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Tarley reached deeper into the brambles, hoping Lachlan wouldn’t notice her trembling hands. “It would seem that I have more suitors than I want.”
She could feel Lachlan’s gaze on her but refused to look at him. When she didn’t, he turned and helped, grumbling each time he encountered a thorn.
“The key is to avoid those sharp things.”
“Right.” Lachlan pulled a berry and sucked in a breath. A bead of blood welled at his fingertip.
Tarley set down her basket. “Here. Let me see it.”
Lachlan held out his hand.
“You’re being a baby.”
“I think pampered prince is probably a more apt description.”
Tarley couldn’t help herself, she smiled and looked up at him. “Perfect description.”
Lachlan grinned.
Her heart answered, dancing around inside her chest with too much fervor. Ignoring it, she withdrew the scrap of fabric she used for her braid from her skirt pocket, pressing it against Lachlan’s finger.
“Stop,” he said. “It’s fine. You’re always trying to save me,” he added but he didn’t pull away. “Who is that man to you?”
“Jealous?” she asked.
“Yes.” His eyes were steady and serious.
Her smile faded, and heat streamed throughout her at his admission. “I think this time, you might have saved me.” She looked up at him once more. “Though I’m not quite sure how–”
Lachlan looked chagrined, his gaze sliding from her face to his hand. “I might have watched you leave and followed.”
Tarley dabbed until the blood stopped welling. Though it didn’t take long, she didn’t release him, instead holding his hand as her heart flipped in her chest. She recognized how easy it was to be with him, how safe he made her feel, and knew it was too dangerous to let down her guard.
Chastising herself for not releasing him, she said, “Well, thank you.” Then she did something ridiculous and squeezed his hand.
Lachlan stepped closer. “Tarley–”
She looked up and glanced at his lips as she did, but just as she thought he might lean forward to kiss her, she cleared her throat and stepped away. “I think that’s enough for pie.” She picked up the basket. “We should get back.”
Though she could tell he wanted to argue, he didn’t. Instead, he nodded. “Lead the way,” he said, “and I will follow.”
22
After finding Tarley cornered in the brambles by that ridiculous doctor, it took Lachlan several days to work out his anger. He’d wanted to pummel that stupid man’s face for cornering Tarley like that. Then he’d wanted to haul Tarley over his shoulder and lock her in her room to keep her safe. Neither, he knew, would ever change Tarley’s mind about marrying him, even if his motives were to protect her.
As he worked off his frustration, he’d worked in the dining room, which had been a disaster the first time he’d seen someone put their hands on Tarley, then cleared rooms and done laundry with Genevieve, who was sweet but chatted his ear off about nothing. He found out he wasn’t attuned to the finer details of cleaning, and it was when Credence had finally suggested he work with Trevis in the stables that he discovered a comfortable rhythm. The downside was how infrequently he got to see Tarley.
While the barn usually made him feel content, today he was feeling sorry for himself.
There’d been no message from his family nor the arrival of guards, which only increased his worry that something worse had happened on that pass than even he knew. If his father had gotten his message and the men had perished, it would take longer to assemble a new team to make the journey to Sevens.
The queen was adding to his stress with pressure about the impending marriage to a reluctant bride.
And it was his birthday.
While he wasn’t necessarily one for his birthday, he knew had he been home, there would have been a party. Here in Sevens, no one knew, which made him feel even more alone. Feeling sorry for himself was ridiculous, but he couldn’t seem to help it.
“Ollie?” Trevis called from the tack room.
