Page 44 of A Torn Allegiance
“Our style.” She liked the sound of that. “And what precisely is our style?”
“Riding. We should find the fastest stallions we can and ride out in the country.”
“Have you been talking to Duncan?”
“Are you asking if I’ve been getting advice from him about how best to win your interest?” He studied her.
“Yes.” She lifted her lashes. She hoped he had and then hoped he hadn’t.
“I have not.”
“So you have guessed at the very thing that would most appeal to me?”
“I feel it is more than simply guessing. I suggested what I would most like to do with you, knowing that part of the appeal would be to see you enjoy it too.”
He moved them closer to the veranda windows, which let in such a lovely breeze that she was suddenly plagued with a desire to walk in the cool night air.
They stayed, floating along in their dance on that cool breeze as if he’d read her mind.
“Then, once again, we are most suited.” She stepped closer, and his arms enclosed more about her until she felt almost as if she were in his embrace.
“Lady Elsie.” His voice came out as almost a whisper, but it settled on her like a caress, and she found herself wanting to lean closer to him.
“Mm?”
His eyes shone back, and his face moved closer.
They danced in silence, their gazes locked on each other. She saw in the depths of his eyes hints of the man he was, hints of his honor and loyalty, his determination, his strength. And suddenly she knew something that had never quite occurred to her before. Something that shook her in pleasant but life-altering ways.
The woman he admired would be blessed indeed.
And she wanted to be that woman.
Chapter Sixteen
Hayes cradled her, embraced her,held her while they danced, in a way he had never held another woman. He wanted every movement to be one that pulled her closer, that brought her heart against the pounding of his own. But he resisted the inclination to close the last inches between them. She was enchanting, beautiful, and interesting, but she might not wish for the same. She might not wish for anything from him at all. Even though her eyes revealed all to him, he second-guessed every urge to pull her close—she probably had no idea that he saw her caring, her desire. And it was almost his undoing. But would those feelings ever outweigh the great loyalty she felt for Scotland? Would they outweigh everything else holding her back, whatever it might be?
They moved in silence. Nothing he said would have made their dance more intimate. When the music finally stopped, he led her out onto the veranda as though one of them had suggested it.
When the coolness of the air descended over him, the refreshment brought a break to the spell they had both fallen under. He let his hand slide down at his side.
Her hand hung there as well, close. The air between them felt warm. As they approached the banister, he lifted her hand in his and laced their fingers together. “May I?”
She nodded. “I feel as though you needn’t ask, as if you read my every thought.”
He swallowed twice before he could respond. “Then, you felt it too.”
She stepped closer. “Yes. What does it mean?”
He brought her hand, still laced with his, to his mouth. “This closeness we feel?”
“Closeness.” She said the word with the tiniest hint of wariness. “Yes.”
He searched her face but could see no hint as to how to proceed. “I feel as though I could tell you anything right now, and you would understand. Might I... court you?” The words escaped before he had a plan for them, before he considered their ramifications, before even considering his crown, but he could never regret them, for they spoke the strongest desires of his heart.
She began to nod and then paused. “I... think so.”
“Perhaps we should give it a go—nothing official—and see if a courtship would suit.”
