Page 75 of Gambling with the Earl
Rossfarne Castle shimmered on the horizon, taunting him with all that could have been. Viewed from this distance, Guy was taken aback by its romantic beauty. The castle had been filled with darkness, yet it could be spectacular. For a brief time, while he held Kitty in his arms, he had entertained thoughts of banishing the gloom and making it a comfortable home, but it had been within his power to do so sooner.
Instead, when he first arrived in Rossfarne, he’d followed in the footsteps of his ancestors, clinging to the shadows andhiding behind the notoriety of his family name. On that cursed night in the tavern, he’d done nothing to shake the other men’s assumption that he was as great a villain as his uncle.
Nay, he’d gone so far as to encourage it.
His family coat of arms had provided a foil for his temporary vulnerability.
Guy clenched his hand into a tight fist. If he had chosen a different approach, so much could have been different. But he could only deal with what was, not what could have been. He had regained his fitness and the future was his for the taking. This brief time in Rossfarne would soon be far behind him, but was that what he wanted?
Could he imagine living the rest of his life without Kitty? That was the crux of it. The question he hadn’t allowed himself to ask. Because if she was guilty of distrust, of hiding behind a facade, so too was he.
The sun came out from behind a cloud, enveloping him in light and warmth. He tilted his face towards it and closed his eyes.
What would happen if he lowered his guard?
*
They rowed backto the mainland in silence. The boatman was likely irked by her sudden return, but Kitty had no care for his opinion. The despair that had washed over her at the gatehouse had been replaced by a desperate, burning conviction.
She had to find Guy. She would do whatever it took.
Where once she had been determined to fight for her sister’s future, now she would go into battle for her own. She may appear foolish, but what of it? Better a fool than a deceitful thief. Better to try and fail than spend the rest of her life immersed in regret for what might have been.
She thanked the boatman and pressed one of her hard-earned coins into his hand, the flash of which appeased him. He tugged at his forelock and wished her a pleasant afternoon. She turned her face towards the village and pondered her next move.
She could go home and change out of this cumbersome dress, but to do so would waste what little time she had left to her. The sun was already dipping in the sky. Within hours, it would be dark.
She needed a horse, but they had none at Shoreston. The carriage had gone soon after Mother died. She looked around impatiently. Was her only option the earl’s own stable yard? He kept a pair of horses on the mainland. It was an option, but the prospect of bribing another of the earl’s servants made her toes curl. As if in answer to a prayer, she heard the faint clopping of horse’s hooves on the cliff road and with no thought to her elegant gown, Kitty began to run.
The slight young man with soft brown curls was open-mouthed in surprise to be accosted by a red-faced woman in a dress more suited to a ballroom than a cliff top.
“May I assist you, miss?” he asked, holding out an arm to steady her as she bounded around the corner towards him.
Kitty wheezed in her restrictive bodice. “Your horse,” she spluttered, gesturing to the well-fed chestnut brown cob standing behind him. “I must borrow him.”
“My horse?” He frowned. His face was finely drawn, she noticed. And there was something familiar about his hazel eyes.
“Don’t worry. I have coin. I can pay you for your trouble.” Kitty fished for her coin purse.
“It is no trouble.” The boy stepped forwards to look her fully in the face. “Katherine Alden?”
Only hours earlier she would have flushed with shame at being recognised, but now she merely nodded.
A huge smile broke across his face. “Richard Erkine.” He held out his hand. “It has been many years since we last met, but we are soon to be related.”
She took his hand automatically, her mind racing to keep up. Richard Erkine. The neighbour so recently betrothed to her sister.
“It is good to see you again.” He gave her a short bow.
It had been so long since anyone paid such an act of respect to Kitty that she simply stood and stared, before recovering her wits and dipping her head.
“The pleasure is mine, sir.”
“Your sister speaks highly of you.”
“And of you.” Her eyes darted back to the horse. Richard Erkine appeared to have grown into a splendid young man, but she had no time for polite conversation.
He seemed to read her mind. “You are welcome to my horse,” he paused. “Unless, of course, you would prefer to take my family’s trap? Have you a long journey ahead of you?”
