Page 30 of A Scoundrel’s Promise

Chapter Eight

Liam stared out the window of his chambers, absently buttoning his shirt, while the setting sun bathed the hills a warm gold. He would miss the abbey. The constable had discovered that Mallatratt had purchased a ticket on a ship bound for Canada. Liam swore under his breath. The man had escaped justice, but, at least, he was gone from Mackenzie’s life.

Now, it was time for him to do the same.

He glanced around his room. He wouldn’t take much. Just a few books and an extra plaid. The rest, even his sketchbook, he would leave behind.

The past week he’d come to realize just how far Mackenzie had succeeded in breaking through to his heart. He would miss her perky smile and her challenges.

“We are ready to leave,” Kyla called from the hall for the third time. “Are you coming?”

Considering his strained relationship with Lord Dunn, he’d had no intention of attending Lady Dunn’s party. Kyla had insisted. Why, he hadn’t a clue.

“Don’t let me keep you,” Liam replied.

After a moment, Kyla poked her head through the open doorway. “Do you promise to come?”

Liam nearly smiled. He would miss her and her damned persistence.

“Well?” she prodded.

He nodded.

“I shall hold you to your word, Liam.” She pursed her lips.

“Aye.” Most likely, it would be at least a year before she saw him next. She wouldn’t remember.

She withdrew into the hallway and, a few minutes later, the clatter of fading hooves in the courtyard signaled both she and Ewan’s departure.

Liam stuffed his plaid and books into a saddlebag, slung the saddlebag over his shoulder, and went downstairs. Strange how the abbey had come to feel like home in so short a time.

Liam slipped out of the abbey and strode to his saddled and waiting horse. He affixed his saddlebag to the saddle, mounted, and urged his horse across the courtyard and through the abbey gate. He would spend the night in Inverness. Kyla would be upset upon receiving his letter of farewell, but she would eventually understand. Ewan already did.

Liam slackened the reins and allowed his horse to set the pace. It wasn’t until he broke from the trees and heard the strains of a quartet floating on the wind that he realized he’d turned his horse toward Newborne. The manor house stood aglow with light. Carriages lined the drive. Somewhere in the ballroom, Mackenzie’s eyes sparkled as she tossed her head back and laughed at something Gilford said.

Why torture himself so? Even more curiously, why was he urging his horse down the drive when he had no plans to make himself known? Did he hope Mackenzie stood in her room, peeking at him through the curtains as she had only days ago? He looked up at her window. Low light flickered in her window, but she didn’t stand looking down at him. Why should she, when she had Lord Gilford?

He guided his horse around the mansion toward Freya’s paddock. The proud, majestic Arabian reminded him of Mackenzie in so many ways. Why visit the animal? Because he couldn’t bear to let the last ties to Mackenzie go.

Damn, he was a fool.

Liam neared the paddock. The moon and house provided enough light to reveal an empty paddock. He pulled the left rein to circle back the way he’d come. The horse started to turn, when a shadow separated from the stable to the left.

“Liam?”

Liam drew a sharp breath. Mackenzie. Alone. In the dim light, he could see only her silhouette as the night wind molded her pelisse to her body.

He halted his horse, leapt from the saddle and strode toward her.

“You came,” her voice hitched.

“Is not Lord Gilford waiting for you inside?” he asked, his voice hoarse with a jealousy he couldn’t hide.

She snorted. “All the more fool, if he is. I was coming to find you.”

Liam halted in front of her. “Is he not your fiancé?” He held his breath.

“Does the idea of Lord Gilford marrying me bother you?” She tilted her head.