Page 14 of A Scandal In July
She’d dreamed of him. Well, not him specifically, but a tall, dark, handsome mystery man who would capture her heart and sweep her off her feet. He’d kept her company at night and featured in her most lurid daydreams.
Lenore bit her lip to hide her smile. Rhys had, technically, already swept her off her feet when he’d lifted her up on his shoulders. But if she was honest, he’d stolen her heart long before that, the first night she’d ever laid eyes on him.
“I don’t think even Prudence and Constance would have ordered a flag hidden down here,” she said. “Besides, the clue was for a well, not a cave. One of the other couples must have already been here and found it, while we were in the butterfly house.”
“On to the next clue, then,” Rhys sighed. “Which is closer, the folly, or the bridge?”
“The bridge.” Lenore ascended the steps without his help and pointed to a tree-lined path. “That leads to the track between Newstead and Trellech. The bridge is over the river that marks the border.”
“Let’s go then.”
The sun fell in dappled patches on the ground as they walked together beneath the trees, and a companionable silence settled between them. Lenore was constantly aware of him, but she felt entirely at ease in his company. She’d spent a great deal of time around men, porters who carried their equipment, sailors with whom she’d been shipwrecked, and a few of them had made her distinctly uncomfortable in the way their eyes had lingered on her body.
Rhys was a physically impressive specimen, but she felt safe with him. He was a man who’d provide protection, not a threat.
When they came to the road—little more than a well-used track—they turned and followed it until they reached the bridge that separated England and Wales.
Thanks to an ancient kingly decree, one member of the Davies clan and one member of the Montgomery family had to meet on this bridge on the day of the summer equinox and shake hands in a show of amity. Gryff, as the current Earl of Powys, and Maddie, Lenore’s cousin, had represented the two families a few years ago, and subsequently fallen in love.
Lenore had always thought the little stone bridge very pretty, and she stuck out her hand toward Gryff as they set foot upon it.
“What’s that for?” He glanced down at her palm with a frown.
“I know it’s not the equinox, but we should shake hands anyway. Just in case the universe needs more convincing that we Davies and Montgomerys really have set down our weapons.”
She sent him her most teasing, challenging look.
His dark eyes studied her face for a long, thrilling moment, then his large fingers wrapped around hers.
“What if shaking hands isn’t enough?” he murmured. “Perhaps we should kiss, to be really convincing.”
His gaze dropped to her lips and Lenore’s heart began to pound, but she forced herself to pull away. However much shewantedto kiss Rhys Davies, she refused to be an easy conquest, and showing her hand too early in the game would be foolish. If there was one thing she’d learned while stranded on that blasted island, it was that waiting for something was an excellent way to increase desire.
“After three weddings between our families in the last few years, how much more evidence do you think the universe needs?”
She turned away and made a great show of bending over the low stone wall to look for a flag. Rhys muttered something under his breath—hopefully a disappointed curse—and stalked to the opposite end of the bridge.
“We’ve been beaten to it,” he said. “Look.”
He bent and picked up something from the ferns. It was a purple silk flower.
“That’s from Harriet’s hat,” Lenore frowned. “It’s covered in flowers like that. She must have pulled it off and left it here as a sign that she and Morgan have already been here.”
“And presumably claimed the flag,” Rhys growled. “Ugh.”
“We’d better hurry to the next clue. It must be getting close to lunch time.”
Rhys checked his pocket watch. “You’re right. It’s already past noon. But we still have time to get to the folly before one o’clock. Come on.”
Rhys clearly knew the direction of the folly, because he started to follow the riverbank south, and Lenore smiled at the suspicion that he’d trespassed on Montgomery land on more than one occasion.
She trailed after him, enjoying the way the sun glinted off the rippling water and the swish of cornflowers and buttercups against her skirts.
After half a mile or so they branched off into the trees again, and the cool shade was a welcome relief. Lenore was no stranger to walking miles on foot, but perhaps they should have gone back for horses after all. She felt hot and sweaty, which probably wasn’t the best way to attract the man of her dreams.
With his handsome face, Rhys had always been inundated with female attention, and while she knew she was reasonably pretty, she was also wild and alarmingly self-sufficient. Her skin was unfashionably tanned after months beneath a harsh tropicalsun, and she had a regrettable number of freckles that no amount of powder could conceal.
Many men, she knew, preferred cool, serene beauties who looked like they needed rescuing. She was perfectly capable of rescuing herself and she refused to pretend otherwise.