Chapter Seven
Sitting in the carriage alone and stewing over the earl was ridiculous.
She was getting on her own nerves now. But she had to make a point.
Was she in danger or not? She did recall some of the names; there were Grant, Ross, and Munroe names on that list and they would pass through each of their lands in order.
And she didn’t want to spend the next several days cooped up in a carriage no matter how luxurious.
After about an hour and once she settled herself, she tapped on the carriage roof. It came to a stop almost immediately.
She didn’t wait for the door to be opened for her, rather opened it and hopped out, nearly tripping on her skirts. She straightened and smoothed her skirt.
The earl trotted to her but said nothing. So she lifted her chin and said, “My lord, I should like to ride Catriona. Will you help me mount her?”
His mouth opened slightly with a curl, and then he closed it.
He dismounted and untied her horse from the back of the carriage and then reached out his hand to her.
She took it and then strong hands encircled her waist. The pressure as his hands tightened when he lifted her sent wicked sensations through her.
Her breath caught in her throat once she was above him and caught him staring at her with a peculiar expression.
It wasn’t quite anger, certain not joviality, but his eyes darkened as he continued to stare at her.
Her gaze flicked down to his mouth which was parted slightly and his lips curled into a faint smile.
“Are you seated well, Lady Agnes?”
His voice was like silk on her skin. She shivered for a moment wondering what that voice would be like in her ear. She shook the thought away. This was getting out of control.
Shifting on the saddle, she positioned herself for comfort, held the reins and horn, and nodded. “Aye, my lord, I am well seated and ready.”
With one more glance toward him she turned her thoughts from the vision of him with his honey-colored eyes, and broad, leather-clad shoulders and thick chest, and urged Catriona forward.
Freedom. That was what riding on her own horse meant to her.
To be fully in the capacity to direct her movements was liberating, even if only in this small way.
Her parents had controlled sending her to Stirling, her uncle had controlled her time at the castle, and now the earl controlled the result of her uncle’s scheming.
She was irritated with the lot of them, but she could have this one piece of independence, and she would take full advantage.
The earl, to his credit, did not force her from her horse or tell her when she would need to rest. She determined each time she needed to rest and relieve herself. He for the most part left her alone, so she took in the beautiful country around her.
Flat plains gave way to rocky cliffs and pops of heather on the mountains in the distance.
They galloped along the edge of Loch Ness, and she grinned to herself about the stories she’d been told about the most famous monster in all of Scotland.
Och, she was sure her Bregdi could give that old Loch Ness monster a run for its money.
Her days were filled with living in the moment of enjoying the beautiful countryside and her nights were filled with increasingly vivid dreams of the man who mostly rode quietly beside her. He appeared to be lost amongst his own thoughts, so she carried on lost in her own.
On the morning of the day they were to arrive at Inverness, he lingered a little longer after hoisting her atop Catriona. After, he mounted his horse and rode alongside her.
“My lord, is aught amiss?”
He blinked a couple of times and said, “You have surprised me, Lady Agnes.”
She had? “How so, my lord?”
“You have ridden for days on end and with no complaint. I do not know any other lady who would have done so.”
“It is the only freedom I have, my lord. I did not choose this path.”
He paused for a moment. “I know you have not. And you have not ranted or portrayed victim of your circumstance. I have noticed you staring off about the countryside and smiling.”
His quiet contemplation had clearly been about her, at least for part of the time, and she hadn’t realized.
“I have been recounting some of the stories I have been told over the years about the legends around this part of the country.”
“Which ones?” he asked appearing genuinely interested.
“I wondered if the sea creature of Loch Ness would win in a battle with our Bregdi.”
When he smiled and his dimples appeared, she was transfixed. He had an air of power about him, but he did not abuse it. She’d seen plenty of other people puff themselves up because of their title undeservedly, and even in her uncle’s case do the same without the title.
But this man was different. He’d not badgered her to see his side of the situation over the past days, rather, kept watch over her, but did not try to interfere with her. She admired him for that.
