by Meara Platt
“I...I’m all right. Tell me more. Please.” Jenny did not want this moment to end. She liked standing beside him, liked being in the muscled warmth of his embrace.
His brogue and the resonant depth of his voice sent thrills through her. “I’ll tell ye more as we make our way down.”
She nodded, knowing the assurances she had offered sounded hollow. She was scared and he knew it.
They started to climb down slowly. “The town of Stonehaven is quiet most of the year,” he said, purposely distracting her. “But we’ll be holding our Pagan Moon celebration in a few weeks and festivities can get a bit rowdy then. Ye willna leave us before then, will ye?”
“Whether I stay or go will depend on John. I’m here little more than a day, but I’m already sad knowing there will soon come a time I’ll have to leave.”
“Aye, John won’t stay here. He’s never liked the place.” He gave a knowing nod. “And ye belong with him.”
Why did his words sound pained? No doubt because he’d become attached to his little nephew. The way he’d held him, kissed the top of his head. Her legs turned to butter just thinking of that wonderful moment.
Her eyes began to tear.
She blamed it on the strength of the wind and the way it made her hair whip. She’d done up her hair, but several long strands had escaped their pins and were slashing across her cheeks and into her eyes. To her surprise, when they reached a safe stopping off point, Lyon came to her assistance, his big body forming a barrier against the wind as he helped tuck the loose curls back in their place. “Thank you,” she muttered, although his touch made her silently ache.
How was she going to get through these next few months? Her desire for this man was like nothing she’d ever felt before. The power of this unexpected attraction frightened her. “You needn’t be so patient with me. We can walk faster. You must have a lot of work to do and I’ve taken you away from it.”
“I dinna mind.” He cast her an appealing smile. “Work is tedious. Ye’re not.”
She laughed. “Johnny will be waking up soon. But I do thank you for showing me around your property. I could not have created a more perfect place if I’d dreamed it up myself.” She wanted to say more about Castle Lyon and Stonehaven, but the thought of leaving it was simply too sad.
They hadn’t made it more than a quarter of the way down the cliff walk before reaching another precarious stretch. Jenny held her breath, hoping to stem her rising panic. Climbing up this abrupt rise had not been all that difficult. Of course, Lyon had been holding her hand to steady her and she had been looking up at him and not the rocks below.
Climbing down proved far more frightening. She could not stop staring at the sharp drop and it made her head spin.
Her lungs felt as though they were about to burst.
Lyon caught her when she lost her balance again and began to tumble forward.
“Jenny!” He drew her firmly against his body. “Lass, ye have a serious fear of heights. Ye should have told me. I would no’ have brought ye up here.”
‘I didn’t know. I’ve never climbed anything but steps before. Perhaps an occasional small hill. Lyon, don’t let go of me. Please.” She’d never felt so frightened and off-balance before. This was worse than the bell tower. The swirling, dizzying feeling had a tight grip on her and seemed to be pitching her forward.
“I have ye, Jenny. I won’t let go of ye. Close your eyes.”
She held onto his arms in desperation. “I dare not.”
He enveloped her in the muscled iron of his embrace. “Ye’ll feel better if ye do. And ye won’t be taking a step alone. I’ll be holding on to ye until we’re through this rough patch.”
She sobbed once, but nodded and did as he asked. He was right, closing her eyes was much better. “I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for, lass. It’s rugged out here. We’re used to it, but you city folk aren’t. I should no’ have brought ye up here.”
With her eyes closed, her sense of hearing was heightened. Funny how that happened. When one sense was closed off, the other senses seemed to compensate for its loss. She felt calmed by the smooth, deep timbre of his voice. She inhaled his clean, manly scent. It was of highland mountains, bracing sea air, and sandalwood.
The palms of his hands were rough, no doubt from physical labor, but his touch was warm and confident.
She gasped when he eased away from her, although he still kept tight hold of her hand. “Lyon?”
