by Monica Burns
“Thank you,” she said softly with an expression that emphasized the fear her son's reckless behavior had caused her. “If something had happened to William…”
Silence filled the space between them as her voice trailed to a halt. Ewan couldn’t ever remember feeling so awkward with a woman before. As he studied her face, her gaze flitted away from his. With an abrupt movement, she began to walk down the row of horse stalls, and he fell into step beside her.
“He’s an adventuresome lad. Quite fearless. A trait I think he inherited from his mother.” Ewan didn’t look at her, but out of the corner of his only eye, he saw her jerk her head toward him in surprise.
“I’m not sure whether that was an insult or a compliment.”
“If you had thought it an insult, I've no doubt you would have verbally flayed me without hesitation.” Ewan heard a small indignant gurgle of sound come from her, and he bit back a smile.
“I do not flay people verbally,” she snapped. Before he had a chance to challenge her, she blew out a puff of air that was a clear sign of exasperation. “Although, I suppose my words the other night might be considered by some to be…mildly vitriolic.”
“Mildly?” he said with a touch of umbrage mixed with amusement.
When she didn’t answer he turned his head to see a look of guilt and sorrow on her pale features. For reasons he didn't fully understand, he knew he'd triggered a painful memory in her. He didn't like the way it made him feel or the look on her face, and he quietly sought to ease her remorse.
“You did apologize.”
“Yes, but there are some words that can never be taken back. Words said in anger that can haunt you forever.”
From her reply, he knew she wasn’t referring to the harsh words she’d directed at him. A much deeper torment swept across her face. Her expression reflected a stark painful memory of another time when she’d spoken harshly to someone. An urge to comfort her slammed into him with the force of a blow to his chest.
“There are a great many things one can regret, but if your words were said to a loved one, I find it hard to believe you weren’t forgiven.”
“There wasn’t time for forgiveness.”
The soft reply created a painful ache in his chest as he suddenly wished he could take on the burden of her pain. He was accustomed to living with the emotion, it was obvious she wasn’t. She came to a halt in front of Morag’s stall, and he saw the mare was already saddled. With a gesture for her to stay where she was, he led the horse out of the stall. The horse dipped its head toward Louisa in a display of recognition. A small smile touched her lips at the gentle nudge, and she rubbed the horse’s jowl with affection.
“I see you’re well-acquainted with Morag.”
“Yes, she’s a sweet creature,” Louisa said with a nod. “She seems to enjoy our afternoon outings despite the chilly weather.”
“I believe Lachlan would become quite lazy if I didn’t exercise him every day. There are times when I think the animal is too pampered by McCallum and Finn.” His annoyance made her laugh, and he was relieved to see her sorrow had disappeared from her face.
“And you don’t pamper him?” There was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes that made him narrow his gaze at her.
“I do not.”
“Then what is this?”
In a quick move, she tugged on the green foliage attached to a carrot he had in his coat pocket. She dangled the carrot in the air. Frowning at her amusement, he managed to snatch the vegetable out of her hand with his mechanical one without dropping the carrot.
“The animal needs to eat.”
“Of course.”
As her soft laughter filled the air, Ewan scowled at her and turned away to head back to Lachlan’s stall, which he’d passed while walking Louisa to Morag. Her brother hadn’t mentioned it, but Ewan was certain the man had often found himself bedeviled by his sister’s teasing.
“Perhaps when Lachlan has had his carrot, his strength will be restored well enough to race Morag.” The laughter in her voice made him look over his shoulder. The challenge in her serene smile made him shake his head.
“Morag is no match for Lachlan.”
“Then allow us a head start.” She arched her eyebrows and eyed him with an impish expression. “That is if you’re not afraid of losing.”
“Losing?” Ewan snorted with a mixture of amusement and exasperation at her confident expression. “Very well. I’ve yet to saddle Lachlan. Even with that much of a head start, he will still be able to catch Morag without too much difficulty.”
