Since the alternative was to take her chances against the elements, Fiona followed him into the dwelling. As soon as they entered, he shut the door and released her. Stepping away he went to work on something, she knew not what, until flames sprang to life in the fireplace sitting against the far wall.
The stranger crouched, his back toward her while fanning the flames. Suddenly he stood, and without glancing directly toward her, he brushed his way past. “I’ll be right back.”
Frosty air swirled around Fiona’s legs as the door opened and closed. She glanced toward it, noted the bolt, and realized she could easily bar him entry if she desired.
This awareness eased her fears. He’d rescued her from certain death and had made sure she had a fire by which to warm herself while he saw to his horse. Now he’d placed his trust in her, and in so doing, he’d made her feel more in control.
Stepping forward, she held out her hands and took a deep breath while the warmth of the fire banished the chill in her bones. By the time the door opened and closed once again at her back, she was feeling more herself.
“Thank you,” she said, intent on showing her gratitude.
“Ye’re welcome.”
The softness in his voice caused her to turn and to nearly collapse as her legs turned to jelly. Her lips parted but all she could do was stare. Young and handsome beyond belief with blonde wavy hair falling over his brow, a straight nose, an easy smile that dimpled at one corner, and the most intense blue–eyed gaze she’d ever been subjected to in her life, her knight not only appeared to be forged from iron, but was standing before her dressed in a kilt.
She was staring at him and by all that was holy, he was staring right back. How could he not when she was the loveliest creature he’d ever beheld? And to think she’d surely have perished if he hadn’t happened upon her was an unbearable notion indeed.
Shaking himself free of it, Logan stepped toward the fire so he could warm himself too. And be closer to her. He was pleased when she did not shy away from his presence but rather continued to study him with a mixture of deep curiosity and something else he couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was, it caused his stomach to tighten with deep awareness.
Lord have mercy, but he was to spend the night with her in this one room hunting lodge. Alone. He wasn’t quite sure he’d survive it.
Willing himself to put such thoughts aside, he cleared his throat. “I trust ye were lost?”
“Yes. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you, but when I set out I was sure I’d find my way back.”
“The Highlands are an easy place to lose yerself in if ye’re nae paying close attention.”
“I’ll admit, my mind was elsewhere and all of a sudden…” She blew out a breath and turned more fully toward the fire. “I’m Lady Fiona Brinkley. My family and I are guests at Dunkirk Castle.”
“And I am Logan MacNaughly, the Marquess of Dunkirk’s son.”
Lady Fiona’s gaze snapped onto his, their brown depths as bright as the fire that danced before them. “What…I mean…Your parents said you would join us soon but…”
Logan unclasped his cloak and shook it out. “If you’d please move aside a wee bit?”
She did as requested, allowing him to spread the cloak out on the floor. There was a single chair which he probably ought to suggest she use, but the idea of cozying up together held much greater appeal. Rascal. Unrepentant, he removed his jacket next while she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the hearth.
“Ye need nae adhere to protocol here,” he told her. “Please feel free to remove yer bonnet and pelisse so ye can be comfortable during yer stay. I’ve wine, if ye like. And if ye’re hungry, there’s bread and cheese too.”
“You’re very kind to offer, but I fear I’ve caused enough trouble already without also consuming your supper.”
The edge of his mouth curved in appreciation of her consideration. Without a word, he went to locate a bottle of wine and to pile some food onto a plate. They’d have to share. These lodgings he kept weren’t intended for guests.
Returning to the spot by the fire, he set the plate and bottle down, then took his seat on his cloak in complete opposition to social dictates which said a man must not sit while a lady remained standing. Well, after a long day’s trek, he was not about to adhere to such protocol. Not when he was verily exhausted. Besides, if he tossed such rules out the window, there was a chance Lady Fiona might too, and they could enjoy a relaxing evening together. However unconventional it might be.
So he uncorked the bottle and hid a grin when she huffed a small breath. Daring a glance at her, he noted her pinched expression as she went to work on her bonnet’s ribbon. Clearly the lady was not accustomed to thwarting the stricture to which she was bound. So it pleased him all the more when she set the bonnet aside, removed her gloves, and began taking off her pelisse.
Soon, she sank beside him, her legs swept out to one side under her voluminous skirt. Beneath the hem he spied the tip of one brown leather boot. He pulled the stopper from the bottle and handed it to her so she could drink. She did so without hesitation, the action warming a place deep inside his heart.
“Better?” he asked when she gave the bottle back to him.
She answered with a nod while holding her palms out toward the fire. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t found me.”
“I dinnae ken either.” And had no wish to think of it. He took a swig of wine and pushed the plate of food closer to her in invitation. “If ye’ll forgive me for saying this, wandering off on yer own in the Highlands was mighty foolish. Especially during winter. What on earth possessed ye?”
“Honestly, I needed to get away from my family for a while.” When he said nothing to this, she explained how her sister always seemed to get what she wanted at Lady Fiona’s expense. “I realize I sound ungrateful and petty, but whenever Rose and I are at odds, Mama and Papa always take her side. I used to enjoy piano lessons with an excellent tutor for instance, but ever since Rose declared an interest in improving her own skill at the piano, he has become her tutor instead.”
“Could he not teach you both?”
She snorted and gave her head a quick shake, ruffling the blonde curls that fell against her brow. “His schedule was already full when Mama and Papa inquired. The only chance for Rose to make use of him was for her to take my slot. He does not accept more than one student at a time.”
“I’m sorry.” The manner in which Lady Fiona was always placed second didn’t seem right. “May I ask, how old is your sister?”
“She recently turned sixteen while I am already twenty years old with two unsuccessful Seasons behind me. So I understand the effort to prepare Rose for the success I was meant to enjoy.” Lady Fiona sighed. “My sister is a good person and I love her dearly. I don’t believe she means to take advantage or that she realizes the effect her demands have on me. Rather, I imagine she’s so caught up in the preparations for her debut, she simply doesn’t stop to think about other people. And with Mama and Papa willing to bend to her every whim and to make me do the same, who can blame her?”
“I see yer point, but there’s one thing I cannae comprehend.” He considered the plate where the food he’d laid out remained untouched, then raised his gaze and allowed it to slide along the perfect edge of her jaw. She sat in profile, the glow from the fire illuminating her skin in a way that reminded him of sunshine. “How can a bonnie lass like yerself have two unsuccessful Seasons?”