Page 3 of One Forbidden Kiss with the Laird (The Cinderella Shepherd Sisters #2)

A t first she struggled to keep up with Mr Thomson’s long strides, her boots slipping on the slick grass and her cloak flapping around her legs.

The whipping wind and relentless rain did not seem to faze him or the energetic dog that scampered along by his side and she wondered how often they were out in weather such as this.

The sky was dark, heavy with clouds that promised even more rain, and a few times Selina stumbled, her foot catching on some unseen obstacle.

‘Here, take my arm,’ Mr Thomson said as she almost careened into the back of him. ‘The path is uneven.’

‘I did not realise we were on a path.’

She glanced at him and saw the hint of a smile.

It lit up his face, even though it was present for only a second.

He was an attractive man and as she moved closer to take his arm she felt her pulse quicken.

There was something terribly romantic about being caught in a storm with a handsome stranger, especially one who had been so concerned about her welfare.

She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and felt him fall into step with her, his pace finally slowing to match her own.

When she had run from the house half an hour earlier, desperate to get away from the suffocating atmosphere and the disdain of her stepmother and half-sister, she had not paid much attention to the route she had taken.

Now she realised how fortunate she was that Mr Thomson had approached her by the loch; the house was not visible in the darkness and she had no idea what direction they should be taking.

‘It must be fate,’ Selina murmured to herself, smiling quickly when Mr Thomson looked down at her. The words had been whipped away by the wind so she was certain he wouldn’t have heard her.

‘Did you say something?’

‘I was just thinking it was fortunate you came along when you did.’ She grimaced and looked down, glad the ripped material of her dress was hidden under the fold of her cloak. ‘I am not sure I would have been able to find my way back on my own.’

Mr Thomson nodded, his expression serious. ‘These hills can be dangerous, even to those of us who spent our childhoods chasing over the countryside. When the mist descends and obscures the natural landmarks it is easy to get turned around.’

‘It must have been an idyllic place to grow up. Spending your summers paddling in the loch and winters enjoying the snowfall.’

‘Idyllic would not be the right word to describe it,’ he said, no hint of humour now on his face.

Although their acquaintance had been short she could see how he changed when he spoke about this land that he obviously loved.

There was passion in his eyes and sincerity in his words.

‘I think this is the most beautiful place in the world. Granted, I have not travelled to every country, but I have seen the vast wildernesses of Canada and the rolling hills of northern England. Nothing compares to the beauty here in the Highlands.’

‘You have been to Canada?’

‘Aye.’

He did not elaborate, instead ducking his head against a particularly strong gust of wind and pulling Selina forward.

Surreptitiously she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

His manner was not exactly rude, more rough around the edges.

It was as if he knew how to interact in polite society, but had not done so for a long time.

She felt a surge of anticipation, relishing the challenge that was Mr Callum Thomson.

Before she could start to probe, to use her charm and her conversational skills to break open the shell Mr Thomson had erected around himself, he pointed ahead with his free arm.

‘Taigh Blath is just ahead.’

Selina frowned, squinting through the rain. ‘Taigh Blath?’

‘Loch View Lodge, if you prefer.’

‘Taigh Blath is the Scottish translation?’

‘No,’ he said sharply. ‘Taigh Blath is the name of the house. Sir William changed it when he bought the property, although everyone around here still calls it Taigh Blath. A sign on the door does not change the name of a place.’ He was holding his body tense and Selina got the impression it wasn’t only in an attempt to guard against the weather.

She wanted to ask him more about the name, about the history, about the obvious animosity he felt, but already he was pulling away from her.

‘Taigh Blath,’ she repeated quietly. ‘I will remember that.’

‘I trust you can make it the rest of the way yourself?’

She hesitated, wondering if he would offer to accompany her to the door if she asked him to, but, sensing his reluctance, she nodded. ‘I will slip in the kitchen door.’

