Page 30 of A Temptress in Tartan

“Good. Now, where should we place the Bible? Somewhere all can see and where you can help the servants to read from it.”

“You wish me to teach the servants to read?”

“Aye. I want them to be able to read from the Bible. If they can, they will all be safer from the witch hunters, should they come this way.”

“You really care about your people.”

“I care about their future, aye. We have terrible problems in our country that go beyond poverty and illness. During the past year I have watched both of my cousins’ wives suffer most horribly because of the fanatical zeal of some who see witches everywhere and in every act of goodness or malice.” He paused, looking earnestly into her face. “Will you teach them to read, Elizabeth?”

She nodded. “I will not only teach them to read but to write as well.” His smiled warmed her clear to her toes. “When should we start?”

“Tomorrow morning, after chapel?”

She nodded. “I will need several slates and chalk.”

“I will make certain you have what you need.” He stood. “Now all that is settled, I have another surprise for you.” He reached for her hand.

She hesitated. “Truly, you have gifted me far too much already with this chamber and a direction for my new life here.”

After giving her hand a squeeze of encouragement, he guided her from the room. “’Tis market day in Whittingehame village. I have it on good authority the draper is there with many lengths of beautiful silks and brocades, and that the town seamstress is more than eager to make her new mistress several new gowns all in the latest styles.”

“I couldn’t possibly impose—”

“Nonsense,” Lachlan said, guiding her out of the castle to where two horses waited. “I intend to give you not only what you need, but also what you desire.” He lifted her onto the horse’s back. His hands lingered at her waist. She closed her eyes, reveling in the sensations of his hands on her body. With each day, and each touch, her capitulation threatened as he wore her down with his strength and his passion.

“Elizabeth?”

She opened her eyes slowly, and when she did her breath caught at what she saw on his face. His eyes filled with wonder and his smile was blatantly sensual. “Why are you being so considerate? You need not. I belong to you.”

“You matter to me.”

Four simple words. Wild color stained her cheeks as she looked down at his hands, which still encircled her waist. “You are starting to matter to me as well.”

Heaven help them both.

*

Lachlan had sent their marketing home with one of the servants who attended them, while he and Elizabeth went another direction, to a place he had only discovered the week before near the glen.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked from atop her horse.

“To a special place. It’s only a little farther.”

She frowned as she looked at the darkening sky. “It’s dusk. The night is upon us.”

He knew she was thinking of her father. Lachlan’s thoughts had also strayed in that direction a time or two during the day. He had expected Donald Ruthven to show himself at Whittingehame by now, yet he had not. Part of Lachlan wondered why, but the other part dismissed the man entirely. He had decided long ago not to give the Ruthvens any more of his thoughts than they deserved.

And the woman before him? Did he no longer see her as a Ruthven? Forcing the question away, he turned to Elizabeth. “I do not fear your father. Please, trust me. All will be well.” At least that was his hope.

As he rode beside her in silence, he noted that her shoulders were no longer as tense, and the lines around her eyes had eased in the past two days. Was it his own hopeful imagination, or was Elizabeth softening toward him?

After a few moments more, he reined his horse to a stop. “We have arrived.” The only movement in the night was the wind as it rustled through the leaves overhead.

She stopped beside him. He slipped from his horse’s back and then helped her dismount. He tethered the animals to a nearby gorse bush with enough lead so they could graze, before removing a blanket from the saddlebag. He offered Elizabeth his hand. She took it and together they set off to a clearing ahead.

She smiled and something in her face changed. Her eyes lifted to his, filled with an emotion he’d never seen there before. One she’d never let him see as fully as she did now. Was it acceptance, friendship, or something more? They might already be married to each other, but they still had a long way to go to build a life together. How did two people whose lives up to this point had been filled with trauma and pain find a way to each other when everything around them conspired against them?

He came to a stop in a meadow a few yards away from the horses. Dropping her hand, he spread the blanket on the ground. “Come, join me,” he said, stretching atop the blanket. “I have one more gift to give to you.”