Page 26 of The Widow Wore Plaid

He frowned and cocked his head. “You wouldn’t like to eat luncheon here?” I assure you it is quite safe. We won’t get wet if we stay sufficiently back.”

Lowering her eyelids to mere slits, she looked askance at him. “You only meant for us to come here to picnic at the falls?”

“Well,” he drawled the word out, “perhaps that is not all I had in mind.” He pulled her closer and lifted her chin. “There are other pastimes we could indulge ourselves in as well.”

To the left of them a branch snapped loudly.

Heart pounding, Jane froze. “What was that?”

He shook his head, motioned her to silence, then stealthily eased in the direction of the snapped branch.

Chapter Twelve

Immediately silent, the forest around them took on a sinister atmosphere. Jane scanned the area, squinting to see into the trees first left, then right, searching for an intruder. Had someone followed them here?

“I think that he is the culprit.” Kinellan pointed in the direction the sound had come from. “See him? There, about thirty yards back.” His calm, soothing voice allayed some of her fears.

Peering in the direction he pointed, she at first saw nothing until a slight movement brought the figure of a huge stag into focus. Relief shot through her and she relaxed her grip on Kinellan’s arm. “He’s magnificent.”

“He is that.” Kinellan pulled her back into his arms. “I might not mind him witnessing our passion”—he slid a finger down her cheek—“but I think you might.”

The huge beast threw his head up, seemed to see them, and crashed away into the forest.

But the silent woods could still harbor other, more dangerous creatures. “I think I wouldn’t be comfortable here, my love. So exposed to . . . everything.” She glanced around again, expecting to see another animal, but the forest seemed abandoned to them alone. “I’d always imagine something watching us.”

Kinellan shook his head, a look of disappointment flitting across his face. “Pity. I had hoped we would enjoy ourselves in this beautiful setting, but I will not ask it of you if it would lessen your pleasure.” A pensive expression came over his face as he stared down the trail they had come up. “Although perhaps a compromise might present itself. Let us remount. I believe there is a place nearby with a rather primitive appeal for me, but where you will feel safe from prying eyes.”

“Where?” Jane moved to her horse and Kinellan tossed her into the saddle.

“Let me surprise you.” Kinellan mounted Hector and turned him down the path.

“More surprises? I had no idea you were one who loved such things.” She gave Penelope her head and the horse followed dutifully behind Hector. “I’ll have to arrange several for you after we are married.” She actually might have fun if she were the one doing the surprising.

“Oh, I don’t like to be surprised at all,” he called over his shoulder. “But I do love to surprise others.”

“We must have a talk about these odd proclivities of yours, Kinellan.”

The trail soon opened out into a clearing in which stood a small, rustic stone house. Weathered for centuries, it seemed, the structure had seen better days. The gray stone walls were intact although some of the upper windows were boarded over and the roof, made of oak shingles, sagged here and there, with holes that needed patching elsewhere.

“What is this place?” After the first moment of surprise, the building’s charm began to exert itself on Jane.

“Originally it was a tenant’s house in the late seventeenth century.” Kinellan jumped down and came to her. “When the last set of tenants left it, my great-grandfather fashioned it into a hunting lodge of sorts, for him and his five sons. Here.” He unhooked her leg from the pommel and lifted her to the ground. “Over the years it has fallen into disuse. I think I may have stayed here to hunt with my father once or twice, but that was at least twenty years ago.”

After tethering the horses to a nearby bush, Kinellan took her hand and led her toward the front door, a brave pediment above with the Seton coat of arms, a shield on which were three crescents surrounded by a double tressure. “Our coat of arms designates an alignment with the ancient Royal House of Scotland, but that was long ago.” He chuckled. “Dinna fash yourself, Jane lass. We’ll nae be expected t’ take up royal duties.” He pushed the door open, then scooped her into his arms.

“Ahh!” Startled, she grabbed him around the neck as he strode over the threshold and into the dim, cool interior. “What are you doing? Put me down.”

“Practicing for Friday night, sweetheart.” He sank his mouth onto hers, stealing the breath from her.

She tightened her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Slowly, careful not to break the kiss, he let her slide down until her feet touched the floor. Finally, he pulled his lips from hers, although they lingered as long as possible, and stared down at her. “Welcome to Seton Lodge, my dear.”

Jane strained to see through the gloom. They stood in a good-sized main room or hall, with a large fireplace at one end, a table and several chairs pulled up in front of it, and a staircase at the opposite end of the house. A small chamber lay tucked away beneath the stairs. Its open door revealed a rudimentary bed. What she could see of the inside was in good repair, although every inch of it could use a good cleaning.

While she’d been taking in the main floor, Kinellan had gone outside and returned with his carry bags. He untied them and folded back the lid. “Lunch.”

“You think of everything.” At the delicious smells wafting up from the bags, her stomach growled loudly and Kinellan laughed. “Thank goodness.”