“I’m right here, lass. I hopped down to better get ye down these last few steps. I still have yer hand. Now, give me the other one as well.”
She held it out to him. Her eyes were still closed and she could not see to reach for him.
“Good, now all ye need to do is fall forward. I’ll be there to catch ye. Can you do that, Jenny?”
“No! I’ll knock us both off the cliff.”
“Ye won’t. This spot is wide enough for the two of us. Ye only think it’s narrow because it’s a little steeper than the rest of the path and ye can clearly see all the way to the rocks at the bottom.”
“Don’t tell me that!”
He sighed. “It’s safe, lass. I wouldn’t have brought ye here if it wasn’t. All ye have to do is fall into my arms. Trust me, Jenny.”
“I do.” She felt she had to shout over the whistle of the wind as it tore up the cliff face. She heard the roar of waves as they pounded against the hollowed out caves with a thunderous roar. The nesting birds cawed madly as they circled overhead, as though warning her. Don’t fall! Don’t fall!
“I’m not so sure ye do trust me,” he said with a light chuckle. “Ye haven’t moved. Do ye need another moment?”
She breathed deeply, taking in the cool, sea air that carried the scent of salt and swirling water. “Yes. I’m building up my courage.”
“Och, lass. Ye dinna lack courage. Ye made yer way up here from Oxford on yer own with a babe in yer arms, no less. This is just one small hop.”
“When you put it that way...promise you’ll catch me.”
“I promise.” His voice was achingly tender and held no trace of impatience, just gentle understanding.
She took that hop and fell against his chest. Heaven help her! She’d never held on to a man like him before. Big, muscled. Divine.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly for an exquisitely long moment. “That wasna so hard, was it?”
She continued to hold on to him, for her entire body was still trembling. “I’m never coming up here again. Never. Never.”
That outcropping was the most beautiful spot on earth, but she could not brave the climb again. She understood why he’d wanted to show it to her and was glad he had. Perhaps anyone else would not have made such a fuss and merely taken those steep steps back down without a moment’s thought. She had not been able to do it.
The fear she’d tumble off the path onto the rocks below was simply too great.
“Och, Jenny. I–”
“Don’t apologize, Lyon. I wanted you to bring me up there. I ought to be apologizing to you. Give me a moment to catch my breath. Thank you for showing me the view. I’ll never forget its majesty.”
He stroked her hair, but made certain to keep one arm securely fastened around her waist. “Take as long as ye need, Jenny.”
She wanted to take forever.
But as her fear subsided, so did her dreams.
The weeks of running from Oxford and the uncle who would marry her off to the odious Lord Finster suddenly took its toll. She’d made it here, terrified the entire time she’d be caught before she could deliver Johnny safely to Lyon. Now she was here and never wanted to leave. But she would have to.
Lyon would have nothing to do with her once he knew she’d lied to him.
She ought to have drawn away, but instead she clung to him, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter as she absorbed the hard length of him, and felt the strength and warmth of his body surround her. “I’m so sorry. I hoped
I was better. I think I’m falling apart.”
“Och, lass. I dinna know.”
If he felt uncomfortable, he did not show it. But he had to be feeling her body against his. Her breasts were shamelessly pressed against his chest. Her heart was beating wildly. Her legs were shaking as they leaned against his.
She had thrown her arms around his neck and was clinging to him so hard, she had to be choking him. She had to stop behaving like a coward. “Are we on firm ground?”
“Aye, lass.”
She opened her eyes and slowly let go of him.
He emitted a heavy breath. “Ye’re still ashen. I’m going to carry ye home the rest of the way. Is that all right?”
She felt ashamed by her weakness. “Yes, my stomach is roiling and my legs won’t move on their own.”
He lifted her in his arms and started toward the castle by a little-traveled back path that was a shortcut to the castle. Suddenly, he groaned. “I’m an idjit. It never occurred to me.”
“What didn’t? That I’m afraid of heights?”
