Page 35 of Waiting for a Scot Like You
Pressing on, he said, “I didn’t want to be one of those officers who just told his men what to do and sat back to collect the glory. Learned about incendiary devices and explosives from one of my men. I thought about how to parlay that knowledge into something I could do now that the war’s over but...” He shook his head. “I’ve been adrift since returning to England.”
There was no earthly reason why he ought to tell her that, when he himself was only now coming to terms with his restlessness and lack of purpose. Hell, only Rotherby had ever directly addressed those unwonted and unwanted feelings.
And yet here he was, telling her parts of himself he did not quite understand.
“It’s been two years,” she pointed out gently.
He fought to keep from growling, frustrated with himself. “I know. I’m following all the rules, and yetI cannot seem to shake this sense of aimlessness . . . I hate it. I hate everything about it.”
She slid her hand across the blanket, but then stopped short before she could clasp his. “There’s something for you, surely.”
“There is.” He forced himself to exhale and to not want to feel her touch. “Rotherby offered me a position as the estate manager of Carriford. I’m certain it’s the answer.”
“Theanswer?” She regarded him, and the skepticism in her expression made his spine tighten. “Is there such a thing?”
“Aye, there is,” he said firmly. “And for me, Carriford is it.”
The estatehadto be the solution to his purposelessness, because nothing else seemed right. The possibility that it might not be sent little filaments of panic through him, but he ignored them because finding meaningful employment was precisely what he should do. Surely when he was ensconced at Carriford with an abundance of responsibilities, he would no longer feel as though he was floating through life, grounding himself in order and obligation.
They hadn’t traveled more than five miles from where they had stopped for luncheon before Lady Farris sat up straighter and knocked her hand against the vehicle’s roof.
“Wiggins! Stop the carriage!”
Duncan came to full alert while the coach slowed. “What is it?”
Her face full of excitement, she pointed out the window. “There. I think it’s a Roman ruin.”
He peered out to see a steep, rocky hill with what appeared to be the remains of stone structures atop it. The hill itself was dotted with scrub and silver birch, but for the most part it was abundant with stones and earth. From the road, it was just possible to see a few ancient walls and the remainder of a column.
He exhaled, tension seeping from him. Merely an old building, and nothing threatening.
“Wiggins, take us to the base of the hill.” The smile that wreathed Lady Farris’s face would illuminate the darkest corner of any shadowed day. To Duncan, she said brightly, “It looks marvelous. I have to see it.”
“This is your journey, ma’am. I’m merely here to make certain it’s a peaceful one. Though, I’m slightly disappointed that I haven’t been able to prove my manly vigor by fending off a pack of ravenous wolves.”
She laughed, and he could fall endlessly into that rich, throaty sound. It was the sort of tone he could hear again and again and never tire of. Unlike some of the people he’d met in society, her laughter was genuine, containing within it true pleasure, as though her surroundings continued to surprise and delight her.
“We shall see what we can do about encountering some vicious animals,” she said, “though wehavemetyour friends, and perhaps the three of you qualify as some kind of pack of beasts.”
“Would you believe that we’re far better behaved now than we used to be? The stories I could tell you.”
She pressed her hands together. “I will do literally anything to hear about your wilder days.”
“A tempting offer. Quite tempting.”
The atmosphere in the carriage grew suddenly taut and warm. A picture formed in his mind of her head tipped back as she moaned her pleasure. And he was the one to make her moan.
God help me.
The vehicle slowed and then stopped. “This is as close as we can get, my lady,” Wiggins announced.
Duncan opened the door before Green could dismount and provide the same service. He stepped down and offered his hand. “Ma’am.”
The moment before her hand slid into his seemed to stretch on and on as he held himself in eager anticipation of her touch. When her fingers did slide against his palm, his entire body roused.
She gave a small shiver, and he knew she felt it, too.
He could not forget last night or banish the image of her pleasuring herself—using the selfsame hand that now rested in his palm. Breathing suddenly became difficult as he fought to rein in his arousal.
