ye’ll be just fine. Let me do the work. Ye need only follow my lead.” He brought his mouth down on hers and pressed lightly upon her lips, careful to keep the kiss gentle despite the savage heat coursing through him.

He did not want to scare her off with his ravenous longing.

Give me strength.

Liquid fire coursed through his veins, but he held the flames in check. This was her first time with a man, and he dared not overwhelm her.

Nor did he intend to be tepid, for he could never be indifferent to this girl who turned his body molten.

He slowly began to deepen the kiss.

Och, he had to stop thinking each step and just go with what felt right. But she meant so much to him, he wanted their first time to be perfect.

Fool, it will no’ be if ye measure every step.

He set aside his thoughts and simply allowed the heat building up inside of him to flow naturally through his body.

Lord, it came at him like a wall of flames.

He lifted her up against him, drawing her tight to him so that her feet were off the ground and the length of their bodies was seared to each other. He felt the plumpness of her bosom against his hard chest and ached to explore her lovely mounds with his hands and lips.

Not this first time.

Some restraint was required, or he would scare her off.

His tongue teased along the seam of her lips to draw them open. He delved in when she responded, tasting the sweet velvet of her mouth.

She moaned and slipped her arms around his neck, leaning into him so that there was no space between their bodies, not a particle of distance between them as their legs entwined and arms held each other in a desperate clench.

He felt the wild beat of her heart.

Blessed saints, she was made for him.

He could tell by the sweet heat of her skin that she was aroused by him.

Was it any different for him?

He poured all of his heart and longing into their first kiss, for it represented so much more than the wild press of two mouths or the hot touch of two bodies.

His was stripped raw, no barriers remaining.

He loved this girl.

She was his heart and the light in his soul.

Mo anam.

My soul.

She had to be his, even if her father had betrothed her to Greenock.

He could not bear to think of it.

“Beatrix,” he whispered, feeling her body shudder with a desire they both felt. “Lass, we canno’ go further.”

“I know. Oh, Lucas,” she said breathlessly, “I am trying so hard to hold back my feelings.” She still had her arms around his neck while the length of her body remained pressed to his, the softness of her breasts such sweet perfection against his chest.

He kissed her again.

“Lucas,” she whispered into his mouth as he cupped her breast and gently ran his thumb over its responsive tip.

He eased back to look at her. “Och, lass. Ye’re so beautiful. I want ye so badly.” He kissed the swell of her breast, wishing he could taste her skin and not the sturdy fabric protecting them from his lips.

But the soft barrier of her gown drew him back to his senses.

“Beatrix,” he moaned, his voice ragged with desire. He wanted more. So much more. He wanted all of her. “My lovely Beatrix.”

He rained light kisses upon her closed eyes, her forehead, her soft cheeks.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “You are lovely, too.”

He laughed. “Nay, lass. I am a big, ugly ox.”

“You are too handsome for words.”

He caressed her cheek. “I should no’ have touched ye. I should no’ have kissed ye. But I am glad I did.”

“So am I. Lucas, I–”

He stopped her mouth with another kiss, this one short and meant to prevent further discussion. It was safer if they made no promises to each other, at least not until he had gotten a sense of her father’s intentions for her.

Yet, it felt wrong not to say anything when her innocent kisses had him in flames, and he knew she was meant for him.

She cast him a hesitant smile when he ended the kiss. “I suppose now we go our separate ways, both of us with our curiosity satisfied. Your kisses were wonderful, and I shall never forget them…or you. Do you suppose there is any chance Lord Greenock—”

“No, he’s a pompous dolt and will never stir yer heart.” He eased her out of his embrace and raked a hand through his hair. “Beatrix, I dare not tell ye what is in my own heart.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll be needing to speak to yer father first.”

She cast him a breathless look. “Why would you speak to him?”

“Why do ye think?”

“Then I did not imagine it. You were feeling the magic between us, too. Lucas…would you marry me if he allowed it?”

“Aye, lass. I would. That cursed Bessie knew this when she matched us.”

The apple of her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “What if I told you I felt the same?”

He shook his head. “Dinna tell me that. No. Dinna think it or hope for it until we know yer father’s intentions.”

“Why would he stand in our way if he knew we were a love match?”

“Ye do not know yer father as I do. I am not saying he would stand between us. Nor would I let him if I felt ye truly loved me. Ye know I am a stubborn Scot and would fight for ye to my last breath. But it is yer feelings that concern me. Ye have to be certain I am worth the trouble.”

“I see.” She nodded. “I truly do see. You are concerned that if my father disapproves of our match, then I will be forced to choose between the two of you. I must either stand by my father and abide by his wishes or be ready to have him shut me out of his life forever if I go against his wishes. He will not allow me to defy him without dire consequences.”

