Chapter Eight
Regina waited for several minutes, but Dalton never arrived at the house. When she returned to the front door, she saw him walking in the opposite direction. Where was he going? Though she knew she ought to wait, she decided to follow him instead.
The groom saddled a horse for her and she rode in the direction she had seen Dalton walking. There, a silvery-blue loch stretched across the meadow. She found him swimming with a furious pace, his arms churning through the water. And he was naked.
You need to leave, her conscience warned.
But she could not help being interested by the sight of his strong body cutting through the water. He was angry, and it was her fault.
Again, her inner voice cautioned her to go away. But something made her come closer instead.
Regina dismounted and walked towards the edge of the water, letting her horse graze. Dalton could not see her yet, but she chose a spot upon an outcropping of limestone. She climbed atop the rock and tucked her skirts around her while she watched him swim.
You shouldn’t be here, her brain reminded her. He wants to be alone.
But a part of her didn’t really care. Instead, she watched him, marvelling at his strength. He looked like a medieval Highlander of old, a warrior who would defend her against all enemies. And although he could easily subdue her, she had never been afraid of Dalton.
Despite her claim that they barely knew each other, it wasn’t entirely true. She knew that she was safe with him, more than any other man. And something about that knowledge emboldened her.
At last, her husband caught sight of her, and he slowed his pace. He stopped swimming and stood in the water staring at her. From here, she could see his bare chest. Water gleamed upon his skin, and she followed a rivulet trickling down his ribs to his waist. Dalton pushed his wet hair back, and his expression hardened. ‘Was there something you were wanting, Regina?’
She didn’t know. Right now, she was unable to tear her gaze away from him. Earlier today, she had seen him as a man with great compassion. But now, she could not deny that she was attracted to him. His broad shoulders were wet, his skin warmed by the sun.
And when he took another step forward, more of his body was revealed to her. She saw the ridges of his abdomen and the edge of his hips.
‘Unless you’re wanting to see all of me, you had best turn away, lass.’ The words were a warning, she knew, and yet Regina wanted to give in to her curiosity. She had never seen a naked man before. Much less one she was almost married to.
She locked away all the fears of her past, dwelling only on the man in front of her. Her cheeks burned with shyness, but still, she did not close her eyes or turn away. She wanted to overcome her fears, and this was her opportunity.
Dalton didn’t seem to care, and he walked slowly from the water, revealing his full naked body. The heat in her cheeks grew hotter, but she watched him. Never had she imagined what he would look like, but instead of frightening her, she found him fascinating. It made her wonder if she’d been wrong about her fears. With Dalton, she was starting to feel a physical attraction she had never expected.
Without apology, he reached down and picked up the length of tartan. He wrapped it around his waist and drew closer to her. ‘Did you enjoy the view?’
She hardly knew how to answer that. Her mouth had gone dry, but she nodded. ‘Yes, I did.’
With that, a slow smile slid across his face. ‘Good.’ Then he picked up the remainder of his clothes and started walking away.
It startled her that Dalton had left her alone. She had half-expected him to kiss her or make a demand of some kind. Instead, she felt fully aware of his presence.
Quickly, she scrambled down from the large rock, and retrieved her horse, holding the reins. By now, Dalton had pulled his shirt over his chest, but he still held the length of tartan wrapped around his waist.
‘Are you angry with me for watching you?’ she asked, after she’d caught up to him.
‘No,’ he answered. ‘But you’re making it difficult for me to leave you untouched.’
Regina walked her horse alongside him, feeling the rise of guilt. He was right, that she was trespassing into a forbidden realm. ‘I’m sorry.’
He moved closer and took the reins from her. ‘Are you? Or are you starting to wonder what it would be like between us?’
His presence overshadowed her, though he didn’t touch her at all. It was his voice that had grown seductive, making her skin tighten with interest. ‘Were you wanting to touch me?’ he murmured. ‘Do you want that power, to know how I would respond to your hands upon my skin?’
Her breath seized up in her lungs, and his voice slid over her in an invisible caress. She was aching in secret places, wanting him to kiss her.
‘Do you want me naked in your bed?’ he said softly, moving his mouth to her ear. His warm breath gave her goose bumps, and her mind could not push the image away. She could envision him lying upon the bed, his green eyes burning into hers. And if she touched him, she wondered how it would feel.
His mouth brushed against her cheek in an invitation. ‘All you have to do is open the door between our rooms, Regina. You can have whatever you want from me.’
He gave back the reins to her horse and strode away. She was deeply shaken, uncertain of the feelings coursing through her. It was desire and need. God help her, he had awakened a temptation she’d never imagined. Her heart was racing at the thought of putting her hands upon him or kissing him.
She wanted that. When had he transformed her fear into need? She could hardly bear it, and as he ascended the stairs, she gave the horse to a groom and hurried to catch up with him. Instead of waiting on her, he continued up the stairs. ‘Will I see you later, Dalton?’
‘Perhaps.’ From his demeanour, he didn’t seem to care. ‘Do as you please, Regina. The house is yours.’