“No, lass. That ye’re in the family way. Why dinna ye tell me, Jenny? John suspected ye were. He mentioned it in his letter. I should have realized. I’m so sorry. I’ll never forgive myself if–”
“I’m not. Lord, have mercy! Where did he get that idea?” There was no way she would fool anyone with that pretense. “John was mistaken. My monthly courses are irregular sometimes. But they’re...all is normal. Right on schedule.” Gad! Why had she just told him that? This was no conversation to be having with any man, let alone Lyon.
Even he was embarrassed. “But ye mentioned yer stomach.”
“It’s queasy, that’s all. You ought to put me down now. I think I can walk the rest of the way home.”
“Are ye certain, Jenny?”
She nodded.
He set her down reluctantly.
She walked as fast as her wobbling legs would carry her back to the castle. Lyon easily kept stride with her. “I may be called away on business, Jenny. Will ye be able to manage here on yer own? The entire staff will remain at yer service, of course.”
She stopped suddenly and turned to face him. “You’re going away?”
He ran a hand across the nape of his neck. “I may have to. Sometimes a problem is better handled directly.”
They stood near the decorative gate that led to the castle’s garden. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
He shrugged. “There’s no knowing. I hope to be back by the end of the week.”
“Then you are certain you will be going?” She did not want him to leave. What if her uncle and Lord Finster found her while he was away? Not that she could trust Lyon to keep her out of their nefarious grasp. No, he’d probably be angry she had lied to him. What if he handed her straight over to those knaves?
“Aye, lass. The more I think on it, the more my mind is made up. I’m the only one who can take care of this particular problem.”
“Is there anything I can do to help while you’re gone? I mean in the running of the household...well, I suppose Mrs. MacNaught has it all in hand. But I don’t wish to be a burden.”
He laughed. “Ye are the farthest thing from a burden. My staff is deliriously happy, have ye no’ noticed? Ye’ve brought John’s son into our home. It is a blessing. We are all grateful to ye.”
He opened the gate to allow her through and then followed her in. “On more thing, Jenny. This is yer home as much as it is mine. Ye mentioned this place is in my soul. Aye, it is. But I can see it has already worked its way into yer heart. It shows in yer eyes. Ye’ve fallen in love with Castle Lyon.”
They stood in the sunlit garden, amid the lush foliage and bursts of color. Behind them stood the massive fortress of stone. The wind had died down a little, but Jenny still felt its warmth as it blew against her cheeks. “Yes,” she said softly.
Lyon chuckled. “Although I would no’ include that cliff walk among the parts of this place ye love. Never mind about that near disaster.”
“I’m sorry. I–”
“There’s no shame in what happened to ye, lass. We’re none of us as nimble as a mountain goat.”
He arched a dark eyebrow and smiled indulgently.
Yes, she had fallen in love with the castle. But she was also falling in love with Lyon.
This was turning into a disaster.
He was going away for a few days.
Should she take advantage of his absence to pack up and quietly leave?
Chapter Five
Cheyne shut himself in his study for the rest of the day with his estate steward, Ian MacNeal. He buried himself in Mar administrative matters, first dealing with those that could be handled by responsive letters. The rest were more complicated, but still did not need to be handled in person. However, he convinced himself it was necessary.
Ian eyed him curiously. “Ye can send me to deal with them, or are ye suddenly questioning my ability?”
The man was capable and the matters were routine. However, Cheyne was desperate to get away from Jenny.
He needed to get away from her fast.
Although hours had passed since he’d held her in his arms, his body was still reeling. He’d held her close and absorbed the perfect rightness of her soft curves pressed to him. He liked everything about her. She had a gloriously sweet smile. There was honesty in her eyes. Her skin carried the scent of flowers. Lavender and roses.
He was smitten with this girl and detested himself for it.
Hellfire, what was happening to him?
The sound of little Johnny’s squeals of laughter drifted in through his open window. Jenny must have taken the boy into the garden now that he’d awakened from his nap.