“Aye, lass. This is the gist of it. So, I dare not push ye to make any choices yet. Let us see what happens. But know that ye will never lose me, no matter what ye decide.”

She shook her head. “You are wrong, Lucas. You will move on and make a life for yourself with another young woman. I would want you to do this. Do not be like my father. He is so stuck in the past he cannot see the good, loving people in front of his nose.”

“I know.” He ran his thumb lightly along the graceful line of her jaw and then turned to look out over the water before he gave in and kissed her again. Was he foolish to hold back? Why should he not simply grab this girl and take her to the first kirk they came across once they crossed into Scotland?

He was reluctant to push her for more reasons than her father’s response. She mattered to him more than anything, but how could she make a proper decision when she was so young and inexperienced?

His kisses may have swept her away just now, but he was her first and only. What if she responded this way when Greenock tried to kiss her?

Och, he could not bear to think of it.

She could no’.

She would no’ be able to stomach his touch.

Yet, it was no’ fair of him to deny her of all choice.

“What should I do about Lord Greenock?” she asked, seeming to follow the path of his thoughts.

“It is only fair that ye get to know him,” he said, his heart feeling as though it was gripped in a vise. “Even though I think he is a monumental arse, ye may like him.”

She laughed. “I think you would lose complete respect for my good sense if I did.”

He cast her a wry smile. “Aye, but this is about yer happiness. I am not saying ye should be kissing him or any other men. But ye have so little knowledge of the world. Have ye attended any parties? Danced with anyone? Spoken to a man other than me?”

“Eligible bachelors, you mean?”

He nodded, watching as she began to nibble her lip. “Ye haven’t,” he answered for her when she remained silent. “This is another reason to wait before saying something to yer father.”

“So, he is not to know about my feelings for you?” She looked as though he had stuck a dagger through her heart. “Am I to pretend this never happened?”

“No, Beatrix. I hope ye will never forget our kiss. Nor will I ever forget it or you. Ye are in my heart. Do ye ken what it means for a Scot to fall in love?”

“Are you in love with me, Lucas?”

Bollocks.

Why could he not keep his mouth shut about his feelings? “I will no’ answer that question. Not yet, Beatrix.”

She inhaled sharply and looked up at him as though he had stabbed her again. “Have I misunderstood this discussion? Are you trying to let me down gently? Is this your polite way of telling me that you did not like our kiss? That you do not have serious feelings for me?”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Is this what ye got out of our conversation? Do ye think I am that sort of man? That I would kiss ye with all of my heart and soul and then leave ye?”

She rubbed her temples, now obviously confused and getting distressed. “I do not know what to think. I suppose this is your point. That I am new to this…to being with a man. That I was easily swept away by you because you were the first to come along. Forgive me if I have blown the significance of our kiss completely out of proportion.”

“Ye haven’t, lass.” He took her back in his arms. “I have no’ lied to ye about my feelings for ye. It would be so much easier if I dinna care. But I do. I care so much that it would destroy me if I knew I was the means of yer unhappiness. I know my mind. But do not rush to make up yers. I’ve had years of experience. Ye’ve had a minute and a half and only with me.”

“Lucas, answer me this. Would you ever stray in the marriage, assuming you were to marry me?”

He regarded her aghast. “We Lyons dinna stray from our vows. We are always faithful to the woman we take to wife.” He thumped on his chest. “If I gave ye my vow, it would be forever. No one could ever rip ye out of me.”

A smile teased at the corners of her lovely lips. “Do all Scots talk this way about love?”

He caressed her cheek again and grinned. “Do ye mean to ask if we are all arrogant, possessive apes? Perhaps. I never thought I was, but ye bring it out in me. This is also why I dare not rush ye. Our marriage must be solid and true. I saw Cheyne almost destroyed by wanting to please our parents and thinking to marry the wrong girl. That decision tore our family apart for a time.”

“Oh, Lucas. I am so sorry.”

“This is the only reason for my hesitation. How can ye be sure these feelings ye hold for me are true? What if ye decide ye favor Greenock? What if yer father is so against our marriage that ye could never be happy with me? I would not condemn ye to a life of misery. To love ye means to see ye the happiest ye can be.”

She cast him a defeated smile. “I do not expect to feel about anyone the way I feel about you. But I will see my father and learn what he has in mind for me. I will do this for you because I want you to be secure in the knowledge that I love you just as fiercely as you love me. Lucas, truly. I know this is not a girlish infatuation. It feels too real.”

He kissed her again because he could not get this hunger for Beatrix out of him. He wasn’t certain when or how it arose to become this insatiable craving. But what did it matter? She had claimed his heart, and there was nothing to be done about it.

He was hers, forever.

So why did he not simply shut up about it and claim her as his betrothed?

