Page 36 of A Rogue in Twilight
“TheSidhe,” she whispered. “The Fey. They were so near, may still be about.”
He stared at her. “Has the storm got to you, or did the whisky addle your brain?”
“But you must have seen them. They rode past us. The Seelie Court. They tried to lure us into going with them.”
“We had best get warm and dry.” He lifted the plaid, draped it over her shoulders, turned her toward the house. “On such a night as this, it is easy to imagine all manner of things.”
The cane lay on the grass and she stooped to grab it. “James, what did you see?”
“Rain and mist. And you, my girl. The fog was—strange. I heard—bells. Where are the dogs?” He looked around. “It’s coming down hard again. Come away, Elspeth.”
She handed him his cane, and he leaned on it as they went toward the house. The pain in her ankle had returned. Shewondered if James’s limp had improved when the fairy riders came near, as hers did.
The dogs met them on the way, circling and barking, and they all headed into the house through the kitchen door, shaking off the rain. Elspeth laughed as the dogs bounded around them.
James removed the borrowed coat and hung it on a hook. He brushed the rain from his hair and his shoulders. His thick curls were wet, his cheeks stained uneven pink in the chill. He looked wildly handsome, Elspeth thought, liking the bit of natural disarray in this cautious and regulated man.
“What a storm,” he said, taking the wet plaid from her and hung it on another hook. A red plaid, thick and dry, hung near it, and he wrapped that around her shoulders. “The trees were blowing and bending so much that I should look for damage in daylight. The horses were fine, thankfully, when I looked in on them.”
“You saw only the storm?” She kept very still.
He touched her cheek. “I saw a lovely woman out there,” he murmured. “And I did not act the gentleman. Elspeth—”
“We were in their thrall.”
“I was in your thrall.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Forgive me.”
“Forgive me, do—but please tell me if you saw them!”
He frowned. “I hope we were not seen out there.”
“The fairy riding,” she said. “They were out there tonight.”
He quirked his brows and said nothing, pausing to stamp his muddy boots on the old carpet by the door.
He must think her a fool. She wondered again what had happened out there. Had it been a vision, or something real? For a moment she burned with shame at the way she had thrown herself at him. She turned for the stairs, limping. “I must go.”
“Elspeth, what is wrong?”
She looked back. “If I tell you, you will call me seven kinds of lunatic. So I will not trouble you with talk of fairies. But I thank you kindly for the compromise. It was lovely, better than I could have imagined. It will do nicely.”
“Compromise,” he repeated. “Blast it, come back. Talk to me!”
“Wait,” James said,but she was gone, footsteps rapid in the corridor, on the stairs. He grabbed his cane and went after her, the dogs eager in his wake. Pausing, he took the little black terrier by the collar before it could race ahead and trip the girl up, for her gait, though quick, was as uneven as his just now.
“Miss MacArthur! Elspeth!” he called. “Wait!”
He caught up with her in the main hallway outside the library and study. She turned when he called again, and nearly missed her footing, setting a hand on the wall.
“Careful. Tell me what the trouble is,” he said.
She tipped her head, folded her arms. “Truly you saw nothing out there?”
“Rain and fog, and two foolish people kissing in a lightning storm.”
“We were nearly stolen away by the fairies. We were saved by those kisses.”
She was a puzzle, turning him this way and that, and he was—enchanted, intrigued. Falling in love, it came to him then. But he regretted his actions outside and was determined to compensate for them. “The wind was fierce. It nearly lifted you away. And a sort of madness came over me.”