“Bold words, my lord. Perhaps you would like to make a wager?”
Fully aware she was goading him into placing a bet, he ignored the warning in the back of his head. Slowly closing the distance between them, he studied her in silence. His gaze fell down to her mouth, which was slightly parted, and he could hear the quiet sound of her breathing.
She seemed bemused and somewhat unnerved by his silence. It was a remarkable change from the other night. How unsettled would she be if he kissed her at this exact moment? A rush of desire crashed through him at the thought, and he quickly fought off the impulse to steal a kiss. Pink color stained her cheeks as if she’d read his thoughts, and he allowed a small smile to touch his lips.
“What should we wager?” he murmured as he enjoyed the sight of her confusion.
Even if he was wrong about Lachlan catching Morag, he’d already won by watching her reaction to him. Something stirred inside him as she swallowed hard and bent her head to avoid his gaze. It was further evidence of how much he’d rattled her composure, and he took pleasure in how her confusion made her exquisite to look at. Almost as if she could read his thoughts, she lifted her gaze to meet his with an expression of regal serenity on her face.
“If I win, you must have supper with me and the children tonight.” Startled by her stipulation, he frowned, and she gently scoffed at his hesitation. “I thought you were certain Lachlan could catch Morag.”
“Oh, I’m certain of it. Certain enough that when I cross the finish line before you, I will require you call me Ewan from that point forward, and…” He paused as he realized what he’d been about to propose. Christ Jesus, he’d almost wagered a kiss in addition to hearing her call him by name. Her eyes were wide with astonishment, and the flush of color in her face that had faded returned to crest even higher in her cheeks.
“And what?”
The breathless note in her voice made Ewan’s muscles harden with tension. Damnation, but the woman was lovely enough to tempt a saint’s desire. The realization indicated the extreme peril he was in at the moment. He swallowed hard and pulled back from her as he quickly substituted another payment.
“You’ll dine with me tonight. Alone.”
He saw an odd flicker of emotion in her eyes that made him think she’d wanted him to ask for something different. Color still high in her cheeks, she nodded.
“I accept.”
She turned away from him and led Morag out into the yard. Before she was halfway to the mounting block, Ewan captured her elbow to bring her to a halt. The instant he touched her, an electric bolt zipped through him as if he’d been touched by lightning. His reaction emphasized his poor judgement in helping her mount Morag.
Despite his mistake, anticipation crashed through him at the idea of touching her again, if even for just a few seconds. He almost groaned out loud at the thought. God help him, he was mad. Tension tightened his jaw as he gestured abruptly toward the mare. Bending slightly, he formed a makeshift step with his natural hand and braced himself against Morag's shoulder.
The moment she touched his shoulder to steady herself, another electrical shock pulsated through his body as if he’d been struck by lightning. Ignoring the sensation as best he could, he boosted her up into the saddle. Without meeting her eyes, he watched her lift up her skirt to reveal her legs covered in black breeches. She placed one leg over the pommel while lodging her other leg under the leaping pad.
Her movements revealed the sweet curve of her thigh and shapely calves, and the memory of seeing her body unencumbered by clothes made his mouth go dry. The sudden urge to run his hand up along her leg to the edge of a softly rounded bottom made him grow hard. Christ almighty, what the hell was wrong with him? Louisa Morehouse was proving to be far more dangerous than he’d realized.
He crushed the desire hardening his body and quickly set her foot into the sidesaddle’s stirrups then stepped back from Morag with a jerk. The moment her gaze met his, her hazel eyes flickered with awareness. It heightened the tactile tension between them.
Suddenly, her face softened into a sultry, come hither expression that made his body ache as he fought off the urge to pull her off the saddle and kiss her passionately. Muscles tight and rigid with desire he looked away from her and made a pretense of checking Morag’s bridle.
“Do you know where the rock formation is, just across the burn?”
