“’Tis still raining now and again.”
“Aye, sir,” Brody agreed. He’d been watching the weather closely.
“The grounds are rather confusing at first. Some of the buildings need repair. You must take care.”
“I promise not to hurt anything,” Brody said, his earnest gaze holding the captain’s.
“’Tisn’t the ruins I worry over, but rather, you.” His gaze shifted to Fiona then back to Brody. “I wouldn’t want any harm to befall you.”
Fiona’s heart tightened. He was more concerned over her brother’s welfare than any damage he might cause. That said so much to her.
“Would you mind if Thorburn accompanies me? That is, if you don’t have need of him for a time.”
“Of course. He needs exercise, and he is much like you in that the weather doesn’t bother him. But do take care. If Thorburn sees a rabbit or the like, he’ll chase it for miles. Do not follow him. He’ll return of his own accord soon enough. Do you understand?”
“Aye, sir. Thank you.”
“You’re certain ’tis safe?” she asked.
“More so than the streets of Edinburgh.”
Brody shifted his eager gaze to her. “May I be excused?”
“Of course, but please do as the captain asks.”
Brody nodded then rushed from the room, already calling for the hound.
“Thank you, Captain Graham,” she said. “He’s been restless. Fresh air is just what he needs after being stuck inside, even if he gets wet.”
“You must call me by my given name if we’re to marry.”
Fiona’s breath caught in her throat. While she was grateful he mentioned the upcoming marriage, she didn’t care for his choice of the word ‘if.’
Unfortunately, she wasn’t brave enough to challenge him. “Very well...Logan.” Saying his name made her think of that kiss. “And you must call me Fiona.”
“Fiona.” He held her gaze as he said it, his voice a deep timbre that sent shivers chasing down her spine.
She couldn’t have looked away had the earth shaken. When his gaze dropped to her mouth, she stopped breathing.
The spell was broken when Logan pushed back his chair and slowly stood. “I’ll see you this evening.”
Fiona sighed. Was this the way her life would be spent? Watching Captain Gr—rather, Logan—walk away? Surely, they’d do a few things together.
She had yet to think of what those activities might be.
The realization had her swallowing hard as her doubts resurfaced. Was the marriage a mistake? Would meals consist of stilted conversations with only Brody to break the silence?
With a scowl at her dark thoughts, she decided to find a way to connect with Logan. She wanted them to be friends, at least. Duncan had found many things to admire about Logan, and Sir Stirling had thought they’d suit. She need only give the situation time. Besides, what choice did she have? With so few options before her, this marriage was the best hope for her brother’s future.
Yet the heaviness in her heart didn’t ease as she sat alone in the dining room.
***
Logan stared out the library window the next afternoon, hoping to see a break in the clouds and rain. Reports and correspondence required his attention, but analyzing the costs for the abbey’s repairs and the potential profits held no appeal at the moment. Normally, he found pleasure in the order he brought to the numbers. Serving as Blackstone Abbey’s steward was his contribution to his friends and their endeavor to improve the land and forge a life here.
Unlike Brody, he wasn’t willing to risk a walk in the poor conditions. One slip in the mud might leave him abed for a week. Nor did the idea of wandering about his home hold appeal. The chance of running into Fiona was too great. If he spent much time in her company, he might do something he’d regret. Or worse, send her running before they said their vows.
Having her and Brody here already had shifted his routine. He had something to think about other than himself. Meal times were no longer spent alone. He’d spoken more in the past few days than he had in the past month. The addition of a vase of flowers in the drawing room and a larger fire in his library had caught his notice. Damned if he didn’t like the changes.
Brody appeared so much like a young Duncan that it almost hurt to look at him, and Fiona was far too kind and beautiful for an ill-tempered man such as himself. He found her intriguing in both mind and spirit, but he couldn’t determine what topics to converse about. The weather? The Highlands? His solitude since he’d left the infirmary had worsened his quiet nature. Witty banter escaped him.
With a groan, he turned away from the window. Had she realized what a poor bargain she’d received when she’d agreed to marry him? She would as soon as he admitted his terrible secrets.
He rubbed his thigh, wondering how he’d hide the scars from her once they were wed. His leg muscle had been permanently damaged, and the skin deeply scarred. The injury served as a fitting penance, perhaps doubly so, now that he’d offered marriage to the sister of a man he’d led to his death. He needed to find a way to tell her those things before more time passed, but how?
The knock on the library door gave him pause. The visitor couldn’t be Payne or Mrs. Bingsley. He knew their knocks. “Aye?”
Fiona peeked around the edge of the door and sent his heart thundering. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, but I wondered if I might borrow a book?”
“Of course.” He gestured toward the shelves, only to berate himself. She could see the books.
She offered a gentle smile and walked to the shelves. “The rain makes this a good afternoon to read.”
Rather than sit in his chair to review the papers that awaited him, he remained standing by his desk, watching her. This was his chance to tell her the truth. Nerves quickened his breath, but he couldn’t force out the words. She trailed a finger along the spines of the books, the gesture graceful and feminine. A wave of heat washed over him at the sight, at the thought of that finger trailing over his chest.
