A Highland Folly (8 page)

“Must you take everything I say as a sign that I am seeking a way to halt the road?”

“Must you take everything I say as an excuse for a brangle?”

“When you use that sharp tone, yes, I must.”

When Lucais laughed heartily, Anice stared at him. He was the most bewildering person she had ever met.

“I will keep that in mind,” he said. “Before you ask, I came up here only to see how Ardkinloch and the old castle survived this morning's blasting.”

“It appears that Dhùin Liath is stable. Inside the manor house there were some problems, but nothing that we can't take care of before the next time.”

“Are you sure the castle is all right?”

She frowned. “It looks so from here.”

“Do you ever go in it?”

“I did some exploring when I first arrived here, but it's not wise to spend too much time there.”

“Odd.”

“What is odd?” she asked, wondering why he was being incomprehensible again.

“Potter mentioned some of the lads were sure they had seen lights up at the old castle last night.”

She laughed. “No doubt they saw moonlight through the windows in the remnants of the inner wall. They aren't the first to be bamblusterated by the illusion.”

“Keep a watchful eye on the castle.”

“I will, although I think it is unnecessary.”

“You consider many important things unnecessary.” He leaned toward her, his hand sliding behind her.

Although he did not touch her, he seemed to surround her, teasing her to move the bare inch that would bring her into his arms. It took all her strength to move away and stand. When her gaze was captured by his, she knew she had only to put her hands on his wide shoulders and he would pull her close enough to sample his lips.

“What I consider necessary is fulfilling my obligations to my family,” Anice said.

His smile vanished as he set himself on his feet. “An obligation you did not ask to have dumped on you.”

“No, but it is my duty now to oversee my family's affairs.”

“Which leaves you no time for your own.”

That too-familiar flame of embarrassment swept up her face. “You should not speak so.”

“'Tis your thoughts, not my words, that are leading this conversation in a most intriguing direction.” His finger brushed her cheek along the ribbons of her straw bonnet. “You must not let your own thoughts do me damage in your eyes.”

Again, although it was the hardest thing she had ever done, she stepped back. “I need to return to Ardkinloch to do … to do …” She could not think of a lie when she could read such a fierce truth in his eyes. He wanted to kiss her, and she wished he would.

But she knew how little privacy she truly had. As if she has spoken those words aloud, she heard a shout from farther down the hill. She pulled her gaze from Lucais's and waved to her aunt, who was motioning for her to come to the manor house.

“I must go,” Anice said, knowing her voice sounded as lame as her excuse. “Aunt Coira has even less patience than Neilli and Parlan.”

“I shall not keep you here a moment longer than you wish to stay.”

She nodded and started to turn, then faltered. Looking back, she saw his eyes were twinkling again. Lucais MacFarlane possessed her third stepfather's gift of giving words more than one meaning. And he possessed her most recent stepfather's ability to see past her façade to determine what she was hiding in her heart. A very dangerous combination, especially when she was not completely sure what she was keeping in the depths of her heart.

Lucais ran his hand along the side of the rock that was jutting out of the hill. They must take care with this section. It would not be removed easily. At the same time, they must make sure the whole edge of the hill was not loosened. Nothing was simple here. He did have to be grateful that on this far side of the river from Killiebige, the explosions would not shake the village quite so badly.

He kicked a rock and watched it sail into the air before splashing in the river. Spanning this stretch of water was going to be a challenge. The river's course seldom remained the same from season to season. The bridge would need to be sturdy to withstand floods and droughts. Mayhap they should have determined a way to control the Abhainn an Uruisg before designing this bridge.

Walking back to where he had left his horse, he looked at a pier that had been abandoned by the river. Now it was set in the midst of a muddy plain. A small barge edged across the current. When he saw a trio of sheep and two children perched in the middle of the barge, which was little more than a raft, he smiled in spite of himself. He recalled sneaking away from home to seek adventure on a distant shore. It had not mattered that it was simply a river's breadth away. Then it had seemed like a grand voyage of exciting discovery.

