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“Ye must nae die in any way,” he told her, squeezing her hand.
She raised a teasing eyebrow. “Does this mean ye would care if I died? Would ye nae be grateful to have yer solitude restored to ye?”
“I wouldnae care,” he replied, with a wink. “Iwould, however, be troubled by the prospect of findin’ another wife, and it’s just so hard to find a tolerable one, ye ken? My sisters would arrange more balls, harass me to my wit’s end, and it might force me away from my Castle altogether, to go and be a hermit in the wood somewhere. So, if ye could, please do me the favor of nae dyin’ before me.”
She chuckled, still feeling the burn of his kiss against her skin. “Felix, I think ye just lost that half an ounce of sympathy.”
“It was only a matter of time.” He smiled and slowly withdrew his hand from hers, as he walked to his own horse and climbed into the saddle. “What do ye say to the same wager—first one back to the Castle has to dine with Kenney?”
She shook her head. “Nay, thank ye. I wouldnae want to risk havin’ to be the one to listen to him eat. I’ve heard quieter pigs.”
“Ye realize I only let ye win, aye?” He turned his horse around.
Before he could trick her, Edwina squeezed her thighs and urged her horse forward. “Then that can be the wager!” she shouted back over her shoulder. “If ye win, ye get to keep yer pride!”
As she charged along the rolling moorland with the wind in her hair and the sunlight beaming down upon her face, she looked toward the horizon and to the future. Yet, one question nagged at the back of her mind.
Who are ye, Felix Quinn?He no longer resembled the brute she had first encountered, but nor was he the silent, serious fellow that everyone—including himself—claimed that he was.ThisFelix smiled often, laughed a great deal, made amusing jests, and had no difficulty expressing himself. After all he had told her, she wondered if she knew more about this mysterious man than even his family.
Or, maybe, his renowned charm was greater than she thought, and all of this laughter and vulnerability was just his way of putting her under his spell. Which man was the real Felix? Perhaps, she had not even met him yet.
CHAPTER9
After an unfortunate encounteron the return ride with a deceptive puddle of muddy water—more of a pool of muck that had covered Edwina and her horse—she had made her excuses to change her attire. To Felix’s concerned surprise, he was disappointed by her departure.
“Will ye nae eat somethin’ first?” he had asked, gaining a laugh from her.
“Would ye have me stinkin’ out yer Great Hall with whatever I’m doused in? Nay, Felix, I think I’ll retire for a while, until I feel less like I’ve slithered out of a mire.” She had continued to laugh all the way out of the stables, and he had clung to the sound, relishing it.
Now, alone again, he did not feel so comfortable with the solitude. He had so much more to say and no one to say it to.
What is she doin’ to me?He shivered as if a spider had just crawled down his collar. He could not allow her charm and her beauty and his enjoyment of her company to cloud his judgment. She could not stay. She could not be allowed to remain close to him. His heart would not be able to take the strain of it.
Taking some straw to rub down his own horse, he got lost in his loud thoughts: the sensation of Edwina in his arms, the way her waist felt beneath his hands, and the intense scent of honeysuckle that still clung to his lips, transferred by his kiss against her skin. The scent was like the woman it belonged to, infiltrating his senses, making him long for more.
“This willnae come to any good, Lad,” he whispered to his horse.
At that moment, John appeared. Embarrassment flooded Felix’s cheeks, feeling as if he had been caught red handed. His Man-at-Arms simply raised an amused eyebrow.
“Was I interruptin’, M’Laird?”
Felix cleared his throat. “Nay at all. Do ye nae speak to yer horse from time to time?”
“Nae usually when I think someone might be watchin’.” John smiled and moved closer, putting out his hand. “I can finish that for ye, M’Laird. Yer sisters are leavin’ and I thought ye might want to bid them farewell.”
Felix furrowed his brow. “I thought they’d departed already?”
“It seems nae, M’Laird. I overheard Lady Millar sayin’ she dinnae want to leave without ensurin’ there was no mess left behind, and Mrs. Murray said somethin’ about wantin’ a word with Lady Edwina.” John paused. “The young lady has retired to her chambers without intervention, so I daenae think that word has been had yet.”
Felix took a breath. “Thank ye, John. I suppose I ought to go to them.”
“As ye prefer, M’Laird.” John never pushed his Laird to do something that would make him uncomfortable, though his gentle suggestions often persuaded Felix anyway.
Handing the straw over to John, Felix made to leave. At the threshold to the stables, however, he turned back. “Might ye do me a favor, John?”
“Of course, M’Laird.”
“Could ye do some investigatin’ in regard to Lady Edwina. Find out everythin’ ye can about her, the good and the bad,” Felix instructed. He supposed he hoped that if he learned enough about the bad, it might taint all of the good that he had witnessed.
