He had also sworn a promise to Lachlan’s father that their families would join in marriage. Tavin had been Ned’s best friend, and he intended to honour that vow, regardless of her own hesitance.
But what bothered her now was why her father had suddenly wanted her to recall the night of her attack. He’d been probing for more information, and he would not say why. If anything, she wanted to put it behind her and never think of it again. But something was troubling her father. She could see the worry nagging at him, and it made her wonder about the reason for it.
The viscount was waiting for her to speak, but truthfully, she had nothing at all to say. They turned a corner along the walkway, and out of nowhere, a young man came hurtling towards her.
A flash of fear made her nearly drop the pug. Before she could react, the viscount stepped in front of her and pushed the man away. ‘Have a care and watch where you’re going!’
Lord Camford kept himself in front of her, and the young man blurted out, ‘I am so terribly sorry. We were just having a footrace, and I didn’t see you.’ He apologised again and beat a hasty retreat. The viscount turned back to her, but Regina’s heart was still racing.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘I’m so sorry he frightened you.’ Though there was no harm done, she could not bring herself to speak.
‘Come and sit down,’ Lord Camford offered. He picked up the lead, and thankfully the foxhound had not wandered far. He brought her over to a bench, and she sat gratefully. For a time, he simply sat beside her while she calmed her fears. The pug was scrambling to get down, but she didn’t dare move. Lord Camford took the dog from her and simply waited. He did not try to fill the silence with mindless conversation but let her take the time she needed.
When she could finally gather her thoughts, she said quietly, ‘Thank you for defending me.’ In truth, she had not expected him to respond so swiftly. Because of it, the young man had not stumbled over her.
‘I will always keep you safe, Lady Regina,’ the viscount answered. His voice was quiet and undemanding. In his eyes, she saw not only the promise of protection, but also an undisguised longing.
And she simply didn’t know what to do about it.
Dalton watched from across the ballroom as Lady Regina pressed her hands against her white-silk gown. He could sense her nerves, for Lachlan MacKinloch, Laird of Locharr, was finally here. Her father had a broad smile on his face, as if his greatest wish was about to come true. It took every shred of control for Dalton to push back his frustration. He had known this moment would come, when Locharr arrived to claim his promised bride.
But he’d not expected the surge of dark jealousy. There was no reason for it, for no promises had ever been made. He and Lady Regina had been friends, and that was all. It was his own fault for wanting more.
Instead, he walked to her side, and she turned to look at him. Dalton bowed in greeting and said, ‘You look beautiful, Lady Regina.’
‘Thank you,’ she answered softly. Her white gown made her face paler than usual, but it accentuated her blue eyes and fiery red hair. She was like Aphrodite, a benevolent goddess whom he wanted to worship and adore.
‘Have you spoken with MacKinloch yet?’ he asked. He wanted to see her reaction when he spoke of the laird, for he didn’t know if she was still considering the betrothal.
‘Not yet.’
Again, her voice was so quiet, almost fearful. He knew he ought to leave her, to let her meet her future husband alone. But it felt as if he were leaving her among the wolves. So many men and women were staring at her—the men with knowing gazes and the women with bitter jealousy. The need to protect her, to shield her from gossip, overcame all common sense.
‘Would you care to dance?’ he asked. It would grant her a distraction, and it gave him the chance to hold her hands and offer a silent reassurance.
‘No, thank you.’ Her voice remained cool, like ice. He could understand why other men would view her as frigid, but he knew the truth. It was fear beneath those deep blue eyes. Fear of what, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to leave her side.
Before he could speak, he heard a slight buzz of conversation, and the crowds of people parted. Beside him, Lady Regina seemed to shrink back in alarm. There was no mistaking the appearance of Lachlan MacKinloch, though he was wearing English attire instead of his Scottish tartan. His long hair was tied back, and he stared at the crowd until at last he saw her.
Dalton eyed his friend, wondering what exactly would happen. Locharr wasn’t known for being a man of ceremony, and he cared little for manners. But it did seem that he was trying to blend in somewhat.
Regina, in contrast, looked as if she wanted to flee. Her blush suffused her face, and though he ought to leave her alone with her intended, something told him to remain here. She appeared almost grateful by his presence.
‘Lady Regina,’ the laird greeted her. ‘It has been many years, has it no’? Do you remember me at all?’
She nodded but said nothing. When Dalton studied her surreptitiously, he noticed how she was gripping her gloved fingers together. She appeared vastly uncomfortable, and he didn’t know what he could do or say to help her.
Lachlan eyed him with a genuine smile, though it held a wariness. ‘I see you’ve