His smile broadened as he swung up into the saddle. This project was going to be a challenge, which was the only reason he had let the engineering company persuade him to come back to Scotland. If all went as he hoped, he would make this his swan song, a success that he could recall when he was burdened with obligations he never had expected—or wanted—to be his.

When Lucais saw a slender form walking along the lane in front of him, he arched a brow. No matter where he went, it seemed that his path eventually crossed Anice Kinloch's. He had no complaint with that save that each encounter whetted the craving to touch her. Her fiery red hair matched the potent passions in her eyes.

But here on this side of the river? This might be some grand jest, he decided, as he stared at the elegant house that was set upon a low hill beyond a long stone wall that snaked along the crest and down toward the riverbank. He had been furious when he learned that he was being sent
here
instead of the Pennines. Yet his promise to complete this final project for his partners had kept him from saying no even though he wanted to curse the twist of fate that had brought him back to the banks of the Abhainn an Uruisg.

He set the horse to a faster pace along the narrow, twisting path. Turning, Anice revealed her surprise, then her eyes narrowed, reminding him that all her emotions were not sweet. This strong-willed woman would not relent in her resolve to do what she believed was her duty.

“Did you follow me here?” she asked as he neared.

“Not exactly.” He swung down off the horse. Looking up at the stone gates, he asked, “Have you decided to give your neighbors on this side of the river a look-in?”

“It seemed like a good idea. I wish to know what others are thinking about your work here.”

“Or are you trying to escape from Ardkinloch and the opinions there?”

Anice laughed, the anger vanishing from her eyes. “It might be a bit of both.”

“After hearing about the brangle your cousin was part of last night at the tavern in Killiebige, I should have suspected as much.”

“Parlan was simply boasting.” She laced her fingers together in front of her. “Not exactly boasting when he told Mr. Potter that he could outshoot any Englishman working for you. Parlan is an excellent marksman.”

“How excellent?”

“He did not shoot at us!” Anice turned to walk through the gates of Chester Hills. When Lucais's hand settled on her arm, she turned, startled. Not just at his brazen motion but at her reaction to it. Something warm inside her urged her to forgive him for being so bold … and for anything else he might do. She must have taken a knock in the cradle to be so silly. After all, her ears still rang with Neilli's outrage that Anice had not followed her immediately back to Ardkinloch two days before, when Lucais had stopped to speak with them.

“Just being seen with him,” Neilli had argued, “will label you his ally.”

“That is ridiculous,” Anice had answered as she paced her bedchamber in Ardkinloch.

“Is it? If you heard the talk in the village, you would know you need to be careful.”

“I do not need to hear any poker-talk to know the need for caution.” Anice set her bonnet on the chaise longue by her bedroom window overlooking the valley below. Realizing she was staring in the direction of the road camp, she looked back at her cousin, who was bristling with her fury. “Neilli, I appreciate your counsel, but consider this. Making the roadmen furious might cause more trouble for this glen.”

“You do not care about all the roadmen. Just Lucais MacFarlane.”

“He has been most pleasant.”

Neilli had sniffed her disbelief. “If you are going to show a want of sense, then I must speak with Parlan without delay on this.”

Anice shivered as she recalled her cousin's words, even though she doubted if Neilli had had a chance to speak with Parlan about that conversation. Parlan had not been at Ardkinloch for the past two days. Even Neilli seemed unsure where he might be, saying only that her brother liked to go hunting among the upper reaches. Anice had believed he was there until she heard about the uproar over the conversation between Parlan and Mr. Potter at the tavern.

“Anice, I did not mean to suggest that your cousin took aim on us,” Lucais said, drawing her attention back to him.

“Then why did you ask?”

“Trying to keep the conversation going while I devise an excuse to join you on this call.”