As if feeling the weight of his regard, she glanced at him. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
Aye, you are, he wanted to answer. In ways you cannot imagine. She was like a fine peaty whisky, and he was so thirsty. He wanted more of her, to drink in her presence, to savor her.
“Not at all.” He limped forward, ignoring the pain in his thigh as well as the truth he needed to share. “Are you looking for something in particular?”
She studied the books before her, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Nothing overly weighty, I suppose.”
“I fear I have few volumes that don’t pertain to war, farming, or sheep.” He perused the shelves in search of something appropriate. “Many of the books were my grandfather’s.”
He leaned over her shoulder to read the fine print of a title, only to have her sweet scent fill his senses, bringing to mind summer flowers after a rain. He drew in a deep breath. Too much time had passed since he’d savored a woman’s fragrance, let alone held a woman in his arms.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I’m sure you have little time for poetry or the like.” Her attention returned to the shelves, but it almost seemed as if she shifted closer to him. That couldn’t be the case, could it?
He swallowed hard, wanting to reach for her narrow waist and draw her close. The heat in his lower body reminded him he was still a man in every sense of the term.
With concerted effort, he pulled his attention back to the topic. “Somewhere in here are copies of Byron’s and Shelley’s works.”
“Truly?” Surprise widened her eyes as she glanced up at him.
He shrugged, then reached for one of the slim volumes. “Levity has a place in life.” As soon as he uttered the words, he realized that he hadn’t made room for it in his life since his return to the Highlands.
“I concur, though the demands of life sometimes cause one to forget. Do you have anything that shares the history of the Highlands?”
&nbs
p; As he stared at her in pleased surprise, a delicate flush rose in her cheeks.
“If I’m to live here, I would learn more about the region,” she said.
Her request warmed him. He loved the Highlands and always had. Thoughts of returning to its clean air and endless sky had comforted him on the battlefield when little else had.
“I—” He abruptly closed his mouth.
A book would better explain the area than he could. He didn’t deserve to spend time in her company. They might be getting married, but the purpose of their marriage was to keep her and her brother from destitution.
Wasn’t it?
Quickly, he pulled three books from the shelves that shared both the history and the geography of the local region, and handed them to her. “These should serve you well.”
“Thank you.”
That couldn’t be disappointment in her voice. He drew back a step, then another, to break the tenuous bond he already felt toward her. Such a link would benefit no one, least of all, her.
“If you will excuse me, I have business that requires my attention.” He turned away to avoid the temptation to repeat the kiss she’d so tenderly given him the night he’d proposed. He didn’t think for a moment that Duncan would approve of his desire.
Silence greeted his request, making him aware of how stern he’d sounded. Where were the levity and balance he’d spoken of when he needed them? He turned around to apologize but caught only the flare of her skirt as she stepped out the door.
How unsettling that what he thought he’d wanted—her out of his library—left him more restless than before.
***
The next morn, Logan welcomed the sunshine that had broken through the cloud cover. He broke his fast in silence, not so different than the monks who’d once resided within these walls. Then business activities took a good portion of the rest of the morn, including answering the workers questions in his friends’ absence.
By midday, he could no long abide staring at the four walls. He hadn’t yet seen or heard Fiona or Brody. He wondered how they spent their time, but couldn’t bring himself to search for them.
He took the cane he detested but didn’t bother with a hat. Stepping out a side door, he breathed in the fresh air. Water dripped around the eaves, adding a musical quality to his outing. He stepped cautiously on the damp, boggy earth, using his cane often, appreciating the peace that filled him.
By the time Ewan and the others returned, he would be married. During their recovery in the infirmary, they’d decided they were unfit for polite company and so had purchased Blackstone Abbey to live out their days in peace and solitude. When his friends had married, he’d thought them insane, but he had to admit, they appeared to have found some peace despite their nightmares of war.
Solitude had been simple enough to achieve, but peace, except for special moments like this, eluded Logan. Peace was especially elusive at night, when he closed his eyes and the nightmares returned.
“Captain!”
The excited cry caused Logan to turn. Brody rushed toward him with Thorburn at his side. Logan scowled at the dog. The hound had abandoned him in favor of the lad. But as Brody wrapped an arm around the animal, Logan had to smile. “What are the two of you up to this fine day?”
“We have been exploring, as I already completed my lessons.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” a gentle voice said nearby.
Logan shifted his attention to Fiona, whose cheeks were flushed from the cool air. His breath hitched. “Not at all.”
“You have an unusual home.” Fiona glanced about, leaving Logan to follow her gaze.
What did she see? Crumbling walls that should be demolished? Or stones weighted with a history that demanded to be honored? He dearly wanted to know. The idea that they could share a love of history appealed to him.
“Unusual?”
She glanced at him in surprise. “Quite unusual.”
He held his breath.
“I wonder what happened here, who lived here, and how they spent their days.” Her gaze strayed to the buildings and walls that surrounded them.
Pleasure flowed through him at her interest.
“We’ve enjoyed walking about,” she said. “Haven’t we, Brody?”
