Page 66 of Her Beautiful Bastard
So, here he was, setting out from the inn in Norfolk, where he had left Henry in the care of Mrs. Beecham. It was his intention to call upon Lydia, meet her family, and perhaps find some way to assure them that his intentions were honorable ones. He could not remain in Norfolk long, matters at Buckton requiring his return. However, it was his hope that when he left, he would have Lydia with him. And once he got her back home, he was never letting her out of his sight again.
As he drew near the house, he was forced to pull up on his reins at the sight of a figure racing toward him across the grounds. Squinting against the bright afternoon sun, he made out a person in a white shirt and breeches, a pair of braces holding them up over her shoulders. Her hair hung over one shoulder in a messy golden braid, stray strands falling around her face.
A wide grin split his face as he dismounted, abandoning his horse to set off in her direction. Leaving the lane, he dashed across the soft grass blanketing the well-manicured land surrounding the manor, his eyes fixated upon the woman growing closer by the second.
A little laugh escaped him, and he opened his arms as she came flying at him, her body colliding with him, arms and legs wrapping around him so tightly, he could hardly tell where she ended and he began. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled, flooding his senses with the scent of open air and Lydia.
She was laughing, the sound so joyous, his heart swelled as she clung to him, kissing his face, his neck, his lips. He kissed her back, keeping a firm grasp on her as he turned and began walking back toward his horse, refusing to put her back on her feet.
“Are all men welcomed to Oakmoor this way?” he quipped.
Lydia giggled, gracing him with another kiss, this one on the tip of his nose. “Yes. It is why we get so many visitors.”
He scowled, giving her arse a little pinch through the indecent breeches. “Hmm. I do not know whether to be amused or jealous of all the men who have visited here in the past three months.”
“Oh, you ought to be curious,” she teased, her lips and tongue tickling his ear and sending a lightning strike of pure desire straight to his groin. “Don’t you want to know what the most handsome of Oakmoor’s visitors are treated to?”
He paused near his mount, which had remained docile, waiting for his return. This time, he gave her bottom a good slap before setting her on her feet.
“Behave yourself,” he scolded. “I wish to make a good impression on your brother, and I cannot do that if he catches me carrying you off into the woods so that I can mount you.”
Folding her hands behind her back, she rocked back and forth on her heels and gave him a coy smile. “I would rather it was the other way around.”
Sinclair’s mouth fell open, and he studied her again from head to toe, taking in the familiar as well as the changes that had come over her in their time apart. She looked like herself, only more beautiful and vibrant than he remembered. Her expression … he’d never seen her so happy, so free. The men’s clothing suited her more than any gown he’d ever seen her in, the single braid hanging over her shoulder giving her an air of girlish innocence that only made her more endearing. She was no girl, however. The curves presenting themselves through the snug breeches belonged to a woman … one he knew the taste and feel of.
This what she had meant, when she told him she’d begun to feel more like herself. This laughing girl standing before him, her eyes twinkling and her skin flushed from the mad dash across the lawn … she was perfect, and beautiful. Now, she would be his.
He gestured toward the horse. “There will be time enough for that later. For now, get on the horse.”
She gave him a sly glance as she passed him, but did his bidding, swinging herself up into the saddle and sliding forward to make room for him. He came up behind her, taking the reins again, which allowed him to keep her held between his arms. As they continued toward the house, she laid her head back against his shoulder with a sigh.
“I’ve missed you,” she murmured.
He kissed her temple. “And I’ve missed you. Henry has, as well. He wanted to come with me to see you, but I wanted him to stay behind at the inn with Mrs. Beecham until I had gotten this part out of the way.”
She laughed. “You might have done better to bring him. The fastest way to my mother’s heart is with a child … the younger and more adorable, the better.”
Sinclair chuckled. “I will remember that if she turns out to hate me after this first meeting.”
He wanted to tell her more … about all the things he’d been dreaming of doing to her during their time apart, how he intended to make up for being away from her for so long. However, they had drawn close to the house, and at the top of the front steps stood a veritable giant of a man.
Sinclair’s mouth fell open as he reined up his mount, staring up at the bloke built like the trunk of a tree. Even from this distance, Sinclair could see he stood at least a head taller than him, and he was quite long-legged himself. Hair the same shade of Lydia’s fell around his face while a pair of indiscernible eyes bored into him from a hard, implacable face.
“Christ above,” he murmured in Lydia’s ear. “Is that your brother?”
Lydia snorted. “Yes, but do not allow him to intimidate you. He isn’t nearly as fearsome as he looks.”
Based on the massive arms straining the seams of the man’s coat, Sinclair begged to differ. As he dismounted, then offered Lydia a hand down, he told himself that he could do this. He’d never had to work hard to impress Drucilla’s family, as he’d gained their approval as a friend of Milton’s first, eventually becoming a suitor to their daughter. This family knew only that he was Lydia’s employer who had just been widowed three months prior.
While he admired that Lydia had been honest with her family about him, he also dreaded their opinions on the matter. He did not need their approval to wed Lydia, but he wanted it. He would prefer not to estrange her from her family if he could help it.
So, as he took Lydia’s hand and allowed her to lead him up the front steps, leaving his horse in the care of a stable groom, he squared his shoulders and held his head high. He would need to establish himself from the start as the man Lydia would spend the rest of her life with. This brother of hers had had a hand in raising her, and Sinclair respected that. He would take things from here, and he needed Mr. Darling to see him as a serious suitor for his sister’s hand, not simply some rake who had duped her into an illicit affair.
Lydia grinned up at the giant once they reached the open front doors, flanked on either side by large, smooth, white pillars. “Michael, if you continue making that face, it will become stuck that way and you’ll scare all the tenants’ children.”
The man’s scowl deepened as he shot his sister a glare, though Sinclair immediately registered the clear affection between them.
“Amelia, Mama, and Hesper are in the rose drawing room with the children having tea,” Michael declared. “Go and join them. Mr. Clayton and I have matters to attend in my study, and will join you when we have finished.”