Well, he knew why.

He was not about to tip his hand before he understood what Lord MacGlory intended for his daughter.

He knew his own mind.

Beatrix probably knew hers, as well.

But it was not fair of him to have her battling her father within hours of her arrival. She had spent her entire life longing for his company and deserved this time together with him. For Beatrix’s sake, he ought to have kept his heart to himself and given her the chance to forge a bond with her father.

He now worried that he would be the means to split father and daughter apart forever. Beatrix was too tenderhearted. She would feel her father’s disapproval to the depths of her soul, and it would leave a shadow on her heart.

Well, he had not shut up about his feelings for her.

It was done now, and he supposed it was better that she knew how he felt about her.

If her father tried to impose a match that was not to her liking, she had to know she could always turn to him, and he would protect her. “Ye need time to get to know yer father. Ye need time to experience parties and dances. Once ye have, if ye still want me…I am yours.”

And if she did not want him, then he would always be her first kiss, and no one could take that from him.

It was a prideful thing. No matter what happened once they reached Edinburgh, she would always know he had been the first to kiss her, and his kiss had been one of love.

He took her hand in his and immediately felt the rightness of it. “Are ye hungry, lass?”

He was not ashamed of loving her. Nor was he scared to take on her father if it came to that. But the last thing he wanted was a bloody fight and then have her regret her decision.

Well, there was also the chance her father would be delighted about her choice of him.

She nodded. “Yes, we ought to get back.”

They returned to the spot where they had set out their picnic and spent another idyllic half-hour munching on apples, cheese, and soft breads. Lucas stretched out on the grass, his hands propped behind his head, while Beatrix sat on a nearby fallen log. Posy climbed onto his stomach and curled atop him, thinking nothing of using him as a makeshift bed.

“My little darling adores you,” Lady Rochester murmured.

Lucas patted the pug’s head. “He’s a good fellow.”

“So are you, Lord Lyon,” she said, casting him a wry smile. “My Posy has a good sense about people. I’ve never seen him take to anyone as he has to you.”

Lucas gave him a generous scratch under his chin. “I have ye fooled, haven’t I, laddie?”

Posy licked his hand.

Beatrix tossed him another of her beautiful, dimpled smiles.

Lucas wanted to capture this moment in a bottle and seal it tight. One more day of travel after Berwick, and then they would reach Edinburgh. He sensed Lady Rochester would be an ally. So would his majesty, Poseidon.

If only Lord MacGlory would feel the same.

Lady Rochester took him aside as they prepared to ride on for Berwick.

Beatrix had already climbed into the carriage with Posy.

She took Lucas’s arm as they strolled a few steps away, so they were outside of Beatrix’s hearing. “Lord Lyon, I am not blind.”

“What is it ye think ye see, Lady Rochester?”

“Beatrix will break your heart.”

He was surprised, for he had expected the warning to be about him breaking her niece’s heart, and he was ready to assure her that he never would. “How will she do that?”

“The girl lives to please her father. She craves his affection and was euphoric when he sent for her. I know he is your employer, and you admire him greatly.”

He nodded. “Aye, I do.”

“But I see him as a monster. Oh, he has always been a perfect gentleman to me and my late husband, rest his soul. Perhaps he does not realize what he has done to Beatrix all these years. He has manipulated that sweet girl, throwing her crumbs of his affection and yet always holding his heart just out of her reach. Sometimes, I think he blames her for her mother’s death.”

“Why? What could a four-year-old child have to do with her dying?”

“Nothing, of course. But she is the image of her mother. He loves her for it and hates her for it as well. Time has not mellowed his feelings. This is why I call him a monster. He toys with Beatrix. He tosses her about like a rag doll. The result is that she is starved for his affection and now desperately seeks to gain his approval.”

“Do ye think she will accept Greenock just to please Lord MacGlory?”

“Yes, I fear it. She will convince herself it is the right thing to do because she wants so badly to earn his love.”

Aye, was this not the very discussion he’d had with Beatrix during their walk?

He raked a hand through his windblown hair. “I thought the marquess was a favorite of yers.”

“I do like Greenock.” She cast him a wry smile. “You have made your feelings clear about him. Does it have to do with the man himself? Or the fact that he has been matched to Beatrix?”

“Both,” he said.

“I thought it was a good match until I saw her with you.” She shook her head and sighed. “Let it play out and do not interfere, or you will lose everything. Your job, your reputation, and the girl. Beatrix will never go against her father’s wishes. If he wants Greenock for her, and you stand in the way, he will destroy you.”

He nodded. “Yer warning has been duly noted.”

She studied him a long moment. “But you are going to ignore it, aren’t you?”

“Aye.”

He loved Beatrix.

How could he do anything other than fight for her?