Down the Rabbit Hole

Beth paced the length of her room and back before pausing at the balcony to see Colin pacing the garden like a caged animal. Even from so great a distance it was clear that he was as tormented as she.

What in the world had she been thinking? How could she expect to conduct business, for heaven’s sake, to negotiate terms of a sale with a man after allowing him to kiss her like that?

Allow? That was too mild a word. She’d been a full participant in that kiss. And it shamed her to realize that if he hadn’t been the one to call a halt to it, she would still be in his arms, taking pleasure in the amazing feelings his touch aroused in her.

Though it was completely out of character for her, she’d welcomed the unexpected rush of passion. Had embraced it. And even now, just thinking about his kiss had her trembling like one of the silly, lovesick heroines in the novels she’d kept hidden from her aunt in her teens.

She turned away from the balcony when the door to her room was opened and old Maura stepped in, her arms filled with fresh clothing.

“If yer to ride to the hunt, m’lady, ye’ll need proper clothes.” She set her burden down in the middle of the bed and began to sort through them. “We keep a store of the lady Catherine’s clothes.”

“Lady Catherine?”

“The laird’s mother. Though she’s been gone these many years, the old Laird Collier kept her gowns in a small room abovestairs. Since she was near your size, I thought they would do, though I’m sure Edwina will sulk.”

“How kind of you, Maura. Who is Edwina?”

“Why, the laird’s stepsister. She and Ian are the product of the old laird’s second wife and her first husband. Laird Collier Gordon wed her after Lady Catherine died.” Under her breath she muttered, “May God rest her dear soul.”

“You cared for her.”

“The lady Catherine? Aye. She was loved by all who knew her, my lady.”

“And Laird Collier and his second wife?”

“Both gone to the grave now. Our affection for the old laird never wavered, though we all questioned his wisdom. He lies buried beside the chapel, next to Lady Catherine.” Her smile turned to a frown. Her voice lowered with a trace of scorn. “His second wife was taken by her children to be laid to rest with those of her clan.”

“Do Ian and Edwina live here?”

The old woman shook her head. “They live among their mother’s people. She first wed a wealthy laird from the clan Campbell . . .” She stopped, her eyes wide as she realized what she’d revealed. “Begging your pardon, my lady. Ye probably know of yer kinswoman? The lady Darda Campbell.”

“Darda . . . ?” Beth turned away to hide her shock. Her aunt’s name was uncommon enough that she’d never before heard it. And now, to hear it in this place seemed unimaginable.

“Was she as beloved as the Lady Catherine?”

The old woman’s voice was icy. “She was undeserving. All she loved, all she coveted, was the old laird’s gold and lands. There now, my lady. I’ve spoken ill of your kinswoman, and may my Maker smote me for it.”

Beth managed a smile. “You’re free to say whatever you wish. My clan is far from here, Maura. In a land across the sea.”

“Across the sea? ’Tis more than the mind can imagine.” The old woman shivered at the thought of it and shook her head in amazement before holding up a gorgeous long skirt and fitted jacket in lush green velvet. “This will keep ye warm as ye join the hunt.” She began helping Beth out of her wool gown and into the riding clothes.

When Beth was dressed, Maura held up a jaunty green hat adorned with a veil and a jewel-toned peacock feather. Placing it just so on Beth’s head, the old woman stood back to admire her handiwork. “There now, m’lady. Take these.” She offered a pair of softest kid gloves. “The laird instructed me to tell ye yer groom will be waiting at the stables with your mount. Mistress MacKay is preparing a picnic luncheon to be served in the meadow.”

“Will the other women be joining the hunt?”

Maura shook her head. “They care not for it. But they’ll attend the meal in the meadow.”

When Beth stepped from her room, Jamie stood waiting, and walked beside her down the stairs and across a sloping lawn to the stables.

It was clear to Beth that, even though she was being treated as a guest, she was not to be trusted. Colin Gordon wanted her where he could keep an eye on her. Which was no doubt the reason he’d invited her to join the hunt. And when he wasn’t around, that duty would fall to this lad.

Colin was astride a spirited black stallion. He wore a woolen cape tossed rakishly over one shoulder. When he saw Beth striding toward him, his gaze fixed on her with such intensity, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

She paused beside a stable lad holding the reins of a horse and looked up at Colin. “I hope you don’t mind that Maura offered me the use of your mother’s things?”

“Not at all.” He was out of the saddle and striding toward her. “I’d instructed her to use whatever suited you.”

“Thank you. That was very generous.”

“It was necessary. You could hardly sit a horse in a day gown.”