But after the door closed behind him, she felt a sense of restlessness. The truth was, she had enjoyed his company. And now she was beginning to realise that there was more to Dalton than she had known. There was a wildness to this man, an untamed Highlander who was more at home in his beloved Scotland then he had ever been in London. It was difficult to reconcile the two sides of the man. And strangely, she found that she was far more intrigued by the Highlander than the gentleman.
Regina desperately needed a distraction right now, or else she might follow him up the stairs. Instead, she decided to spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the estate. She walked through the drawing room and the earl’s library, which was full of books. In the dining room, a large table seated twelve, and upon the walls, she saw various oil portraits. One was of the earl and his countess. Another painting was of his brother Brandon. She turned to look, but there was no portrait of Dalton. Strange. Yet, on one wall, there was a bare spot...as if a portrait had been removed.
After she had finished exploring the rooms on the main level, she decided to venture upstairs. Temptation warred within her as she imagined her husband in his rooms, waiting for her.
But she wasn’t ready for that yet. She pushed back her feelings and crossed the hallway beyond their bedrooms. At the far end of the hall, she spied a room apart from the others. She knocked first, and then opened it. The room held a faint aroma of sandalwood. In one corner, a portrait was covered with a cloth. She lifted it gently and saw that it was Brandon again. This must have been his old room.
The bed curtains hung open, and the coverings were dusty, as if they had remained untouched over the years. Inside the wardrobe, she found neatly hung clothes. On the bottom of the wardrobe was a crumpled handkerchief. It was embroidered—and from the looks of it, she guessed it had belonged to the countess.
Strange to see the pieces of a man’s life left behind. Clearly Dalton’s family had tried to keep the memory of their eldest son alive. But what about her husband’s needs? She felt a ri
se of protective instincts. Where was his portrait? Did they even care about him?
She was about to leave when a stack of letters on the desk caught her attention. The first was addressed to Dalton. Regina knew it wasn’t right, but she couldn’t stop herself from reaching for it.
Dear Brother,
I hope this letter finds you well. I am trapped in London while Father insists that I learn everything about being an earl.
I would much rather climb trees or go fishing with you. I envy the freedom you have. I would trade everything I have if I could be invisible like you.
Regina stopped reading, uncertain of what Brandon had meant by that. Dalton could never be invisible. He was bold and daring, a man filled with zest for life. Everything she wasn’t.
She put the letter down, and suddenly, she realised that she didn’t want to be that woman any more. She didn’t want to be a wallflower, letting life pass her by because she was afraid. Nor did she want a loveless marriage with a man she cared about. He hadn’t touched her, and he’d done everything she’d asked of him, giving her a marriage in name only.
But was that what she wanted now? Earlier, he had issued an invitation, giving her permission to open the door between their walls. What if she dared to reach for a very different sort of marriage?
Regina set down the letter, wondering how to even begin. All she knew was that she couldn’t continue living this way. It was time to change.
* * *
Dalton was startled to hear a knock upon his bedroom door. Right now, he was feeling restless and frustrated. But before he could speak, the doorknob turned slightly. ‘Dalton?’ came Regina’s voice. ‘May I come in?’
For a moment, he was struck speechless. He’d never imagined she would actually visit him, though he had invited her to do so. Before he could say anything, she opened the door a little wider, and he saw that she was carrying the chess board. ‘I thought we could play a game.’
‘If you want,’ he answered. He wasn’t entirely in the mood to play chess just now, but she opened the door and came inside.
There was something different about her. He couldn’t say exactly what it was, but she was already setting up the game pieces on a side table. ‘White or black?’ she asked him.
‘Black,’ he answered. Her hair, he decided. That’s what was different. Instead of being pinned into a neat chignon, it was pulled back from her face and hanging freely around her shoulders.
‘I have a confession to make,’ she said, after she made her first move.
‘And what is that?’
‘I don’t wish to be...that is...’ She struggled for a moment, trying to choose the right words.
Married to me, he almost said, but didn’t. Instead, he claimed her pawn and waited.
‘I’ve lived my life obeying the rules. Doing what everyone wanted of me. And I realised today, that it’s no life at all.’ Her face was flushed as she contemplated her next move.
He wasn’t entirely certain where she was going with this. Then she continued to speak, adding, ‘I want to learn to break the rules.’
His hand paused upon his knight. ‘I don’t understand.’ What rules was she talking about?
‘I’ve been a good girl. A perfect lady, really. And now I want to change.’
‘You want to be a bad girl?’ In spite of himself, his mouth twitched with humour.
‘Well, not exactly. It’s just that, I would like to be more daring. Perhaps I should climb a tree or learn to swim.’ She lowered her voice and added, ‘Or I could wear trousers.’
Now he did smile. ‘God forbid that you should wear trousers.’ But he envisioned her body wearing form-fitting clothes, and he could imagine the curve of her backside straining at the seams.
Definitely trousers.
‘I want to experience freedom,’ she said softly. ‘And I thought you could help me.’
