“Ah, yes, those two.” He grinned and narrowed his eyes in contemplation. “Do we dare, given parlay failed, and they are now at war?”
As implied, things had gone from bad to worse below stairs, and their servants’ bickering and roaring at each other might very well go down in MacLauchlin Castle history. That was according to gossiping staff, of course, because neither Agnus nor Donal admitted to such. As far as either disclosed, their dealings with one another had been most cordial and businesslike. Most proper as their stations dictated.
“I think weshouldentrust them with our first official correspondence.” Prudence nodded once. “May they risk our eternal wrath otherwise.”
He chuckled at her mimicking one of the many medieval quotes he had shared during their ongoing tour of the castle over the past few days. They had covered nearly every inch but the room in which Elizabeth’s pianoforte resided. To be expected, he continued enjoying her company immensely and to the point he had grown desperate for the next time he would see her, and they recommenced. How could he not want to see her, with her limitless curiosity? Her remarkable thirst for learning?
“Then risk of our eternal wrath it is because I think your idea splendid,” he said. “We shall start our correspondence straight away lest you or I grow fatally bored within seconds of being apart.”
“Very good.” Her smile only grew. “Would it be wrong to admit I am already penning it in my mind?”
“Not at all,” he assured. “As I am doing the same, my lady.”
He was, too. Likely had been in some small way since the moment she arrived at MacLauchlin Castle. Had she as well? Did she feel the same way he did despite such a short courtship? No, not a courtship, he reminded himself once again. Theirs was anything but. Rather it was the start of what he knew would be a lifelong friendship and perhaps—hopefully—even more.
It seemed an unspoken thing that they found each other at every opportunity. That they were fast friends everyone expected to see together. They knew gossip was about, and everyone thought them courting. So he supposed, in their own way, they went with it. Him, because he would be by no one else’s side. Her, perhaps, to keep free of would-be suitors so she might simply enjoy herself.
“Ah, the bagpipes are playing.” She turned an especially radiant smile his way. “Might we go listen to them again?”
If he did not hear her crisp English accent, he might think her a Scot for the way she was drawn to the pipes. For how she seemed adrift in their sound every bit as much as she was the first day when he dared not approach. He had since asked her what she heard when she listened to them, and she responded with one succinct word. One that caught him off guard but truly did sum it all up.
Heart.
She heardheartin the pipes, and he understood that. Had always felt the same. What he could never have anticipated was the same prudish Englishwoman who had tried to ruin his good name years before, hearing the same. Who felt it so strongly he knew better than to chat when they came upon the man playing the pipes. Which was fine, as he much preferred watching her out of the corner of his eye, especially how she appeared to lose herself in the music.
He would have to make sure bagpipes were playing whenever they reunited. Because they would be reuniting and often. Always if he could convince her to…what? He still had not figured out that part. All he knew was the idea of letters every so often sounded pitiful. Depressing. Why write when he could see her? Be around her? Enjoy her wonder at the world?
For all they had talked, there was still much left to discuss. Things they had not broached. Her time with her husband. His time with his wife. But was any of that really necessary? Somehow he sensed it might be before all was said and done. That her relationship with her husband could very well be part of what ultimately kept her away if they did not open up fully to one another, even as friends.
“A pint of ale, Your Grace?” a kindly old vender asked in passing. He offered Prudence a fairly toothless grin. “My lady?”
He was about to saynay, but it seemed Prudence decided to dive headfirst into things she had turned away even a day ago.
“That would be lovely.” She took the mug handed to her and smiled warmly, saying two simple words she would never have said before. “Thank you.”
“Aye, my lady.” When the old man seemed unable to stop beaming at Prudence, Jacob handed him enough to cover the cost of two ales, sure to grab the other mug before the smitten vendor wandered off.
“Are you quite certain about this?” He looked at Prudence’s ale, then perked a brow at her. “When you were holy against it even yesterday?”
“I was because supposedly it is strong.” She sniffed it and flinched before she nodded once firmly. “Therefore, I will sip it so I might have a taste of good Scottish ale, as you call it.”
“Well, then, Lady Barrington.” He tapped his mug against hers. “Here is to an adventurous Englishwoman drinking good Scottish ale.”
“Here, here.” Clearly doing her best not to scrunch her nose, she took a dainty sip, only to narrow her eyes.
“Well, what do you think?”
“I am not sure.” She took another dainty sip, only this time less squeamishly. “Other than…”
He chuckled when she sniffed it again, then took one more sip. “Other than what, my lady?”
She seemed to give it a great deal of thought before she relented. “In truth, it is not nearly as foul tasting as the scent implies.”
He tapped his mug against hers again and said the only thing that came to mind. What seemed to make perfect sense. “Then, I do believe you would make a proper Scotswoman, Lady Barrington.”
While she said nothing to that, he did not miss the odd look in her eyes before they carried on with their day. What had he seen in that glimpse? Could it be a desire to leave her roots behind and move to Scotland? Mayhap find a new life here? Better still, one where she would be in his bed discreetly every night? One in which he might wake to her beautiful face every morning before she snuck back to wherever?
A fantasy, as it were, that stayed with him the remainder of the day.
