Page 91

He leaned over and warmed his hands by the fire. “Has it worked?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Has it worked? What your grandfather intended for you? He wanted to give you courage and help you see more of the world, aye?”

Minerva stared into the flames. “Yes, I think it has. I cannot claim to be cured, but this has made me hungry for more. I cannot imagine returning to London and living the same life that I did.” She shook her head to herself. “My grandpapa was a clever man, but I did not anticipate a journey to Scotland could do such a thing for me.”

“What sort of life do you anticipate living?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I had not quite thought that far ahead.” She twisted to eye him. “What of you?”

“What of me?”

“Will you embrace your wealth?”

He chuckled. “That sounds a little like an order.”

“One would think a man who worked so hard for such a thing would take great pleasure in having achieved so much.”

Lachlan chucked an extra piece of wood on the fire. “It has taken some getting used to,” he admitted.

“What was your childhood like?”

He hesitated, blowing out a long breath. “Hard work. Not very fun. There were times I enjoyed the farming side of it—working with the animals—that sort of thing. But it was mostly just hard labor. We went hungry a lot.”

“I am sorry.” She could not even imagine. Another thing this journey had brought her was the chance to meet people who were entirely different from her. Yes, what she had been through had been traumatic and painful but at least she had enjoyed the comfort of wealth and good family around her.

He lifted a shoulder. “It is in the past.”

“I know better than anyone it is not easy to escape the past.”

He stood, abruptly ending the conversation. Perhaps he was ashamed of his past, but she wished he would speak about it more openly. A man who had worked his way up from nothing had little to be ashamed of.

“We should rest for the night. I have laid out some blankets in the barn but…”

“But?”

“It shall be cold, lass.”

Understanding dawned on her. “We shall need to sleep together,” she finished for him.

“I am not trying to be ungentlemanly, I hope you believe that. I would never take advantage.”

A tiny flutter of disappointment lingered in her chest. After that kiss the other night, she had rather hoped for a repeat. She wanted new experiences, and that kiss had certainly been one.

They settled for the night, and Lachlan wrapped his firm arms about her, making her feel tiny yet protected. The warmth from his chest seeped into her body, and thankfully, the exhaustion from the day would carry her off to sleep in no time, she was certain of that, despite the wind that seeped into the old building and hard ground beneath her. It didn’t stop her trying to watch him in the gloom through heavy lids, though. She wanted more from Lachlan Sinclair—more kisses, more information, more insight into his life.

More Lachlan, she supposed with a sigh. That was all she wanted.

Chapter Nine

“Stay here a wee while, lass.” Lachlan motioned for Minerva to remain with the horses outside the cottage. There was no guarantee they would find accommodation in this wee village, but if the old couple could not spare a room as they were known to do for many visitors, he imagined he could find someone else to take them in.

Lord knows, they could do with a roof over their heads for the night. Though Minerva revealed few signs of fatigue, she had to be as tired as he. Although, maybe she had slept better than he had. Lying with her in his arms was a sweet mixture of torture and bliss. He’d been aware of every breath, every movement of her body. Even every flutter of her eyelids in the dark. He grimaced to himself. Whatever she said about lack of interest, there would be a man out there one day who would get to do such a thing every night.

He gritted his teeth. He already hated that man.

After knocking swiftly on the door, he waited a few more moments while Minerva sent him anxious looks. He heard voices—male and female—no doubt the elderly couple whom he had been informed might loan the spare room for the night. It sounded as though they were arguing. That did not bode well.