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Authors: Margo Maguire
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through Gordon’s heart, and tossed Béatrice from the tower window.”
Lucy paled and Ian realized it had not been necessary to give quite so brutal an explanation. Admittedly, it had been a gruesome end for the lovers, but he
could have said he didn’t know what had happened to them. He could have told her about the legend of a hidden cache of gold that Béatrice and
Gordon had hidden from their lord and master.
But he kept his silence on the foolish tale, and all the others he’d heard about the two lovers. She wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered,
and Ian saw that hint of vulnerability she’d shown yesterday. He had a nearly irresistible urge to close the distance between them and take her into
his arms, but there was no point. He was in no position to offer comfort to anyone. Especially not a dark-haired English beauty who seemed to have little
use for him.
“I am glad my father has allowed us to choose,” she said. “I would not care to be given in marriage to a husband I did not know. Or
love.”
“Is that why you are unwed?” he asked. “You have not fallen in love with anyone?”
She blushed. “No. There is someone in Berkshire, which is why I am anxious to return home.”
“Then why—”
She coughed, though perhaps it was more of a choke. Perhaps regretting such a personal disclosure. “I think I will take my walk now.” She
started for the door that led to the wall and the open stone staircase.
He studied her for a moment. He wondered about her “someone,” and why she’d have traveled so far from home if he were waiting for her.
Perhaps he was not waiting.
“Come this way, Miss Stillwater. The gatehouse stairs are much safer. They are enclosed.”
He led her through the interior of the gatehouse, intending to go all the way down to the ground. But she stopped several times to ask him questions about
the building and who had lived in the rooms above. At ground level, she was enthralled by the double portcullis and the murder holes. Ian found her as
knowledgeable about Craigmuir Castle as she’d been about the Viking room at Glencory.
Once they reached the outer gate, Lucy turned to him and made a quick bow. “Thank you for the tour, my lord. I’ll just go on now…”
He watched as she walked down the drive, deciding there wasn’t any trouble she could get into. She would soon come upon Craigmuir Way, the hamlet at
the end of the path, and the people there were nothing if not hospitable.
Ian had business in the hamlet and would have offered to accompany her, but he was sure she’d have refused. It was plainly obvious she was
uninterested in his company.
* * *
The day had turned warm, and Lucy intended to enjoy a quiet walk in the countryside – something she had not been able to do since leaving Berkshire.
At home, she could follow footpaths that led to the homes of friends and neighbors. One path took her to Long Willow Place — Joshua’s home
– but she could hardly turn up at his manor every day. Her visits were rare, and were always in the company of her youngest sister, Emily.
Here, it was all uncharted territory, in every way. She’d never had dealings with a marquess before, or slept in a duke’s castle. And ghosts!
She wondered if they ever manifested themselves, or if their presence was merely legend. She’d been so sure she’d sensed something otherworldly
in the gatehouse. Could she have been mistaken? Or had Broxburn taken advantage of her curious nature and teased her with the tale of star-crossed lovers,
tragically killed.
She would not put it past him. He was possibly the most maddening man on earth, and she told herself the turmoil rippling through her was purely a reaction
to his boorishness. How dare he goad her into mentioning Joshua? Not that she’d actually said Joshua’s name, but she had no intention of
speaking of him with Lord Broxburn or anyone else. Not until she and Joshua were safely betrothed.
It had been
Lucy paled and Ian realized it had not been necessary to give quite so brutal an explanation. Admittedly, it had been a gruesome end for the lovers, but he
could have said he didn’t know what had happened to them. He could have told her about the legend of a hidden cache of gold that Béatrice and
Gordon had hidden from their lord and master.
But he kept his silence on the foolish tale, and all the others he’d heard about the two lovers. She wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered,
and Ian saw that hint of vulnerability she’d shown yesterday. He had a nearly irresistible urge to close the distance between them and take her into
his arms, but there was no point. He was in no position to offer comfort to anyone. Especially not a dark-haired English beauty who seemed to have little
use for him.
“I am glad my father has allowed us to choose,” she said. “I would not care to be given in marriage to a husband I did not know. Or
love.”
“Is that why you are unwed?” he asked. “You have not fallen in love with anyone?”
She blushed. “No. There is someone in Berkshire, which is why I am anxious to return home.”
“Then why—”
She coughed, though perhaps it was more of a choke. Perhaps regretting such a personal disclosure. “I think I will take my walk now.” She
started for the door that led to the wall and the open stone staircase.
He studied her for a moment. He wondered about her “someone,” and why she’d have traveled so far from home if he were waiting for her.
Perhaps he was not waiting.
“Come this way, Miss Stillwater. The gatehouse stairs are much safer. They are enclosed.”
He led her through the interior of the gatehouse, intending to go all the way down to the ground. But she stopped several times to ask him questions about
the building and who had lived in the rooms above. At ground level, she was enthralled by the double portcullis and the murder holes. Ian found her as
knowledgeable about Craigmuir Castle as she’d been about the Viking room at Glencory.
Once they reached the outer gate, Lucy turned to him and made a quick bow. “Thank you for the tour, my lord. I’ll just go on now…”
He watched as she walked down the drive, deciding there wasn’t any trouble she could get into. She would soon come upon Craigmuir Way, the hamlet at
the end of the path, and the people there were nothing if not hospitable.
Ian had business in the hamlet and would have offered to accompany her, but he was sure she’d have refused. It was plainly obvious she was
uninterested in his company.
* * *
The day had turned warm, and Lucy intended to enjoy a quiet walk in the countryside – something she had not been able to do since leaving Berkshire.
At home, she could follow footpaths that led to the homes of friends and neighbors. One path took her to Long Willow Place — Joshua’s home
– but she could hardly turn up at his manor every day. Her visits were rare, and were always in the company of her youngest sister, Emily.
Here, it was all uncharted territory, in every way. She’d never had dealings with a marquess before, or slept in a duke’s castle. And ghosts!
She wondered if they ever manifested themselves, or if their presence was merely legend. She’d been so sure she’d sensed something otherworldly
in the gatehouse. Could she have been mistaken? Or had Broxburn taken advantage of her curious nature and teased her with the tale of star-crossed lovers,
tragically killed.
She would not put it past him. He was possibly the most maddening man on earth, and she told herself the turmoil rippling through her was purely a reaction
to his boorishness. How dare he goad her into mentioning Joshua? Not that she’d actually said Joshua’s name, but she had no intention of
speaking of him with Lord Broxburn or anyone else. Not until she and Joshua were safely betrothed.
It had been
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