Page 14 of To My Scot, With Love
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Lydia
Lydiastrolledalongthedirt path skirting the stables, keeping a watchful eye on her unruly brood as they scampered ahead of her. Thank the heavens above for the unseasonably warm weather they’d been having of late. Much like their father, these children had a seemingly endless supply of energy. Confinement did not a happy Jennings make.
Her gaze caught on a tall, broad figure walking a black mare. An aching wave of yearning floated over her, settling heavily in her belly.
“Oh, it’s Mr. Campbell with Jasmine!” Felicity exclaimed. “Can we go say hullo, Mama?”
“Of course, dearest.”
“Her belly is getting quite large,” Felix said, studying the mare. “I wonder if we’ll be able to feel the foal moving yet.”
“Race you!” And Felicity took off, amber plait flying behind her, skirts whipping, little booted feet a mere blur.
“No fair!” Fitzwilliam cried, launching after her. And promptly tripped, tumbling headlong to the ground.
“She always does that,” Felix grumbled as he jogged to Fitzwilliam, quickly hoisted his brother up, and took off after his sister.
Felix nearly caught up with her before she reached Mr. Campbell, an advantage of being eleven to her four and already showing signs of inheriting his father’s height. Fitzwilliam was growing quite tall as well, though he was only five, and with his affinity for clumsiness…it was honestly fortunate he made it to the group without falling again.
Lydia reached the small group gathered around the mare. Mr. Campbell stood with his large hand on Jasmine’s lower belly and indicated to Felicity to place her hand next to his.
Her eyes popped wide. “Oh! It kicked!”
“I want to feel!” Fitzwilliam squeezed his way next to Felicity, and Lydia bit back a smile.
“Easy there, lad,” Mr. Campbell said with a rumbling laugh. “There’s plenty of belly here for ye both.”
Felix lingered at the mare’s head, gently stroking her nose. Lydia stepped up next to him.
“Wow,” Fitzwilliam’s small voice rang out, brimming in awe. “I swear I just felt a hoof.”
“Aye, Jasmine’s been through this a few times afore,” Mr. Campbell explained. “The muscles of her belly are stretched looser than a younger mare’s. At this stage, it’s no’ surprising we can feel the foal so clearly.”
Lydia loved how he was always imparting education and wisdom to the children. She wanted them well-rounded, to learn about all parts of life. There were many valuable lessons one could learn in taking care of animals. Empathy. Responsibility. Patience.
She leaned closer to her eldest son. “It is gallant of you to allow your younger siblings the first turn at feeling the foal’s movements,” she murmured.
His high cheekbones, nearly identical to her own, flushed a faint shade of pink. “I am their big brother. It is my responsibility to ensure they are happy. I’ve had more years to enjoy things like this than they have.”
She playfully nudged his shoulder—goodness, it was nearly the same height as hers now—and shot him a smile. “You’re going to make a wonderful Earl one day, Felix. Much like your father, you’ve a gift for looking after those around you. Always wanting the best for them.”
The pink dotting his cheeks deepened, but there was pride shining in his warm amber eyes when he met her gaze.
“My lady.” A deep baritone came from her side.
Lydia startled, and it was her turn to have a blush heat her cheeks. Not the usual faint blush the man before her inspired in her. But coal-hot and what she was sure was strawberry-red. Because of her embarrassing expedition last night.
She forced her lips into a smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Campbell. Jasmine is doing well, I trust?”
His gaze tracked over her face before meeting her eyes. “Aye, fit as a fiddle. No need to worry over your precious mare. I’m just walking her out, allowing her to stretch her legs a bit. Take advantage of the warm weather. As are your bairns, I see.”
She glanced up. Felicity and Fitzwilliam were off a ways in the distance, appearing to be participating in some sort of jumping contest.
“Let us hope we don’t have a repeat of the mud incident of 1794.” Mr. Campbell’s rumbling chuckle floated around her, like joy landing on her skin.
“Dear heavens, I hope not.” Laughter shook her words slightly, and she peeked at him. “Goodness, I don’t think she was even yet three? Already wanting to best her brothers.”
