As they travelled, he fixed his eyes on the opposite wall, trying to ignore the strange, unsettled feeling of having a woman so close in the privacy of the carriage. It had been a long time since he’d been alone with any sort of female and even longer since his needs had been met by one. It was wrong to even think about such things in the presence of a well-born young lady, but he could not seem to turn his mind away from them.
He glanced down at her, then quickly away again. She was not the prettiest girl in England, but she was certainly one of the most striking he had seen. Would her eyes be blue or green when she opened them? Either would be an appealing match to her hair.
If she opened them, he reminded himself, reaching into his pocket and finding a handkerchief, then splashing some brandy from his flask on to it so he could clean the wound on her head. Her skin was pale, but he suspected it was naturally so. Redheads often had the sort of luminous complexion that this woman did. Even smudged with dirt, there was an almost regal dignity about her that was clearly a sign of excellent breeding. She put him in mind of a sleeping princess, albeit a very tall one.
He could not help casting a glance at her left hand and its empty ring finger. He was not in the market for a wife, now or ever. Nor was he the prince that this girl deserved. After seeing what damage he could do in a wordless meeting, she would be wise to run from him before they had spoken. Since she was unable to escape, it would be his responsibility to keep her safe and free of his company.
But a part of him did not want to. He liked the feeling of her resting against him. It also helped to know that, although he had been responsible for her accident, he was doing his best to make things right again. It went against his nature to leave the work to others, if there was something he could do to help.
Perhaps it was simply because she was young and pretty, but he wanted to be the one who could help this girl. He could imagine her waking, her golden lashes fluttering and the puzzled look on her face turning to relief as he explained that he had rescued her. Then, he would assure her that everything would be right from this point on, for both of them.
He shook his head, rejecting the misguided idea that a happy future would come, just because he wished for it. Then, he reached behind him and opened the window that communicated with the driver and urged the groom on the seat to go faster, so they might arrive home before he had any more foolish ideas.
Copyright © 2020 by Christine Merrill
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ISBN-13: 9781488065835
The Highlander and the Wallflower
Copyright © 2020 by Michelle Willingham
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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