Page 3 of A Scottish Lord for Christmas
Rowena’s heart tripped and she had to collect herself before she panicked. Her sister Milly had just gotten engaged early this morning, against her will, because a fortune hunter had snuck into her room the previous night and been caught by their mother. Nothing beyond that had happened, but it had been enough to scandalize them into marriage. Was being alone with Forres like this enough for a scandal?
“The party has been a pleasant distraction,” Forres admitted.
She nodded. “Yes.” She swallowed. Why was she so nervous? Normally she loved conversation and could talk about almost anything. Being alone with him left her tongue-tied and tingling as he drew near.
He held out the crook of his arm in silent invitation. The gesture was gentlemanly, but also natural and masculine.
The heat of a blush worked its way to her cheeks and Rowena didn’t know what to do.
“Oh, come now, Miss Rowena, ’tis only my arm. I won’t bite.” He grinned at her and chomped his white teeth together in a mocking way.
A giggle escaped her, startling them both. Then he laughed, too, but there was a surprise in his expression as though he was astounded at his own amusement. The sound of his laugh was rich and warm and oddly comforting, given that he was a complete stranger. After only a brief hesitation, she placed her arm in his. Little tingles shot up her skin at the point of their connection.
“Allow me to escort you back to the house.” Forres nodded toward the massive tan stone edifice of Hampton House. It reminded her so much of Pepperwirth Vale, her family estate only four miles away. Two ancient families, the Grahams and the Pepperwirths, had been neighbors for nearly two hundred years.
She and Forres walked in silence for a few steps before Forres spoke.
“I wish to thank you again for rescuing my daughter. Blair is…” He paused, and Rowena peeked up at him, noticing a slight ruddiness to his cheeks. “Blair is very precious to me. I’m afraid I’m overly protective of her.”
“I understand, my lord. I was informed you’d lost your wife a year ago, my condolences. It must be hard for any parent to raise a child alone.”
Forres halted and turned to face her, his eyes slightly wide in surprise. “Yes…yes, it is hard.” He recovered himself. “Blair is a wee bit wild, as I was when I was a bairn.”
Rowena couldn’t resist smiling. “You were once a wee child?” Her own childhood had been full of adventures, as much as a well-bred English young lady could have had in the country, but she imagined Forres had a much more colorful life.
“Oh, aye…” His Scottish accent thickened to a richer brogue as he spoke. “I was always off in the woods or on a horse. My nurse couldn’t keep me in a clean set of trousers to save my life.” His solemn gray eyes held a hint of warmth as he led her through the maze of gardens.
“And little Blair is like you.” Rowena laughed in delight. The idea of the darling child running among the Scottish heather, wild and free, was a wonderful thought.
Forres nodded. “Yes, but she could use a wee bit of taming.”
“Taming?” Rowena asked, tempted to smile. “All children need to be able to run free sometimes. I was often getting into scrapes when I was younger.”
Forres gazed at her. “Now, that I cannot imagine! A proper young lady like you?” His expression was serious but there was a hint of gentle mocking in his tone. He was teasing her and she couldn’t help but grin at him, temporarily forgetting how nervous he made her.
“Oh yes, I was a bit of a tree climber and I was always bringing home tadpoles, baby birds, and all other manner of fauna. I once nursed a baby deer back to health after its mother was killed one spring.” She’d always loved taking care of wounded creatures great or small, and her parents had been thankfully indulgent of her desire to play the healer.
He covered her hand with his where it rested on his arm. “I was much the same. Always bringing home creatures. I rescued a pine marten one winter, raising the kit in my bedchamber beneath my parents’ noses. It was a fine beast, a smart creature. He lived for nine years as a devoted pet, much to my mother’s dismay.”
“It must have been wonderful to grow up in a castle in Scotland as a child.” Rowena sighed dreamily, picturing the earl as a boy scampering about the woods.
“It was, but southern England here is just as beautiful. You live on the neighboring estate, don’t you?”
“Yes, Pepperwirth Vale. It is a lovely house and all my memories there are happy ones.” She was beginning to see just how fortunate she had been to grow up so loved and cherished and free of tragedy.
Before they could speak further, they’d reached the doors to the veranda at the back of Hampton House, and Rowena’s mother was rushing toward her. Her mother, usually one to be immaculately dressed, was now wearing a wrinkled gown, her hair a bit frazzled. She must have been up all night worrying about Milly’s situation.
“Rowena! Dear, you must come at once, your sister…” Her mother halted at the sight of Lord Forres standing beside Rowena, their arms still linked.
“Lord Forres.” Lady Pepperwirth recovered, her strained features smoothing into a beautiful mask of pleasantry.
“Good morning, Lady Pepperwirth.” Forres bowed.
“Er…yes, good morning, my lord. I’m so sorry for disrupting your walk with my daughter.” Her gaze darted between them.
Forres seemed to sense her unease, and ever the gentleman, he took control of the situation.
“Shall I go speak with the staff regarding luncheon?”
