never die; it would always be a part of him. And if that was so, then if she gave freely, she had no reason to fear losing him.
The only question that remained was how much he understood-whether he would still fight fate-The Lady's will-or accept what she offered him.
She knew he was still awake, still floating in the warm afterglow. She drew in a slow breath, and took her courage in both hands. 'Why did you decide to come back?'
The quiet question hung in the dark, a sweetly tolling bell exhorting the truth.
Richard heard and considered the many answers. He'd returned because of the loneliness that had wracked his soul when, last night, he'd slept without her. Tried to sleep without her-without her warmth beside him, without her silken limbs alongside his, the sound of her breathing, soft and low, echoing in his heart. Tried to sleep without the fragrance of her hair sinking through his senses, anchoring him through the night. He hadn't slept at all.
He'd returned even faster after learning of Dougal Douglas, because of the feeling that had churned in his gut, spurring him back from Carlisle. Because of the dread certainty that he should never have left her.
A certainty transmogrified to fact in that horror-filled moment when, clattering wildly into the yard having seen the flames and smoke through the trees, he'd seen his worst nightmare enacted before him-seen her rush into a burning building.
He wasn't about to deny what he felt for her-the depth of what he felt for her-not ever again. He would have to learn to deal with it, learn how to live with it-and so would she.
Not, however, tonight. They were both far too tired to face such a task.
So he searched for a way to answer, some phrase that encompassed the truth. 'I came back because this is my place.' Turning his head, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. 'This is where I belong. With you. By your side.'
Catriona closed her eyes tight-against tears of relief, of joy, and something more besides. That last welled through her, poured through her, glowing brighter than spun gold.
This was where he belonged-here-by her side. She knew it-thank The Lady, he knew it, too.
Chapter 15
Despite the fire and its aftermath, or, perhaps, because of it, they both slept deeply and awoke early, still in each other's arms. The temptation to celebrate the night and its revelations was strong, but…
'I have to go to the circle.' Her head resting on Richard's chest, Catriona pushed at the heavy arm lying possessively over her waist. 'I should have gone two mornings ago-I really must go today.'
'I'll go with you.' The words were out before Richard thought; he quickly amended: 'I'll escort you there-if that's permitted?'
Still trapped under his arm, Catriona wriggled around so she could look into his face. 'You'll ride there with me?'
Somewhat warily-was he committing some witchy solecism?-Richard nodded. 'I'll wait, and ride back with you.'
She searched his eyes, searched his face, then her face transformed, lit by a glorious smile. 'Yes-come. I'd like that.'
It was all she said before scrambling from the bed; Richard followed, bemused. The smiles she kept beaming his way, even when-especially when-she thought he wasn't watching, tugged at his heart and made him smile, too. By the time they clattered out of the yard, she on her mare, he on Thunderer, she was radiant with delight.
He shook his head at her. 'Anyone would think I'd offered to buy you diamonds, not just ride with you to your prayers.'
She laughed-a sound so glorious it shook him-touched her heels to her mare's flanks, and headed across the melting snow.
Richard followed, easing Thunderer up alongside her mare. There was no point racing; the mare's short strides were no match for Thunderer's might. So they raced the wind instead, streaking up the vale in the chill of near-dawn, hoofbeats thudding in time with their hearts, breaths steaming as exhilaration overtook them.
Reaching the head of the vale, they slowed; Catriona led the way to an outcropping of rock that formed a natural shelf beside the circle. Sliding from her saddle, she glanced down the vale. The sun was rising in the purple mists beyond the mouth of the vale; the line marking the boundary between night and day, fuzzed by the clouds, advanced, unstoppable, toward them.
'I have to hurry.' Breathless, she glanced up at him as he took her reins, then she threw her arms about him, hugged him wildly, then ran for the entrance to the circle.
It was not a simple circle of trees, but a circular grove, grown dense with the centuries. The shadows within swallowed her up as she ran down the dimly lit path. Richard watched until the flickering light of her hair disappeared, then tethered the horses and found a comfortable rock on which to perch.
He was sitting on a lichen-covered boulder appreciating the sunrise when she came running out of the trees, with such joy suffusing her face that just knowing that he, quite aside from The Lady, had played a part in putting it there, warmed his heart. Smiling, he rose, and caught her as she ran full-tilt into his arms. He hugged her, stole a swift kiss, then tossed her to the mare's saddle.
They rode back through the sun-kissed morning, birdcall ringing about them, the chill lifting as the sun struck through the clouds and brought the landscape alive. Snow still stood in drifts across the fields, but brown now showed as well. Behind them, Merrick was still completely mantled, but below the snows, the earth was stirring. Warming. Returning to life.
As they rode side by side into the morning, Richard couldn't suppress the feeling that he, too, had lived through a dark season and was now emerging into the light.
No longer in any hurry, they ambled about the low hummock that hid the manor from sight. Squinting into the silver disc of the sun, they couldn't see the buildings, but knew they were there.
'Hrroooo.'
Richard reined in, blinking to clear his vision. Before them stood two of the vale's steers, in less than perfect condition. The cattle blinked sad brown eyes at them, then turned and ambled away. Frowning, Richard watched them go.
He had to start somewhere.
'Catriona-'
'I was just thinking-'
She broke off and looked at him; Richard quelled a grimace and gestured for her to go on.
Hands crossed on her saddlebow, she stared toward the manor. 'I was just wondering…' She paused; he saw her lips tighten. 'If you stay, will you miss the balls and parties?' Swiftly, she glanced at him. 'We don't have any, you know.'
'Thank heaven-and The Lady, I suspect-for that. I don't give a damn about balls and parties.' Considering the statement, Richard raised his brows. 'In fact, I haven't cared for them for years.' He met Catriona's wide- definitely wondering-gaze and narrowed his eyes. 'And I don't give a damn about the incredibly beautiful ladies who attend such events, either.'
Her eyes searched his, then her lips formed a silent 'Oh' before curving, just a little, at the ends.
Richard fought down an urge to kiss them. 'I'm staying-and you can forget any idea that I'll grow bored. There's plenty to keep me busy here-which brings me to what I wanted to discuss with you. The breeding stock.'
She grimaced and set the mare plodding slowly on. 'I haven't been able to find any source that I consider suitable. Mr. Potts is waiting for-
Richard drew in a long breath. 'I have a suggestion.' When she looked quickly around at him, he held up a staying hand. 'I know I vowed I wouldn't interfere with how you ran things-with how you managed the vale-so if