Her hand was still in the crook of his elbow and as he stepped away her fingers trailed down his arm, lingering for just a second on his hand. That same jolt she had felt earlier by the loch pulsed through her and for a moment Selina felt as though she could not breathe.

‘I wish you well, Miss Shepherd. Don’t go wandering at night on your own again.’

Before she could reply he spun and retreated into the darkness, disappearing so quickly that she had the sudden thought that he might be an apparition, shivering before she was able to dismiss the idea and call herself a fool.

Already she missed his solid presence by her side, shielding her from the wind and ensuring she did not lose her footing. He had left her only fifty feet from the back of the house, at the edge of a clear path, but she wished he was still here guiding her.

Quickly she hurried towards the house, repeating the name ‘Taigh Blath…’ under her breath again and again, not wanting to forget how lyrical the words had sounded as Mr Thomson had said them.

She barely noticed as she reached the door, her mind was too caught up in remembering the way his body had felt underneath hers and the spark that had burned between them as their bodies had collided.

Selina was well aware she had a fanciful imagination and sometimes allowed herself to get caught up in a world filled with things that could never be, but she hadn’t imagined the way her body had reacted to Mr Thomson and she was pretty certain she hadn’t imagined his response to her either.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ Lady Kingsley barked as Selina softly closed the door behind her.

The kitchen was in darkness and she had thought it deserted, but as her eyes adjusted she saw her stepmother perched on one of the little stools by the kitchen table.

She looked out of place and uncomfortable, dressed in the finest fashions London had to offer with her hair pinned immaculately even though they had not entertained guests that evening.

There was always an air of mild desperation about Lady Kingsley.

Neither she nor Selina’s father had not been born into one of the aristocratic families that ruled London Society.

They were both from families of the minor gentry, both desperate to climb higher.

Now they could afford the finest clothes and to host extravagant balls, but still they did not quite fit in.

It was one of the reasons they were here in Scotland: to secure a marriage with a wealthy and titled suitor for their daughter Catherine.

It was just another step towards their goal of being accepted into the highest echelons of Society.

Of course, Selina did not fit into those plans.

An illegitimate daughter was not going to help the image Sir William wished to portray.

Her father and stepmother had decided to keep her close for now, to limit the chance that she could become an embarrassment, but it did not mean Lady Kingsley had to treat her well.

‘I needed some air,’ Selina said, hoping the darkness of the kitchen would hide her torn dress.

Lady Kingsley tutted. ‘You are a selfish girl. You cannot simply go wandering off without telling anyone where you are.’

‘I did not think anyone would notice. I was not gone long.’

‘We could have sent people looking for you.’

‘Did you?’

There was a pause before Lady Kingsley spoke again. ‘That is beside the point. Sir William and I have shown you every courtesy on this trip. The very least you could do is not wander off.’

Even a few weeks ago Selina would have argued with her stepmother. She would have pushed back against her lies and worked herself up until she was in a rage, but now she simply lowered her eyes, murmured an apology she did not mean and silently called Lady Kingsley every name she could think of.

‘I will not take up any more of your time,’ Selina said, edging towards the door that led to the rest of the house.

She clutched the material of her cloak together, feeling a surge of triumph as she escaped from the kitchen without her stepmother noticing the ripped dress.

Tomorrow she would have to try to find someone who could help her mend the garment, or if all else failed to dispose of it where no one would see it.

Loch View Lodge was a beautiful house, although not the most logical in design.

The oldest part was in the centre, a stone-built building that was more like a fortress than a comfortable residence.

The walls were made of heavy blocks of granite and had stood unmoving for centuries.

The rest of the house had been added on at various points which led to a charming maze that spread out from the central hall.

The journey to Scotland had felt arduous, even though they had travelled in Sir William’s fine carriage.

Lady Kingsley grew nauseous if she spent more than an hour in the carriage at a time and it meant frequent stops at the edge of muddy roads.

Their progress had been achingly slow and Selina had felt such a relief when they had reached the border and crossed from England to Scotland.

She had not realised there were still days of travelling ahead of them.