“Yes.” The breathless note hadn’t left her voice, and it did things to his insides he didn’t like. His brain laughed at him. No. He liked the way she made him feel far too much.
“Whoever reaches the formation first is the winner.”
He didn’t wait for a reply and headed toward Lachlan’s stall. Behind him, he heard Morag’s hooves softly pounding the barn’s wooden floor as Louisa rode the mare out of the stable. Ewan didn't look back as he entered Lachlan’s stall and ran his gloved hand over the stallion’s back.
For the first time in his life, he was considering throwing a race. Not because he wanted to, but because of what would happen if he won. Grunting in disgust at the predicament he'd created for himself, he took his time saddling Lachlan. Losing wasn’t something he enjoyed, but an intimate meal for two was something to avoid at all costs.
While it wasn't the choice he preferred, it was the best one for his sanity. What he really wanted was far too dangerous to even consider. The memory of seeing Louisa’s lush, naked curves the night he’d found her made Ewan’s cock stir under his kilt. He quickly crushed the images as he tightened the cinch under Lachlan’s belly.
With the stallion saddled, Ewan led the horse out of the stable. He turned his head toward the rock formation that was the finish line. Louisa already had a good head start, which offered him a small measure of satisfaction.
Unless he pushed Lachlan hard, he wouldn’t be able to catch her. Having supper with the boys and her was the sane choice, and sanity wasn’t something he’d possessed much of since the first time he’d seen Louisa Morehouse. He should never have agreed to let her be Ross’s governess in the first place.
The stallion danced to one side, and the action tugged roughly on his artificial arm. Ewan winced with discomfort as the leather cupping the stump of his arm bit into his skin. Even without the darkness that existed in the walls of Argaty Keep, his own sad state of affairs would be a deterrent toward any type of involvement with the woman. He grimaced at the thought.
Ewan vaulted himself up into the saddle and the shock of the cold leather against his bare skin was a welcome sensation. It meant his body was more likely not to respond to Louisa’s presence. In the back of his head he heard a cackling laugh but ignored it. He glanced over at the paddock and saw McCallum watching him. At the sly smile on the Scotsman’s face Ewan release a harsh breath of disgust.
McCallum’s wily grin became one of broad amusement on his craggy features, and Ewan glared at the family retainer before his legs applied a firm pressure into Lachlan’s sides. As he rode the horse out of the stable yard at a fast trot in Louisa’s direction, he heard the old retainer laugh. With a grunt of irritation, Ewan knew better than to look back at the Scotsman. It would only provide the man with fodder for the next time he saw the man who'd been the father figure in his life.
Once on the moor, he pushed the stallion into an easy canter as he gauged the distance between him and Louisa. Satisfied the distance between the two horses made it unlikely the stallion would catch the mare, he pushed Lachlan into a gallop. He wanted to ensure his loss, but avoid the prospect of Louisa realizing he’d deliberately thrown the match. The animal strained at the bit, obviously eager to catch the mare. The action made Ewan want to give Lachlan his head, but he kept the stallion from accelerating to a faster pace.
As Ewan closed the distance between them, he saw Louisa look over her shoulder. That he could clearly see her satisfied expression made him suddenly realize how much ground the stallion had covered in closing the distance between them. As the stone pillar jutting up from the ground grew larger in size, Lachlan strained even harder at the bit.
They were only a few lengths behind Morag, and the stallion clearly wanted to catch the mare. The burn was now clearly in view, and he released a harsh oath. He had no doubt Louisa would try to jump the stream. Normally, he wouldn’t have thought anything of her taking Morag over the water.
The burn was usually a small, narrow strip of water, and a relatively easy jump. But all the rain they’d had in the past month had widened the burn to almost twice its size, and Morag wasn’t accustomed to jumping.
“Stop, Louisa,” he shouted.
Either she didn’t hear him or she ignored his command. As the mare leapt up into the air, Ewan dragged in a sharp breath. A second later Morag’s front hooves hit the slope of the burn, and her rear legs thrashed in the water as the small mare struggled to scramble out of the water.