He still wasn’t entirely certain what she was wanting. But the idea was intriguing. The Laird of Locharr had learned how to be a gentleman from his governess, Miss Goodson. And now, it seemed that Regina wanted lessons on how not to be a lady.
He needed to clarify this. ‘So you’re wanting me to give you lessons on how to be more daring?’
‘Yes. That’s it, exactly. Will you help me?’
The idea held merit, but he still didn’t believe her. ‘Why would you want to change who you are, Regina?’
She hesitated and gave the chess board her full attention. ‘Perhaps I want to change back into the girl I used to be. I don’t like the person I am now.’
Her answer sobered him, for he didn’t understand why. But he pressed further. ‘Who do you want to be?’
‘A woman of courage,’ she answered. ‘Someone brave.’
And then he understood. She was trying to overcome her fear, and he did want to help. Though she had never revealed what had happened to her, he would do everything in his power to make her feel safe again.
‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘But if I help you, there is something I want in return.’
‘I know what you are going to say—’ she began, but he cut her off.
‘No. You don’t.’ He leaned forward and moved his knight. ‘I want you not to be afraid of me.’ He wanted to court her openly, to spend his days with her and find ways to make her smile again.
Regina’s expression turned thoughtful. ‘I’m not afraid of you, Dalton. I’m afraid of myself.’ She made another move and met his gaze. There was fear lingering through her words, though she tried not to show it. ‘I have a confession to make. I saw your brother’s room and I read one of his letters.’
He felt on edge, as if she had trespassed into other memories. Guilt flushed her face, but she continued. ‘Why did your brother say that he wished he was invisible, like you? You are one of the boldest men I’ve ever met. You could never be invisible.’
Dalton didn’t really know what to say, for he didn’t understand it himself. He captured another pawn, wondering how to explain it. ‘I was invisible to my family. They never liked my behaviour, and they found it best to ignore me. When I was a boy, I wanted attention, even if it meant being punished. I got into many scrapes, and sometimes I dragged Brandon into them with me.’ He sobered at the memory. Though he knew his brother’s death had resulted from illness, Dalton blamed himself. If one of them had to die, it should have been him.
‘After my brother died, I tried to be more like Brandon,’ he admitted. ‘I tried to be the man my father wanted, but I was never enough. A few years later, I stopped trying to please them, and I just lived my life the way I wanted to.’ It was all he could do, for he had come to accept that he would always be the outsider in his own family.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. She took one of his pawns with her own, and her eyes held sympathy. ‘Even if they don’t see the man you are, I do.’
Her words warmed him, but he couldn’t release the guilt. ‘It’s my fault he died, Regina. I was the reason he got sick.’
She shook her head. ‘People get sick all the time, Dalton.’
‘We went to visit Gabriel, and he had come down with scarlet fever. A few days later, Brandon and I were ill. I recovered; he didn’t.’
She was staring at him, her face filled with sorrow. ‘It’s still not your fault.’
He stood from the chess board, unable to believe it. ‘They would have been happier if Brandon had lived.’ There was no denying that fact.
Then she startled him by reaching for his hand. Slowly, she drew it to her cheek, never taking her eyes from him. Her skin was cool and pale, but she held his hand to her face. ‘Will you help me, Dalton?’
Her unexpected touch soothed him in ways words could not. ‘With what?’
She met his gaze and admitted, ‘I want to enjoy life more. To live and not be afraid. Will you teach me?’
Chapter Nine
Regina awakened at dawn and chose a blue riding habit from Lady Brevershire’s belongings. She had decided to take another step towards ridding herself of the ever-present fear. It was time to go out riding alone and face that invisible monster.
Her maid, Nell, had arrived from London late yesterday evening, and the young girl helped her to dress. The riding habit was loose-fitting, but Regina added a belt to secure it. The thought of an early morning ride was invigorating. Today, she would begin her transformation. No longer would she be a wallflower, but instead, she intended to become a rebel.
‘Would you like me to pin up your hair, my lady?’ Nell asked.
Regina started to agree and then stared at herself in the looking glass. Was there any need to look like a lady? Who would care if she pinned up her hair or not? No one at all.
For the past few years, she had bound back her hair, as if it gave her a sense of control. She didn’t want the vivid red colour to attract attention from men, and she’d done what she could to hide it. But now, she decided to weave it into a looser braid.
‘No, I’ll take care of it.’
Nell offered to help, but Regina did it herself and donned her hat. For a moment, she glanced at the adjoining door that led to Dalton’s room.
A true rebel would go and awaken him. Perhaps invite him to join her. But it would be unwise to awaken a sleeping man. He might pull her into the bed with him. Her skin warmed at the thought of being beside him, his body close to hers. A ripple of interest flooded through her, and she could hardly believe she was imagining it. When had she begun to desire Dalton?
Perhaps it was because he had never forced her. Even their false marriage had been an invitation to escape, not an abduction. Even the few kisses they had shared had filled her with yearning.
Her mind was reeling at the knowledge that she was starting to consider the idea of truly marrying him. And that meant sharing his bed.
She closed her eyes, pushing the thought away. No, it was far too soon for that.
The Highlander and the Wallflower Page 13