“Why?” She frowned. Until then, Lucais had been one of the most logical persons she had ever met. Could it be that the Highlands drained away all good sense? That was a simple explanation for all the silliness she had endured since she'd come here.

“I said I had no excuse.”

When he gave her a lopsided grin, Anice laughed. She appreciated his honesty after the uneasy questions she had received from Mr. Tawes on her way to take Mr. McNab's ferry across the river. If Killiebige's mayor had been as sincere with the English government instead of trying to gather their favor at the same time he vowed to his neighbors that he would keep the road from being built, the glen would not be torn as it was.

And you would not have met Lucais
. She did not try to silence that thought. Attempting to keep her rebellious mind in check had been futile, especially when the thin sunshine slicing through the clouds burnished his black hair with blue fire. His mud-splattered coat accented the strength of each motion while he tied his horse's reins to a tree near the gates.

“Shall we, Anice?” he asked, offering his arm.

“As you can think of no excuse not to join me, yes.” She put her fingers on his arm. Her memories had not played her false, for his muscles were as hard as she recalled from when he had carried her to Ardkinloch. “I have not heard any explosions today.”

“Not from gunpowder at any rate.”

“Are you having trouble?” Anice did not want to think of trouble as they walked past neatly trimmed bushes that seemed so unlike the wild heather and brightly hued saxifrage along the river. Few plants had a chance of surviving within the walls of Ardkinloch, for the family had a tradition of bringing the sheep in. For safekeeping, she had been told, although she doubted anyone would be raiding the flock in this civilized age.

“The men are frustrated with the lack of welcome in Killiebige,” Lucais replied. Pausing in the middle of the road leading toward the front of the stone house that was so grand it seemed out of place here, he gave her a wry grin. “I had warned them, but I suppose they had to see the truth for themselves.”

“You must truly hate it here.”

“Is it that obvious?”

She smiled as his lips quirked. Keeping her hand within his arm, she matched the easy pace he set toward the house. “In some ways, you seem more at home here than I believe I ever shall. Yet in others you have a Town polish that Neilli longs to have her brother obtain.”

“Such a polish is often gained at the high price of submerging one's true thoughts and feelings.”

“Which you seem to have become a master of.”

He glanced at her and away, but not before she saw his lips tighten. She considered saying she was sorry, but she had no idea what she had said that would cause him to put up this icy wall between them. Even as they reached the front door of the massive stone house, she had not decided whether an unsatisfactory apology or silence would be best.

Lucais was as taciturn when he lifted the knocker and rapped it twice before stepping aside. When she looked at him, he did not meet her eyes. Instead, he was glaring around, not with curiosity but with some other emotion she could not discern. He was becoming a greater puzzle all the time.

The door swung open to allow her to enter a magnificent hall. She was sure several of the largest rooms in Ardkinloch would fit within this space that was empty save for a splendid staircase that was so wide, a carriage and four could have driven up it without hitting the banister on either side. The polished wood floor shone in the faint light coming from the narrow windows above. Paintings hung on the walls, but the shadows concealed any hint of what the subject might be.

“Good afternoon,” said a footman in dark green livery. “May I help you?”

“I am Anice Kinloch. I wish to speak with Lord Chesterburgh.” She hoped if she could convince the marquess to share his thoughts with her on this project, she would have a better sense of how best to handle the heated tempers in the village.

When he did not answer, she realized he was looking past her to Lucais.

“This is Mr. MacFarlane, who is the chief engineer with the road project,” she added. “May we speak with the marquess?”

The footman gulped, then replied, “Lady Kinloch, Lord Chesterburgh is not in.”

“Do you expect him to return soon?”

“He should be back from Edinburgh within the next few days.”

Anice glanced from the footman, who was still staring at Lucais, to Lucais, who seemed indifferent to the man's curiosity and obvious disquiet. Mayhap Lucais had called here before. Soothing her curiosity about what he had learned on his visit must wait until they could speak without others overhearing.