Page 85 of Lords, Ladies and Love

He gave a quick smile. “You are no burden at all, lass. Be assured of that. Sleep well.”

He headed into his room before she could say anything else. Not that she was certain what she could possibly say. Perhaps it would have been to ask why he looked at her so intently at times when he thought she was not looking? Or to ponder as to why her skin tingled whenever he was in her proximity? But, of course, she could not say such things to him. To read into such things was folly indeed.

Regardless of the acknowledgement of this folly, she could not ignore the tight band of excitement twisting around her stomach as she considered the past two days at Lachlan’s side. She would miss him once she began her journey again.

Minerva undressed quickly. Though a fire had been lit in the small room, the windows rattled from the wind and little gusts swirled about her skin. She washed with haste and donned her nightgown before jumping into the bed and burrowing under the sheets.

As promised, the sheets were clean and scented with soap. They reminded her a little of Lachlan, who apparently did not wear cologne or pomade and always smelled fresh and simple. Really, she should not have even gotten so close as to know what he smelled like, but in this farmhouse, there was no avoiding oneanother. The cramped kitchen and small rooms lent themselves to being close to one another. If her mother or brothers saw what she had been doing the past few days, regardless of having chaperones around, they would be scandalized indeed.

She blew out the candle and closed her eyes, pulling the sheets up tight around her neck. Having had little sleep the previous night, nor the night before that, fatigue weighted her eyelids. She would not complain, however. Being so tired and concerned for Mary had made her forget any worries about the rest of the journey. Goodness, in Lachlan’s company, and with being so busy, she could almost feel like a normal person.

The door thrust open, slamming against the wall and making her scream. She jolted up right, blinking to focus on the silhouette in the doorway. Her cheeks were wet, and her heart raced. It was only then that she realized she was back in the farmhouse, that she had been dreaming… dreaming of that awful night.

Lachlan barreled into the room, his broad shoulders lit from behind by the lamp in the hallway. “Lass?” Before she could respond, he came to her side and bundled her into his arms.

Minerva scarcely had a moment to fathom what was happening, but tears sprung from her eyes as memories of her nightmare flooded her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her tight to him, using his hand to press her head against his chest.

Sobs racked her. She tried drawing breaths through her tight throat, but they were painful. For the briefest moment between him waking her and her realizing where she was, she had been back there, locked in a small room, surrounded by men who wanted to kill her. She thought she was going to die.

“Shh,” he soothed. “I have you, lass. No one can hurt you.”

She could not fathom why he was in her room or how she had quite ended up in his arms, but she curled her fingersaround his body and listened to the steady beat of his heart. His warmth seeped into her. However, she could not seem to cease crying. Which was not something she did often. Perhaps it was because she was in his arms, perhaps it was because she felt safe. Whatever the reason was, the tears kept on coming.

He continued to mutter things to her. She hardly knew what half of the words were and suspected some of them were Gaelic, but she appreciated his deep tones rumbling through his chest.

The ache in her throat eased. She gulped down breaths until the crying slowed and fixed her concentration on the feel of his body around her. She could almost forget the images that would no doubt be sealed behind her eyelids in the days to come. His hand shifted from her hair to her face that he used to lift her chin. Through a watery gaze, she spied him staring down at her, his eyes full of concern.

“There now,” he murmured. “All is well, little lassie.”

She wasn’t certain whether she responded or not. Maybe she asked him something with her eyes, some silent plea. Either way, he responded in the only way she wanted him to. Her heart pounded in her chest as he lowered his lips to hers, taking one last glance into her eyes as though asking permission. She lifted her chin a little higher.

Lachlan laid his lips across hers firmly. She could taste the salt of her own tears. His mouth was warm and secure, much like his presence. He moved his mouth across hers confidently and without apology. She sank deep into his hold, gripping tight to his body. Tears dried up, and the chill that had swept through her body upon waking vanished entirely to be replaced by a furnace of heat burning low in her belly and surging through to the ends of her fingertips.

He explored the shape of her mouth, his hand firm around her jaw. She opened her lips to him, and he tasted her with his tongue. Nothing could have prepared her for the sensationsthat rolled through her. Such a simple gesture, and her mind was awash with images—pleasant images. Now, she wanted to touch him further, feel the flesh beneath his linen shirt, have his hands touch all parts of her body. She had never been kissed by a man before—at least not properly. But inside was an innate knowledge that no other man could kiss like this.

When he eased away, she released a sound of disappointment.

He chuckled gruffly then pushed hair from her face and swiped the dampness still lingering on her cheeks with a shirtsleeve. He offered her a gentle smile. “Feel better?”

She nodded. She really did. It might not have been the most common way to calm a distressed woman, but it certainly worked.

“Would you like to tell me what it was all about? I heard you screaming. I thought there might be some sort of an attacker or something.” He gave a grunt. “I don’t mind telling you you scared the life out of me.”

“I am sorry,” she said. “I do not suffer these nightmares very often, but I know I scream when I have them.”

“What are these nightmares about?”

He continued to hold her, and she could not bring herself to move away. Nor could she lie to him. This man had been good to her, and he needed to hear the truth, even if he did not fully understand it. Sometimes, she did not understand it herself. What happened was so long ago, and yet, it dictated every move she had made since. While her family were sympathetic, she knew many of them were frustrated that it stopped her from doing things with them or even seeing some of them. Cousins and aunts and uncles who lived in the country were never visited, and her siblings and Mama had to make excuses for her.

He waited patiently while she decided how to start. If she closed her eyes, she could remember being back in that carriage,hearing the gunshots ring out, the governess wrapping her arms about Minerva, and yet, even as an eight-year-old, she knew that no embrace from a governess could protect her.

“I was travelling alone,” she started. “Well, my governess was with me.” She glanced up at him then concentrated on the dwindling embers in the fire, all the time aware of his patient silence. “I was eight.” She drew in a shaky breath as the images of what happened that afternoon prevailed upon her. She could still remember the scent of gunpowder lingering in the air as the door was yanked open, floods of light from outside shimmering briefly across the interior of the carriage that was quickly locked out by a large, intimidating shadow. Gun in hand, the man stepped into the vehicle and yanked her from it.

“You are safe.” Lachlan rubbed a thumb over her knuckles.

Closing her eyes briefly, she drew in another breath and opened them. “Some men stopped the vehicle,” she told him. “They had weapons. I think the driver tried to fight them off and...and he was killed for his troubles.”

Her eyes grew hot. She swallowed hard and twined her hands together in her lap. Staring at them, she forced herself to remain factual. She had told the story a few times since it had happened but not recently.

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