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Perhaps he should not have added that, even if she herself made that point. But then she smiled, that sudden full-bloom smile that had made him first think of a garden pixie—mischievous, whimsical, bursting with life. Her lips looked fuller when she smiled, warmer and softer to the touch. Then it was furled back, but a smile remained, hovering and tentative.
‘That would be easiest. But I reserve the right to resort to “Your Grace” when I see fit.’
‘You mean when you wish to goad me.’
‘Precisely, Benneit.’
It was only marginally less unsettling than her pronunciation of Lochmore, but he smiled at her determined grasping at his olive branch.
‘Well, if you do resort to it, be warned I might retaliate with Cousin Joane.’
Her little nose wrinkled.
‘I hate that most of all. I shall have to dole out my taunts with care, then.’
‘That is all I ask. Or better yet, desist altogether.’
She stood, shaking out her sack skirts, and instinctively he stood.
‘No, then you would have no excuse to lose your patience with me and that would make you even crosser.’
She was gone before he could respond, which was just as well. He turned to the window. The grey skies were turning to dusk and the fire was fading. It was too late now, but tomorrow he would make the effort to return in time to read Jamie a bedtime story.
Chapter Twelve
‘I thought we were riding to the village, Jamie.’
‘There’s another path.’ Jamie’s eyes slid away from hers as he urged his pony onwards down the left side of the fork in the road.
Jo cast a glance back at the village of Lochmore and nudged her steed into motion, wondering what Jamie was up to. He had sulked all morning and so she had finally given in and agreed to ride with him to the village, but now it appeared he had other plans in mind.
She liked the village and it certainly looked inviting in the sunshine. The sky was as clear as a bolt of silk and the turquoise blue was reflected in the bay where a few fishing boats lingered. The rest were dots on the ruler-straight horizon separating blue from blue. Pretty cream-coloured houses lined the port and radiated out in a series of small winding roads and a wide white-watered burn spilled into the bay, marking the edge of the village beyond which a forest rose up towards the mountains in the distance.
For a moment she remained caught in this perfect image, wondering what it would be like to live in such a place. A small house of her own. Perhaps a friend or two. She was an impecunious widow, so surely social conventions would not bar her from forming friendships outside her own class? Perhaps a place like this even needed a schoolmistress? Would the Duke object if she chose to stay in his domain?
‘This way, Jo.’
Jamie’s impatient tones penetrated her foolish dreams, recalling her to the present and to her immediate problem. His little steed was surefooted and quite fleet for its size and after a moment Jo spurred hers on as well. Jamie was intent on something, that was clear, and perhaps it was better to indulge his silent insistence.
‘Very well. Lead on, Lord Glenarris.’
He grinned at her, his eyes sparkling, and some of her malaise eased. At least one Lochmore found her entertaining.
They crested another rise and Jamie pulled his pony to a halt, which was lucky because Jo could only stare at the apparition. It was no Scottish cottage or glum castle, but a large, beautiful house built along classical lines in a pale, muted gold stone that could not possibly be indigenous. It stood on a low cliff, but the grounds fell away behind it into an extensive walled garden whose colourful wildness appeared perfectly intentional. It was such a peculiar touch of England in the raw Scottish landscape around the castle that she felt her eyes prick with sudden homesickness, even though there was no home to pine for.
By the time she reached Jamie he had tethered his pony and was knocking on the large door that stood between twin colonnades. Her confusion increased as the door opened and Angus scowled out at them, his frown shifting to surprise as he saw Jo and Jamie.
‘Mrs Langdale!’
‘Angus?’
Before she could even formulate a coherent question, Jamie sneaked past Angus.
‘Wait,’ Angus said, but Jamie was already darting down the hallway. Jo hurried after him. She had no idea what was afoot, but she did not want Jamie to get into trouble. At the end of the corridor Jamie opened the door and rushed in and she followed, ready with apologies.
