“No, thank ye, Payton. I’ve seen the gardens many times.”
Mared listened to the sound of his sure footsteps and Beitris’s soft gait until they could no longer be heard in the room. Mared put her hand on Natalie’s shoulder and silently indicated she should go sit with Miss Douglas.
Natalie, bless her, went immediately to her post. “Have you ever been to England?” she asked, and began to talk of London, while Mared pretended to be viewing the many portraits of what were really far too many Douglases while covertly moving to the window and peeking out at the garden through the thick lead glass.
Aha, there they were. Their figures were somewhat distorted, but Mared could see them, walking side by side, Beitris’s hand in the crook of Payton’s elbow—or perhaps that was her parasol?—and his head quite close to hers. They strolled languidly, and Beitris would look up to him, and Mared imagined her face glowing with his undivided attention. At the end of the long walk, which was too far away for Mared to see clearly, Payton Douglas dipped his head and kissed Beitris.
At least Mared thought that was what he did. They were at a distance so she couldn’t be entirely certain, but then again…no. She was certain. He’d kissed Beitris.
It was cause for celebration! Her plan was working beautifully—so why it should make her belly roil she hardly knew or cared. She turned abruptly from the window, her face a wreath of smiles, and went to join Natalie and Miss Douglas.
When at last Payton and Beitris returned—he wearing a broad smile, and Beitris wearing a furious blush—he and his cousin saw the three of them out.
He helped Beitris onto the narrow bench of the cart while the groom put the donkey to the cart, and Natalie climbed onto the back. Mared was the last to reach the cart—she’d had trouble donning her frilly bonnet, for she rarely wore the blasted thing—and as she walked to the right side of the cart, Payton met her there and gallantly offered her a hand up.
With a slight frown, Mared reluctantly put her hand in his, and he instantly closed his fingers around hers. Firmly. Possessively. A hot flood of warmth shot through her arm and her chest, and it unsettled her so badly that she quickly lifted up and pulled her hand free so that she could take the reins from the groomsman.
Only then did she dare to glance down at him. He was looking up at her, his gray eyes shimmering with something very deep and very alarming. “Good day, Miss Lockhart. And thank ye for bringing Miss Crowley and Miss Natalie to call. It’s been a very pleasurable afternoon.”
“Ye are quite welcome,” she said merrily while her heart pounded furiously. “And now, we must be on our way. Good day, then!” She cracked the reins against the donkey’s back, sending the beast into such a quick trot that Payton Douglas had no time to move. He was knocked down by the sudden movement of the cart; it was only his cousin’s shriek that alerted Mared to the accident.
Three
I n spite of Sarah’s protestations that he might have been killed, Payton wasn’t hurt. He’d had the wind and his pride knocked out of him, but he was otherwise quite all right.
He’d rather sternly suggested that perhaps Mared leave the driving of the donkey to someone with a wee bit more finesse of the reins.
But before he’d hobbled off with the aid of his cousin and his groom, he’d seen the glint of fear in Mared’s forest green eyes, the fear of that goddamn curse, and he had said sharply, “I know what ye’re thinking, lass, and ye’re wrong to think it!”
His admonishment earned him a dark frown, and she had climbed back onto the wagon and driven off.
Payton slept badly that night, dreaming of ancient curses and horrible accidents and Mared’s green eyes.
But he was set to rights the next morning and resumed his attempts at courting her. Over the course of the next few days, he sent more flowers and laughed when he received her reply that the Highland ling had given her a curious rash. He sent an invitation to ride about Eilean Ros, but she declined, citing a freshly broken leg. And when he finally rode across Ben Cluaran and called at Talla Dileas, interrupting a family game of lawn bowling, in which Mared was playing on her miraculously healed broken leg, she deigned to obey her father and allow him to play beside her, then swore on her honor that she did not intentionally drop the heavy ball on the toe of his boot.