Page 4 of A Scoundrel’s Promise

“You may put me down, sir.”

“If ye are certain,” he said. “You took quite a fall.”

Again, she noted the exaggerated concern in his voice.

Did he know she’d jumped from the horse? Impossible.

Mackenzie met his gaze squarely. “Thank you for your concern, but I am made of tougher stuff than most ladies. It is not the first time I have fallen from a horse.”

“Indeed? How many other gentlemen have come to your rescue?”

“Only you—not counting my brother.”

Ninny, she mentally berated. Why mention Jamie?

“Then I am honored.” He set her feet on the ground, albeit slowly, then stepped back. “Shall I escort you ladies home?”

“Oh, no,” Cora blurted. “It is not far.” She grabbed Mackenzie’s arm and pulled her toward the horses.

Mackenzie grabbed the pommel and lifted her foot to the stirrup.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance.” He took two steps to her and, before she realized his intent, he grasped her waist and hoisted her up. Her pulse quickened at the tightening of his fingers around her waist. Heavens, he had lifted her as if she weighed no more than a feather.

She snapped her gaze onto him. “Thank you.” She grimaced inwardly. Her voice was far too breathless.

He bowed with a flourish, then stepped back as they urged their horses forward. Mackenzie caught sight of a sketch pad sticking out from his horse’s saddlebag. It is him! She’d heard how Liam Fraser, the second son to the Viscount of Kilbreck, never went anywhere without his sketchpad.

They’d gone only a few feet when a thought struck. They were headed back the way they’d come—instead of continuing in the direct they had been when they passed the abbey gate. Mackenzie twisted and looked over her shoulder. Lord Liam stared, arms crossed over his broad chest, his mouth curved in amusement.

She caught sight of another rider headed down the road toward the gate. Mackenzie faced forward again. He knew she had fallen on purpose, and he also now knew they had purposely ridden past the abbey.

They reached the field. Mackenzie forced herself to keep her gaze straight ahead. She would not look back. It would be a mistake for him to know that she was curious about whether or not he still watched them. But she would wager he was. A gentleman always watched a lady’s retreat.

“I must admit, he is very handsome,” Cora said. “Do you think he’s Lord Kilbreck?”

“Of course not. Did you not notice how openly he flirted with me? A newly married man would never act so shamefully.”

Cora nodded. “True.”

“We were very fortunate,” Mackenzie said. “That was none other than Lord Liam himself.”

“I thought you said you had never seen him before.”

Mackenzie relaxed her hold on the reins. “True. But did you see the sketchpad in his saddlebag?”

Cora frowned. “What sketchpad?”

“The one in his saddlebag. I heard that Lord Liam often carries a sketchpad. It had to be him.”

“I don’t know,” Cora said slowly. “It is possible he left the sketchpad in the saddlebag and another gentleman simply used the saddle bag.”

“Do not be ridiculous. An artist never forgets his sketchpad. Nae. That was Lord Liam. He is as handsome as I heard. Did you see his green eyes? I could stare into those eyes all day.” And night.

“Indeed, I did notice his eyes.” Cora sniffed. “He, however, did not notice me. Completely ignored me, in fact.”

“Oh, do not be angry, Cora. It isn’t so much that he ignored you, as it is that he and I…made an instant deep connection.” A raindrop landed on Mackenzie’s hand. She glanced at the sky. The dark clouds were almost directly overhead. If they arrived home drenched, her mother would be angry.

“You often make instant connections with gentlemen,” Cora said.