“’Tis marvelous,” the lad exclaimed. “I can’t believe I get to live here.” Suddenly, the boy’s expression sobered. “We do, don’t we? You haven’t changed your mind?”
Had life been so difficult that Brody anticipated disappointment? The thought tightened Logan’s chest. “Aye, you now live here. I’m pleased you like it. Not everyone does.”
Fiona frowned as though she found that impossible to believe.
“A few visitors we’ve received, along with several potential servants, didn’t appreciate its history. Several suggested it is haunted. The locals refer to us as ‘The Beasts of Blackstone Abbey.’” He pursed his lips. Why had he shared that? What if they changed their minds about wanting to stay?
Brody’s eyes lit with excitement rather than horror. “Ghosts? That would be wonderful. I’ve never seen a ghost. Have you?”
Logan’s chuckle sounded rusty from disuse, which surprised him as much as it did his two companions, for they stared. “I can’t say that I have, though one of the maids refuses to enter certain parts of the abbey.”
“Which part?” Fiona asked.
Logan waved a hand dismissively. “’Tis a topic for another time. I promise to show you once the grounds dry. We’d be a muddy mess if we ventured there this day.”
“Can you show us anything else of interest?” Brody pleaded. “Do you know any stories of the buildings?”
Logan looked at Fiona to find her eyes wide with interest. The idea that she might like not only the Highlands, but the abbey, filled him with hope. If they shared these two interests, who knew what else they might find to enjoy together?
He offered her his free arm. “Would you care to join us?”
With a smile, she placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “I would, indeed, Logan.”
Awareness shivered through him at her use of his given name. Her dark gaze held a sparkle in their depths that fascinated him. Claiming her as his wife in the full meaning of the word would be a pleasure that couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter Four
The next morning, Fiona dressed with eagerness. The previous day had been a pleasure, filling her with hope for the future. Mayhap she and Logan hadn’t gotten off to the best start, but she intended to put that experience behind her. He’d been so patient with Brody as they’d explored the grounds of the abbey, answering her brother’s questions and pointing out items of interest. She’d enjoyed Logan’s tales about the abbey and the Highlands. Though they were still becoming acquainted, they shared enough commonalities to one day become friends.
Wasn’t that the basis of a marriage? Friendship? Added to that was the realization that she was attracted to him. His green eyes, though often shadowed, drew her. His strength despite his injury was undeniable. He was handsome and honorable and kind. What more could she want in a potential husband?
She peeked in on Brody, who still slept, then made her way downstairs to the dining room. She entered with a greeting on her lips only to find the room empty. Rather than allow disappointment to take hold, she made quick work of her breakfast then paused outside the library door. Did she dare knock? She didn’t expect Logan to spend every waking hour with her, but surely he wouldn’t mind if she wished him good morning. She gathered her courage and knocked. When no one answered, she opened the door to find the room deserted. Odd. She’d been certain Logan was an early riser.
“What are you doing, Fiona?”
Fiona turned to find Brody behind her, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “I was looking for the captain.”
“I heard Payne speaking to him in his chamber. He sounded less than pleased about something.”
Logan’s warning that he wasn’t always in good humor came to mind. “Mayhap he’
s having a bad day. Never mind. You must be hungry.”
Brody’s lessons filled the rest of the morning, but when Logan’s place at the dining room table remained empty for luncheon, Fiona grew concerned. After sending Brody outside with Thorburn, she found Payne passing by the drawing room.
“May I have a moment?” she asked the elderly man.
“I suppose,” he said gruffly.
“Where is Captain Graham?”
“Home. Where else would he be?”
“I only meant that I haven’t seen him today.”
“He is indisposed. Now, if you will excuse me.” Payne turned to take his leave.
“Is he ill? Perhaps I could be of assistance.”
Payne shook his head. “I doubt the captain would welcome that.”
Before she’d done more than open her mouth to protest, he added, “But I will pass your message to him.” With that, he took his leave.
Fiona found Mrs. Bingsley in the kitchen a short time later. Though she was friendlier than Payne, she was just as tight-lipped. “The captain sometimes has bad days, miss. His injury, you know.”
Nae, I don’t know, Fiona wanted to say. Why did his leg continue to bother him months after the injuries had occurred? What was wrong that he still suffered so? She intended to ask him at the earliest opportunity.
Late that afternoon, while she read in the drawing room, she heard footsteps in the foyer and rose to find Logan entering the library. She hurried to catch him before he closed the door. “Logan?”
For a moment, she thought he might ignore her.
Then he glanced over his shoulder. His face was pale, his expression taut. From the stiffness of his body and the way he kept his back to her, she considered leaving him be. But if he was ailing, she wanted to help. “I understand from Payne that you’re not feeling well,” she began.
He briefly closed his eyes. “Then you understand that I am not fit company.”
“Could I be of help in some way?”
“Nae. Thank you.” He closed the door with a resounding click.
She stood, confused by his dismissal. This Logan was the same one they’d met upon their arrival. She much preferred the kinder version. If only he’d allow her to help him, but she supposed he needed to trust her first.
Scandalous Lords and Courtship Page 37