“We have some legends of our own at Mugdock Castle,” he said. “Would you like to hear about them?”
“Aye, my lord, I would very much.”
He told her of a gray lady who roamed the halls of the castle in search of her lost bairn. “Mugdock Castle is built on the ruin of a much older place, said to have existed long before the Gaels moved here and farmed the land for their own.”
“Have you seen her?”
“Aye, that I have when I was a wee lad myself.”
“Tell me about it, please,” she said and shifted a little so she could see him better.
“I was about seven or eight summers and had been sent to my chamber for stealing sweet buns from the kitchen.”
She could almost envision this beautiful wee lad with a mop of curly brown hair being scolded by the cook.
“Were ye not stealthy as a lad then, my lord?”
“I held my own. Are you saying you were never caught taking something you wanted?”
“Aye, I am saying just that. I would be in and out of that kitchen before the cook could turn around. I’m saying I’m stealthy and quick,” she said with a smile.
His smile mirrored her own and she realized they were staring at one another again. Not that she minded, but one moment they could be arguing and the other like this.
“And so you were sent to your chamber hopefully with your sweet bun.”
“Alas, that was confiscated, but aye, I was on my way to accept my punishment when I saw a shadowy image walking toward me. The hallway leading to the children’s chambers was long and so I was on one end and this figure approached from the opposite end.”
“What did you do?”
“I did what any young lad would do. I froze,” he said and laughed. “The hair stood on the back of my neck as I watched this thing come toward me, seeming to look straight at me and just before it reached me, it disappeared.”
“My lord, did you tell anyone?”
“I believe I would like you to call me William when ’tis just us, Lady Agnes.”
His words were unexpected. That privilege was reserved for those betrothed or married and they were neither. But she would confess to herself, she’d wanted to call him by his given name since the moment she met him.
“Very well, William. And I believe you are trying to change the subject.”
His smile disappeared when she said his name but returned with her accusation.
“That was it, that was the end of the story.”
“I do not believe you told no one.”
“It is the truth. You are the first person I have ever shared my encounter with the Gray Lady.”
The whole conversation had become so personal and intimate she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
“Then I thank you for sharing it with me,” she said.
“Did it meet your standards for unusual creatures?” he asked with one brow cocked.
It took her a moment to realize what he was saying. “Och! You fibbed! You have never seen a ghost,” she said and couldn’t help but laugh at the way he now sat straighter in his saddle and brushed invisible dust from his arms.
He then placed his arm across his chest and bowed.
One thing was for sure: he had an infectious sense of humor she’d not expected.
Aye, upon closer inspection, there was much more to this man than she’d ever imagined.
She would need to be mindful, lest she find herself at risk of letting her feelings get the best of her and making a complete and utter arse of herself.
*
William loved the banter between them. He’d been considering her over the past few days, watching the various expressions cross her lovely face, as though she were having complete conversations internally.
He’d come to the realization he wanted to be part of them and know what could make her smile so freely or draw her brows together while staring off at a distant mountain.
For some unaccountable reason, he wanted to be a part of her sphere.
Truth be told, he’d never been one to sneak sweets from the kitchen. He preferred to use charm to fill his belly with delicious creations by one kitchen hand in particular who could not resist his compliments. By the time he was twelve, she would automatically set some aside for him.
Agnes had not invited him to address her informally as he had, but he would wait to see if she did.
The sound of his name on her lips was pleasing.
Those lips. The ones he’d begun dreaming about every night that he wanted to taste.
Her neck he wanted to kiss. Her body he wanted to caress and pleasure.
Aye, he was already in it too deep for his liking, but he was powerless to fight the rushing desire she instilled in him whenever he thought of her.
Each night he would pleasure her until neither could stand it any longer, only to wake in the morning alone and unsatisfied.
But she was a lady.
And as a lady, she was not available unless he was ready to make that kind of commitment to her and her family.