Page 126 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Yes, he owns more than half the cattle on Mull.”

“I had no idea,” she said. “That must keep you very busy.”

“Not I. Until recently, we had a man helping my father manage the properties and livestock, but Ash has taken charge.”

“Ah, you don’t care for shepherding.”

“On the contrary, amongst other things, I manage the cattle in England.”

“So you chose England over Scotland?” she asked.

Erroll shrugged. “Not so much chose. My training at Oxford prepared me for a life in England, so it only made sense I would manage my father’s holdings there.”

“Rubbish,” she said.

He looked at her. “Rubbish?”

“You obviously love it here. As the marquess’ son, you could do as you please.”

“On the contrary, it is because I am his son that I am duty bound.”

She gave him an accessing look. “Duty bound to do what?”

“No need for you to worry about that. The marquess’ holdings are well in hand, I assure you.”

“Of that I have no doubt.” She regarded him for a long moment, then faced forward. A cool breeze lifted the tendrils of hair that escaped her chignon. “Mull is so different from England,” she said. “Perhaps you simply prefer a warmer climate? I imagine the winters here are raw.”

He imagined the truth of the matter was that she thought he preferred England because of the ladies. “Folks have ways of staying warm on cold winter nights.” He imagined one of those long nights in bed with Eve responding to him as she had last night, and felt himself harden. “There is a lovely waterfall not far from here,” he said. “Would you like to see it?”

She looked at him, anticipation sparkling in her eyes. “Do we have time?”

He would make time. “We do.”

Five minutes later, they turned a bend between rocky hills and a modest waterfall came into view up ahead.

“It is beautiful,” Eve cried.

They stopped where the mossy ground gave way to rocky terrain. Beyond, lay the pool created by the falls. Erroll helped Eve from her horse, and she took two steps toward the water, then angled her head left.

“There is a cave behind the falls.”

“There is,” he said.

“It must be too cold to go into the water?” She looked at him, excitement dancing in her eyes.

“In August, perhaps July, if it is a particularly warm year, you would be able to brave the water but, as I said before, the waters here are never truly warm.”

She slanted him a mischievous glance. “I wager you have braved that water.”

Erroll grinned. “I have, indeed. This was a favorite spot of mine.” And one he suspected was about to become a favorite for another reason entirely.

He retrieved the tartan he’d tucked in a saddlebag and spread it across the ground. “Shall we rest for a bit?”

“Absolutely. It is too lovely a day to hurry, do you not agree?”

“I agree wholeheartedly.”

He took her hand while she lowered herself onto the blanket, then sat down beside her. “That is a lovely riding habit you are wearing,” he said.