Niall and the rest of the family have been very kind throughout the whole ordeal, though I shudder to think what impression they now have of my countrymen. I do hope that someday I can introduce them to better examples…namely you, and Rose and Poppy, and Camellia. They would do wonders for the reputation of that most maligned species, the English wallflower.
Fond regards,
Heather Hayes MacNair
Days had passed. Heather avoided being alone with Niall, embarrassed by her display of lust the other night. Anyone would think she was trying to seduce him. Unfortunately, the result of that was that she didn’t spend much time with him at all, and she felt rather empty.
Calcutta. Cairo. Budapest. Moscow. Venice. Paris. Porto.She recited the names of some of the cities she wanted to see, tried to imagine the skylines of each as she sailed into port. It was trickier lately.
She rounded a corner of the second story hallway, just where a small alcove was set at the juncture of two passages. There, in the shadows, she saw Brenna embracing Niall. His back was to Heather, so all she saw was Brenna’s arms twined around his neck, and her pale forehead and dark curls visible just above his shoulder. Heather dashed back behind the corner, her heart pounding.
Was that how it was? Heather denied him what he wanted and his first reaction was to seek out pleasure with another woman? How could Nialldowhat he did to her the other night, when he was also romancing Brenna?
Heather returned to her room and waited until her heart stopped acting like a bird in flight. There had to be an explanation. There just had to be.
About twenty minutes later, she smoothed her hair and her gown, then proceeded to the great hall like nothing had happened. Niall was there, just settling in for breakfast. Brenna was nowhere to be seen.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Hello there,” he said, looking over at her with a smile that would have charmed her if she hadn’t been so annoyed with him. “Just got here now? You’re usually up and about earlier than this.”
“Oh, I felt lazy. How is Brenna?” she asked guilelessly.
He blinked at the question, giving a very real impression of surprise. “Couldn’t tell you. Haven’t seen her all day.”
The bald-faced lie startled Heather. Was he going to deny everything? Did she even want to confront him about this?
“I’ll have to chat with her later then,” Heather replied, sitting at her usual place. A maid came up and offered her a bowl of steaming oat porridge with a little assortment of delicious additions. She added currants and poured milk over the top.
If the prospect of Heather and Brenna comparing notes worried Niall, he showed no sign of it. “Perhaps you can both find Maeve and convince her to take a day off from her labors. Did you get everything you needed for your wardrobe? I can arrange for the local seamstress to come here.”
“Until my uncle leaves, I can’t possibly worry about clothes,” she said. The thought distracted her from Niall’s previous behavior. “He sent another letter today. I’m not sure what effect he thinks they’ll have.”
“Sentiment?”
“He has none.”
“But you do. He hopes to play on your good nature and get you to think that you owe him something. Loyalty. Pity. Family duty. Whatever.” Niall put down his glass. “You don’t owe him anything, though. You should burn those letters instead of opening them.”
Heather nodded. She’d had the same thought. But then again, each letter had included a ten pound note—Heather assumed that because her uncle was so consumed with wealth that he imagined everyone else was as well. Still, it seemed wasteful to set actual money on fire, so she’d opened them all so far (in fact, she realized, that was probably another goal of including the money in the first place).
Then Niall said, “Listen, I’m glad we have a moment without everyone else begging for attention. I wanted to ask how you’re feeling. It’s been a while since we, um, talked.”
Yes, the last time they’d “talked” they had been behind a closed door doing far more kissing than talking.
“I’m feeling rather hemmed in, to be honest,” Heather told him. “I know it’s for my protection, but it’s difficult.”
“I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner,” he said. “It’s been nearly a week since your uncle has arrived, and he’s done nothing to threaten you after that first visit. And this Webb person may never appear. Why not go riding? There’s little danger so long as you’re not alone. Two of the men can follow—”
“Oh, can you not come with me?” Heather asked. “Unless you’re busy. I know you have a lot to occupy your mind.” Over the past few weeks, Heather noticed that Niall was constantly meeting with various people, who she learned were tenants and workers all involved in the ongoing harvest. And of course, now she had the cursed image of him kissing Brenna in her head.
“You don’t mind?” he asked.
“I think I’d feel better if you were with me. And it’s just a ride,” she added quickly. How much trouble could she get into while on horseback?
So they went for a ride. The moment Heather was mounted up on Sterling, she felt more free. He was an exceptional horse, far more intelligent than any she’d had before. Niall mounted up on his own horse and they were off.
The hills were gorgeous in the warm, misty afternoon light. Heather rode along the trail, delighted to be outside. She smiled and greeted everyone who happened to cross her path. She even said hello to the sheep cropping the weeds near the path, too happy to hold anything in.