Drawing back on Lachlan’s reins he forced the stallion to go slower and rode the animal into the stream alongside the mare. The look of grim determination on Louisa’s face made him hesitate. The woman wasn’t going to be happy with him, but he could tell the way Morag was floundering it was difficult for the mare to gain solid footing.
Before she could protest, Ewan wrapped his good arm around Louisa’s waist then pulled her off Morag and sat her down in front of him. Sputtering with outrage, she jabbed him with her elbow.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Any other time, her colorful language might have made him laugh, but he was too relieved she was safe to do anything more than grimace. Lachlan carried them up onto solid ground and safety as a soft gasp echoed in his ear. Ewan looked down to see all the color had left Louisa’s face as she stared at something behind him.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Morag lurch wildly then stagger to one side before she regained her footing and climbed up the embankment. He knew without saying a word Louisa had suddenly realized the high probability she would have been unseated or the mare would have been injured in the animal's effort not to throw Louisa. His gaze returned to study her stricken expression, and she quickly averted her gaze.
“I was certain Morag could make it up the embankment,” she whispered with remorse.
“Normally she could, but the burn was too wide for her with all the rain we’ve had.”
“I should have known better.”
“You wanted to win,” he murmured in response to her self-recrimination.
She muttered something unintelligible as she sank deeper into his chest. With incredible speed, his body reacted to her warmth. Something primitive rose inside him as he watched the rapid flutter on the side of her neck that was her heartbeat.
Desperately he struggled with the growing need to caress the spot with his mouth. At that moment, she turned her head, and her soft mouth parted slightly as if she’d gasped. Color quickly filled her cheeks before she swallowed hard and jerked her gaze away.
“It appears you’ve won, Ewan.”
The soft sound of his name drifting past her lips was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. He didn’t realize his arm had tightened around her until it was too late. For a split-second, she stiffened against him before her body relaxed against him once more. Never in his life had he experienced such a sensation of sheer, agonizing temptation.
Eager to put distance between them, he unceremoniously forced her to slide off Lachlan’s back onto the ground. She stared up at him
in surprise and with what he thought might be disappointment.
“If anyone won, it was you,” he grounded out as he dismounted Lachlan knowing she would need assistance mounting the mare. “In better weather, Morag would have sailed across the burn without any problem at all. I’ll not hold you to our wager.”
“Very well, but I will, since you’ve conceded the race in my favor. I expect you to dine with me and the children at six this evening.”
“I did not concede the race in your favor, I called the race a tie.”
“No, you said ‘if anyone won, it was you,’ which means you’re required to honor your commitment this evening.” The triumph threading its way beneath her reply made him grimace.
“Remind me never to enter into another wager with you again.”
“Only if I think I might lose.” The mischievous reply made him laugh. It was an unexpected sound that surprised him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually laughed.
“You should laugh more often,” she said with a smile. “It makes you look younger and far less forbidding.”
Ignoring her gentle barb, Ewan walked past her with a shake of his head to where Morag stood several feet away. He quickly checked Morag's girth cinch to determine how secure it was against the mare's belly. Satisfied the cinch was still snug despite the animal's struggle to cross the burn, he grabbed Morag’s reins and led the mare back to Louisa. He gestured for Louisa to mount, and this time he steeled himself for his body's reaction to her. Relief relaxed his tight muscles as seconds later he was able to step back from the mare.
“There’s a bridge about a mile down the burn. We can cross the stream there.”
For a moment it appeared as if she wanted to argue, but she simply accepted his decree with a bob of her head. The moment she was seated in the saddle, he quickly ensured her feet were in the stirrups then mounted Lachlan.
Ewan turned the stallion in the direction of the bridge and rode off without waiting for Louisa. Behind him, he thought he heard a gasp, but he didn’t turn his head to see her expression. They rode in tandem for a few minutes before she suddenly appeared beside him.