Page 94
Story: Lords, Ladies and Love
“What are you doing?”
“I imagine after a meal, I will not feel much like doing this.”
Her brow creased. “But what are you doing?”
“Making a bed.”
“This bed is big enough for the two of us.” She lowered her voice. “And we are meant to be married.”
“I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“But we…we slept together last night.”
And he’d be damned if he ever forgot that. But it could not happen again. Not when he did not trust himself to be so close to her. It had taken all his willpower not to draw her against him,kiss her until she was delirious, and strip her of her clothes. Poor lass probably had no idea how close to danger she was.
The voices outside grew louder. He grimaced. “What do you say to us waiting here a wee while longer until supper?”
She pressed a hand to her lips and giggled. “I think that is an excellent idea.”
At least they could avoid the arguing couple. It did not help him with his matter of being in far too close confines with her, however.
Chapter Ten
Though Minerva could not claim the wagon could match the family carriage for comfort, travelling on a simple wagon was preferable to spending more days riding horseback. Thank goodness he had managed to borrow one from one of the villagers. She suspected his reputation as a wealthy man had a lot to do with that generosity, not that he would admit it.
Mrs. Campbell waved vigorously from her doorway, and while her husband tried to turn away, Minerva saw her grab him by his arm and force him to wave too. Pressing her lips together, Minerva shook her head. “I think Mrs. Campbell shall miss us.”
“I do not think Mr. Campbell will.”
“I am not certain.” She gave the couple one last wave. “It means he is all alone with his wife though.”
“If that is what it is like to be married, I am glad I’m not.”
Minerva didn’t know how to respond to that. She had never really thought of marriage much at all until…well…she couldn’t really admit to that now, could she? That she had been thinking what it might be like to be a farmer’s wife? Or a rich Scotsman’s wife? She shook her head and focused on the passing scenery.
Seated next to Lachlan, the hard, wooden seat did little to protect her from every lump and ridge they encountered. However, being a passenger gave her the time to marvel at the landscape. The farther away from the village they travelled, the more dramatic the scenery became.
Mountains seemed to surround them like giants watching over the land. To the right, a loch spread almost as far as she could see, its deep blue color reflecting the mountains and fields behind it and creating a vista that made her feel practically invisible. They followed a vague path that showed the indents of horse hooves from whenever it last rained. It was the only way she knew they were still on a path at all, but Lachlan seemed to understand exactly where he was going.
“How is it you seem to know every part of Scotland?”
He chuckled. “Not every part. But I travelled these lands a lot as a lad. My father sold produce from his farm all over. There were many a day that I had to make this journey to the next village.”
“How does your family feel about your very different life now?”
“With a little bemusement, I think. Ma spends much time in England these days, taking the air by the sea.” He shrugged. “She deserves it.”
She eyed him, taking in his strong profile and firm jaw—the stubble on it a little thicker now and flecked with grey. There had been men in her life who had been richer and more well educated than Lachlan and who even spoke of honor and read about it and philosophized about it, but she suspected none could know the true meaning of it. Not like Lachlan. He had worked his whole life to better himself and to ensure that his family was looked after.New moneyor not, he was more gentleman than almost anyone she knew.
“You do not talk much of your home. Is it very grand?”
“Aye, I suppose it is. I bought it from a landowner who had significant debt. It came ready furnished, and I’ve done little to it.” He smirked. “It is hard to know what to do with a house like that.”
“Especially when you are used to living on a farm,” she commented. “But those sorts of houses can be homely, if you try. For example, my brother’s house has a wonderful library in which I used to escape. It was cozy and homely, despite its size. With grand houses, I find you must carve out your own space within them.”
“I forgot I was riding next to a lady who has no doubt experienced many of these houses.” He smiled. “I should have you visit and tell me what to do with the blasted place.”
“I would like that very much.” She gave a soft smile and glanced away at the scenery. She would like that very much, but would it even happen? After she had completed her task, she would have to return to London with haste to ensure her part was done. And with any luck, she would find out about her siblings’ progress.
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