Cheyne tried to ignore the pair, but Jenny’s cheerful voice was too alluring. He rose from behind his desk and peered out the window, quickly losing himself in watching mother and child play with a ball. Jenny was rolling it to the lad, and he was trying to toss it back to her. Sometimes he succeeded, but mostly the ball fell backward.
Jenny showed remarkable patience, cheering and clapping no matter what Johnny did.
Soon after, Mrs. MacNaught carried out a tray with teapot, cups and cakes. Jenny surprised him by suddenly looking toward his study window. He was still standing there, so she saw him. He dared not dart out of sight now that she’d noticed him.
She waved up at him.
“Bollocks,” he muttered, forced to wave back.
She appeared about to motion for him to join her, but must have thought better of it. Instead, she turned away to pick up Johnny to sit for her afternoon tea. Had she felt that same jolt of awareness at their touch? He turned from the window and tried to concentrate on the documents on his desk, but it was a doomed proposition. Thoughts of the lass now filled his head.
“Yer Grace,” Ian said, staring at him with concern, “Ye seem to have other matters weighing on yer mind. Ye dinna have to deal with Edinburgh. I can attend to it later this week.”
“No, I’ve given ye enough. Besides, it will do me good to see Matthew and Lucas. I ought to tell them in person of John’s wife and bairn.”
Ian laughed. “Och, they’ll be surprised to know they are now uncles.”
“Indeed.” Cheyne tried to hide the wistfulness from his voice. He was the eldest and the duke. It was always expected he’d marry first and sire sons of his own. Perhaps finding John and Davina together had affected him more than he’d realized, for he hadn’t taken the time to seriously look for a wife after that incident.
He’d met dozens of young women of marriageable age. They were constantly thrust in his path. He was a duke, after all. But not one of them had ever caught his fancy.
He returned his attention to the documents on his desk. “I’ll leave for Edinburgh first thing tomorrow morning.”
Ian was still looking at him askance, but said nothing.
They both knew the outstanding matter concerning his Edinburgh holdings was not pressing. They both k
new a missive sent to his brothers would have sufficed. But he was determined to escape.
He and Ian divided up the rest of the work, Ian dealing with those matters close to Castle Lyon while he would take care of any other business close to Edinburgh.
If only that distance would clear his head of Jenny.
Having made his plans, all he had to do was make it through supper this evening. “I can manage that,” he muttered to himself. He’d find an excuse to finish early and retire to his study. He hated behaving like a coward, but too much was at stake. Heaven help them both if Jenny felt this same attraction.
“Are you still angry with me Lyon?” she asked at supper a few hours later. The soup course had been served. It was a simple leek soup, for only the two of them were dining.
He couldn’t bear the comfortable intimacy.
He’d hardly spoken a word.
“I’m not angry with ye, lass. What makes ye think I am?” He glanced at her bowl and noticed she’d hardly touched it. He had finished his soup, leaving not a drop of it. Apparently, lust made a man hungry.
Compensating for the sex he couldn’t have.
Heaven help him.
He had to stop thinking such thoughts of Jenny.
Brogan had the footmen serve the second course, a local favorite called Cullen skink.
Jenny stared at it blankly.
Cheyne cleared his throat. “It’s a mash of haddock, potatoes and onions. Ye can dip yer bread in it, like this.” He dunked the tip of his bread, forked some haddock and potatoes onto it, and stuffed it in his mouth.
He frowned at Jenny when she made no move to copy him.
She sighed. “Why are you still frowning at me? Are you certain I haven’t offended you? You’ve avoided talking to me all evening.”
He set down his bread. “I’m talking to ye now, lass. My mind has been on my trip. I may be gone as long as a fortnight.”
She glanced up, startled. “Oh. I hadn’t realized you were going to be away that long.”
“It can’t be helped. Business.”
She bowed her head again and stared into her bowl. “I see. Will you be back in time for that pagan celebration?”
