Evie started. “I don’t really know,” she managed.
“Of course you know,” the duchess said. “If you search inside yourself, you’ll know. I am not trying to push you, dear. But I speak from experience—it is much better to get these things cleared up right away, so you can commence being happy without struggle and strain. Jamie adores you. I can tell.”
Evie did not believe her face had ever been hotter.
The one image that took hold of her brain was how Jamie’s eyes had darkened to deep blue, like a bottomless lake, as he’d released while she’d stroked him. She still felt the shape and firmness of his cock in her hand, his smooth, warm skin, the hot excitement that tightened in her belly.
Eleanor’s skewering gaze made Evie warmer still, and she groped for an answer. “I have not had much time to consider,” she stammered.
Eleanor’s tone held sympathy. “No, I imagine you haven’t. When the Mackenzie men fix on you, you don’t know where you are, and you realize there is no escape. But it doesn’t really matter, because you don’t truly want to escape. And even when you do run, you realize they have become a part of you that you can never lose again. Then there you are at the altar, with a bishop pronouncing you man and wife. It is quite unnerving, but worth every moment, I assure you.”
“Auntie El.” Jamie’s voice cut over her last words. “Please cease terrifying my guest.”
Eleanor turned to Jamie without worry. “I? Terrifying? No, my nephew, what is terrifying is being surrounded by this family and not understanding what you’ve got yourself into. But surrender, dear.” Eleanor gently touched Evie’s cheek. “Enjoy every second.”
She beamed at them both and floated back to the crowd, the sun glowing on her golden red hair.
“My apologies for not rescuing you sooner.” Jamie stood a breath from her, as though it was most natural to do so. “Aunt Eleanor can be daunting.”
“She is only looking out for you.” Evie watched Eleanor slide her arm around Ainsley’s waist and give her sister-in-law a kiss on the cheek.
“I can look after myself, thank you.” Jamie surveyed the full box with a pained expression. “Maybe it was a mistake to bring you here with the entire family. They’re intimidating, en masse.” He grimaced. “Huh, they’re intimidating one at a time. Why do you think I spend so much time rushing about the world?”
“I like them.” Evie tried not to think of how close she’d snuggled to Jamie in the train, how she’d enjoyed smoothing her hand over the back of his kilt. Jamie Mackenzie, all to herself, hers to touch, to kiss … “They remind me of my family, only there is much more of them, of course.”
“You are very brave.” Jamie’s expression was solemn. “Admirably so.”
“And you are teasing. Your family is perfectly fine. Very close. Loving.”
“Too close. They knew every detail about you before you arrived at the train, including how we met and how much time we’ve spent together. And I have told them very, very little.”
“You are Lord Ian’s oldest son. Naturally, they are worried about whatever young lady latches on to you.” Evie surveyed the chattering, laughing, red- and golden-haired family, with dark Beth and her daughters contrasting them. “Perhaps they think I am after the family silver.”
Jamie broke into his rumbling laugh. “You keep reminding me why I’m in love with you. But we’ll never have a second to ourselves in Newmarket. Tomorrow, you and I are sliding away for a bit of peace, alone. I know just the place to take you.”
“Do you?” Evie asked, trying to keep her heart quiet at his easy declarations of love. “I lived at Cambridge for three years, but I admit, I know little about this part of the county. I never went far from my college, except for rowing meets.”
“I’ve been coming to Newmarket since I was born. Uncle Cam trains here when he’s not in Berkshire. I’ll show you wonders. Tomorrow.” Jamie sent her a pointed look as Alec, Mal, and Mac’s daughter, Eileen, descended upon them.
Evie nodded at him and then turned to be encompassed in another group of Mackenzies.
After the next morning’s races, Jamie made good on his word and walked Evie from the track and out to a hired coach.
Evie had let herself be talked into a small flutter, and following Jamie’s advice, had actually won five pounds. She felt quite rich. Lord Cameron never wagered on his own horses, Jamie said, knowing he had an unfair advantage, but Evie was welcome to.
It was a lovely May morning, the countryside green and inviting, few clouds marring the very blue sky. When England had fair weather, the days could indeed be delicious.
The driver stopped the coach in a country lane far to the north and west of Newmarket, empty fields stretching in all directions.
“Where are we?” Evie asked in puzzlement when Jamie handed her down.
Jamie waved at the driver, who touched his hat and clattered the carriage away, leaving Evie with Jamie in the middle of nowhere.
“Cambridgeshire,” Jamie said. “Come along.”
“Yes, I realize it is Cambridgeshire, Mackenzie.” Evie tramped after Jamie, who’d started along a narrow path that led through a meadow. She was thankful she’d worn good, stout shoes. “Perhaps you could be more specific?”
“Careful, it’s a little marshy here,” Jamie called back to her. “What is Cambridgeshire named for? The bridge across the River Cam. The town that sprang up around it has been known since the very olden days as Cambridge. That ancient river is our destination.”
So narrating, Jamie led her onward. Evie smelled the damp of the river before it suddenly spread before them, meandering lazily between its green banks.
They must be downriver from Cambridge itself—the river flowed north. In this lonely stretch was a small pier, and at the end of this pier a flat, narrow boat bobbed in the current.
“Is that a scull?” Evie gathered her skirts and hastened onto the pier, her heart beating faster in excitement. Long and gleaming, the scull beckoned, two pairs of oars lashed and stowed inside it. “There’s no one in sight. Who would leave it here?”
“I would.” Jamie was grinning when he turned to her. “It’s yours, McKnight. Just be careful when you’re flinging the oars about.”
Evie stared at him, dumbfounded. “You are giving me a racing scull?”
Jamie shrugged, turning away so she could not see what was in his eyes. “Why not?”
At one time Evie’s greatest joy had been flying across the water, rowing like mad with her best friends, wind in her hair, spray on her skin. She’d sorrowfully given up the sport when she’d finished at Girton, knowing she’d have to settle down and be a grownup lady. No more time for exciting things like rowing.
She clasped her hands, her smile growing so wide it hurt. “Good heavens, Jamie. I’ll never remember how to row it. I’ll be in the drink.”
“I wager you won’t.” Jamie joined her at the end of the pier. “Go on. Get in.”
“It’s a double scull,” she pointed out. “It needs two rowers.”
Jamie gave her a casual nod as though wondering why she mentioned it. “I thought maybe you could teach me.”