Page 96 of Lords, Ladies and Love

Lachlan snorted. “I know how others view me. If I am not an amusement to them, I am the subject of their disdain.”

“Maybe you are. But it should not matter. You have achieved things that so few in your position will ever achieve. You have given your family a comfortable life. And should you have children, they shall have all the benefits of wealth.” She shifted closer to him, a hand to his arm. “You have done it, Lachlan. You need not let the opinions of others govern your behavior.”

He twisted slightly away from her. “Spoken like someone who will always have respect, regardless. I imagine your brothers may do whatever they please without fear of retribution.”

Minerva eyed him for several moments. Perhaps this was hopeless. She was not certain why a single kiss should botherher so anyway. As she had already told herself, she would be returning home before long, and Lachlan would be consigned to the memories of her past. But she’d be damned if she was consigned to such labels.

“My brothers certainly benefit from their wealth. That does not mean there are no consequences to their behavior. Goodness knows, Theo has been unable to escape the many damages his wife created.” She grasped his arm tighter and urged him to look at her. “Regardless, I know what it is like to be haunted by one’s past. You need to let go of it.”

His posture relaxed, and he sent a reluctant smile her way. “Must you speak so much sense, lass.”

“Always.”

“You are still shivering.”

She had hardly noticed she was still cold. It could have been from her annoyance or from the lingering feeling of his kiss, but heat flowed readily through her veins. However, her teeth still chattered, and when she glanced down at her hand upon his arm, she noted her fingers shook.

Lachlan sighed and enveloped her in his arms once more. “I will not kiss you, though,” he vowed, his tone amused.

“Not even—” A flash briefly lit the interior of the cottage. Then a crack echoed across the valley, followed by heavy rumble. A cry escaped her, and her throat tightened. For a moment, she was in the carriage again, aware of a gunshot having been let off and waiting for it to be turned upon her. She tried to draw in a shaky breath, but the sickness in her throat made it almost impossible.

The hands on her back rubbed up and down. “You are safe. All is well.” He said the words as though singing a soothing lullaby to a child. With each rub of his hands and each accented word, she felt the noose loosening. Eventually, she was able to take in full breaths. She leaned her head against his chest.

When would this be over? No wonder he had no desire to kiss her. As much as she thought she had made progress, perhaps she had not. Who was she to lecture him about his past when one lightning bolt sent her reeling?

Minerva lifted her head to look up at him. The terror had passed, quicker than ever before. Maybe she was not as strong as she had hoped, but with him looking down at her, his eyes searching hers, his heart beating fiercely under her palm, she knew she needed to find even more bravery.

Bravery to pursue this. To find out what it was between them. And to kiss him again.

Chapter Eleven

Lachlan drew the wagon to stop beside the inn. He peered up at the battered sign that swung haphazardly from an angled hinge that looked as though it might fall at any time, confirming they were at the correct location.

He glanced at the sleeping lass next to him. Minerva had made a makeshift pillow out of his jacket, her long neck exposed as her head leaned against his shoulder. Her hand was loosely folded in his, something she had initiated right before she fell asleep.

A lad scurried out from the stable and lifted his cap briefly. “Stable your horses for you, sir?”

Lachlan nodded and cleared his throat, lightly shaking Minerva. “Minerva,” he whispered. “Minerva, we’re here.”

She shifted but did not wake. He tried once more to shake Minerva awake, but all she did was move her head farther onto his shoulder, her wild golden curls spilling into his lap.

Lachlan couldn’t resist a small smile. She was charming, even when deep in sleep. He gently coaxed her head back up before stepping down from the carriage. He reached inside and helped Minerva stumble out of the carriage.

A whine escaped her throat. Her eyes fluttered open, groggy. “We’re here already?” she mumbled.

“Aye,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Can you walk with me into the inn?”

She shook her head, her eyes fluttering closed.

Lachlan glanced at the lad, who shrugged. “I’ll get your bags, sir.”

“Thank you.” Lachlan lifted Minerva, sweeping her feet off the ground as he cradled her in his arms, holding her small body against his broad chest. She tucked her head just under his chin, her arms wrapping around his neck.

He easily carried her off the street and into the inn, where they checked in, and he carried her up the stairs.

It took some fiddling to fit the key into the lock with his arms full, but he managed to open the door and stride into the room, the fireplace already lit and warm. He carefully set Minerva on the bed. She curled into a tight ball. Lachlan chuckled, bending to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “I don’t think you thought this solo travelling thing through, lass,” he said softly, removing her hat and gingerly touching a soft curl.

Minerva stirred. “You don’t plan out an adventure,” she mumbled, cracking her eyes open. “They occur when one takes a leap of faith.”

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