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Elizabeth was strengthened by their words. She was not a harlot, after all. She had not expected that her friends would have been able to share her worries about being a wanton woman, but she was more than grateful. It made her seemingly wicked and dark desires
“So, I shall.”
The rest of the evening was spent in stories of home and the men in their lives and Julia’s future child. Elizabeth was smiling as she finally laid down to sleep in her own room hours later. All in all, it had been a very good day.
* * *
The next morning, Charlotte and Julia slept late, but Elizabeth was anxious to ride again, and so as so, after speaking to Mrs. MacLean for a little while and taking a fresh scone from the kitchens, she was down at the stables, having her horse prepared. She tried to tell herself that her desire to ride had nothing to do with the kiss she shared with Liam upon his hill. Not at all. In fact, she intended to expressly avoid that hill.
However, there was something about the way the Isle called to her. Once she had first set eyes upon it without the distraction of Liam or Charlotte or the patients in that one brief yet beautiful moment, something had changed in her.
She finally knew that such beauty existed in the world, and the sight had taken her breath away. She now craved to see it again. Its existence renewed her, emboldened her, and breathed fresh life into her. Once she had seen it, she’d inwardly resolved that while she was there on Mull, she wanted to soak up the energy of the Isle as much as she could. It was making her into a new and better person, even if it forced her to do things like jump into a strange man’s arms.
She clutched tightly to the horse as it rode with speed and agility across the heather and the craggy hills. Liam’s house stood in the corner of her eye, but she stayed as far from it as she could. She wasn’t sure where he was today, but she dared not risk surprisingly running into him again when she needed to think clearly when she saw him next. If she was kissing him passionately one day, who was to say that she would not be lying in bed with him the next?
Keeping her mind on the view and the rhythm of her horse, she tried to relax and let her muscles smooth out as she slowed atop one of the other high hills. It looked down on the nearby village and to the forests that crowded the edge of the Sound’s shore. She leaned forward to brush her hand through the horse’s soft mane. “You have done very well, my dear. It is a pity I have not yet learned your name. I will remedy that as soon as possible.”
She sighed with contentment as she took in the view. The air seemed sweet and fresh, nearly heavenly. This was her Heaven, she thought. What a gift to taste it before descending into a possible Hell back in England?
“Talking tae yer horse, are ye? Seems odd behavior for a fancy English lass. Surely yer tutors taught ye that animals cannae reply.”
Elizabeth felt goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. She recognized the voice for its sultry tones, and this time, they were also edged in sarcasm. She dreaded having to look upon her.
Atop her own horse, staring out to sea, with her shoulders back and the corners of her lips turned up into a smirk, Brea looked akin to a queen.
Elizabeth replied calmly and austerely, “I thought it normal behavior to do so. They are treasured animals, after all. Many people treat their horses as friends.” She patted her hand on the horse’s neck, protectively.
Brea smiled. “So ye are both bonny and just a little bit mad. I suppose we could like each other in a different world.”
Elizabeth frowned, frustrated that her precious time of isolation was interrupted yet again and by the same person. “I suppose I should take that as a sort of skewed compliment. You are Brea, correct?”
Brea nodded, her loose dark hair moving seductively in the soft breeze. Everything about her was sensual, and Elizabeth still found herself jealous of how the young woman presented herself unabashedly to the world. Deep down, she wished that she too could be so brazen without experiencing a guilty conscience.
Brea said, “Aye. ‘Tis I, Mistress. But I feel introductions are beyond us now that I have seen ye in such an intimate embrace and with a Highlander nae less.”
Elizabeth steeled herself, but she could still feel heat brushing her cheeks. She was thankful for the coolness of the air, which would help keep some of the redness from her face. “And for that, I do apologize. It is very unlike me to do an act so openly. I did not realize that others would be present for it.” She kept her eyes forward, for Brea’s dark ones were strong and daring, and she wished to cower underneath her gaze.
Brea sighed. “Now that I have seen what I have seen, I feel it my duty tae warn ye about Liam MacLean. ‘Tis only right that I do so, ye see.” Elizabeth waited, wondering what on earth she could possibly have to say or why she felt it incumbent upon her to say anything at all.
“I know men, lass. Liam is a womanizer, pure and simple, lass. I saw the way ye kissed him yesterday as if yer very life depended on it, and as if ye expected something from it.” This time, Elizabeth blushed deeply and looked down at her hands, wishing she could be anywhere else but there.If only Mull was not so small!“What ye hope for will nae happen. He is nae the man tae catch in that way. He is nae the marrying kind. Surely ye could find yerself someone much more suitable instead of wasting yer embraces on that man.”
Elizabeth looked back at Brea in confusion. Was that what Elizabeth was hoping for with Liamor with John? She searched in her heart. She honestly had not even thought about it. Her only thoughts had been for a bit of diversion and an escape from her former self. She had also been slightly overcome and had lost her sense in the moment when she’d kissed him. The idea of marriage to a Scotsman only had entered her thoughts when Charlotte mentioned John as a possible suitor her father would approve of. But with Liam, did she expect some sort of declaration or relationship after their kiss?
No. She didn’t. “I do not know why you presume to know my affairs, Brea, but I was not attempting to go after the man’s heart as a husband-hunter. It was a moment we shared. There was nothing beyond that.”
Brea grimaced a little, but then it cleared into a wide smile. “So ye wouldnae mind if I told him that, then?”
Elizabeth clenched her hands tightly on the reins. This woman was attempting to weave her own tangled web, and she knew not the reason. “Why should I mind? I am certain he thinks nothing of me, as you have so elegantly put it. I also do not understand why you should take the time out of your busy day to make sure I knew about it.”
Exactly. What could Brea gain? There were no feelings between her and Liam besides the feelings of heated desire that had been kindled with their kiss. Were there? She thought of his smile and the charming way he’d complimented her dancing at the wedding. He was an endearing man, to be sure, but why would Brea think she could be injured by these revelations of his character? She had been able enough to see his fondness for the opposite sex and his very skilled way of revealing his interest.
Brea bristled, and Elizabeth was satisfied that her comment had struck true. Brea clicked to her horse to head back down to the village. “Be warned, Sassenach. The man doesnae want ye for a wife. Whatever fancy words ye have tae say tae deny it, I ken well enough what I saw between ye. Stay away from him. Ye will only get further entwined. Leave men like that tae the whores in the brothel. And for a wee more advice, I would turn yer eyes tae John Campbell. He is on the hunt for a wife and seems tae think much of ye.”
Elizabeth watched Brea’s dark hair flying behind her as she rode hard and fast. The silence after she left, which had previously been peaceful, was now deafening. Elizabeth should have been used to harsh words and people thinking they knew better than her after a long life under her father’s thumb, but this encounter irked her. Even though her father had not always been a good man and had constantly demanded obedience from her, he was still her father. He was invested in her life. But this woman who had known her only from two previous occasions, both in which they did not speak, dared to adjust her course in life?
She decided to return to the stables and forget her hope of time alone with her thoughts in the presence of an awe-inspiring view. Brea had seen to that. Once she entered Duart again, smoothing her skirts and hair, Mrs. MacLean approached her.
“Lady Darling, ye have had a letter.”
Elizabeth froze, fearful of who it might be from. “Ah, I see. Thank you, Mrs. MacLean. And please do call me Elizabeth or at least lass, if you must.”
The older woman placed the letter into her hands, her cheeks red with mirth. “Ye are a good lass, I can tell. I hope ye dinnae let anyone tell ye otherwise.”
Touched, Elizabeth didn’t know what to say, and instead, she smiled weakly. She watched Mrs. MacLean leave the room, and then, she tore open the letter.
