To Tempt a Scotsman (Somerhart 1)

Jeannie tugged on her arm, stuck out her tongue when he released it. "Fine, deny it. And as long as you don't love her, I suppose it doesn't matter in the least."

"It does not."

"Perfect. May I have her direction?"

"What? Why?"

"I wish to write her."

His gray eyes bore into her, studying her wide-eyed gaze. "I think not."

"All right. I shall get it somewhere else then." Turning away to flounce off, she heard his deep, weary sigh and smiled.

"She's at Somerhart in Yorkshire. Please do not try to match-make."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Lord Westmore. Honest." Fin­gers crossed, she bounced back into the party with not an ounce of pity for her favorite neighbor.

Chapter 9

Four hours. Four hours more and she'd be at her cottage, and surely Collin would arrive soon after. Alex shifted on the seat, already crawling with restlessness after just the first hour in the carriage.

"I think I'll ride for a bit." She reached up to tap the roof.

Danielle waved sleepily. "Do not tire yourself out, Mademoiselle."

Alex let the driver hand her out and waited as he untied Brinn. As she mounted and settled into the saddle, her eyes swept the rolling countryside. This was so much better than sitting inside the shadowed carriage. She could dis­tract herself out here, or at least feel the fresh air while she obsessed over Collin.

The carriage rolled on and, as Alex turned to follow, she spied movement at the crest of the hill they'd just de­scended. A rider, moving in their direction. Whoever he was, he was too far away to see, but the notion struck her that it could be Collin. Her heart quickened that he might be so near, but it was a ridiculous notion, surely. Just her overactive imagination. Alex forced her thoughts back to tonight and what they would do.

If he made it by tonight. She couldn't bear the thought of spending her first night in the cottage without him, but he was coming from far away, and there were so many ways to be delayed. Still, she had the hope that if she wished hard enough, the man would appear just when she wanted him to.

A half hour later they rounded a long curve, and Alex caught site of the lone rider through the trees. He seemed slightly closer, but she couldn't quite make him out past the leaves.

Perhaps it was Collin. It would be just like the man to arrive early and follow her carriage to be sure of her safety. She slowed her horse a little and let the carriage roll ahead. If it was him—oh, let it be—she planned to give him every opportunity to approach.

The distance between her and the carriage grew to forty feet, then eighty. Hoofbeats thumped faintly from behind and drew a smile to her lips even as she wondered if she looked road-worn and dusty.

She drew the cuff of her jacket over her brow, then rubbed it across her mouth before she glanced back .. . and caught the unexpected glint of sunshine off bright blond hair. Not him, her brain squeaked. Not Collin. Five hard heartbeats passed. She made herself look again.

The rider was close enough now that Alex could see the line of a hard-set, narrow jaw that shocked in its familiar­ity. By the time the man raised a hand in an elegant wave, Alex was sure who had followed her from Somerhart. Damien. Damien St. Claire. Here, in England.

Oh, God. She twisted in the saddle, taking in her sur­roundings as quickly as possible. Brinn danced sideways and snorted her displeasure, but Alex ignored it.

There was no one about. No one. Not even a rise of smoke in the distance. They were alone, she and her maid and the driver. Will carried a pistol, she knew that, but she also knew that Damien was desperate and on the run and probably armed to the teeth. And if Will drew him down . . . Well, Damien had already proved himself an accurate shot. Alex couldn't let that happen.

She pulled her mare to a stop. I'm sure he knows, Collin had said. Damien must know that she'd passed his location on to Collin. He must know and he must want his revenge. Alex took a deep breath and wheeled Brinn around to face him.

From twenty yards away, she watched his mouth spring from a snarl to a smile. His brown eyes stayed blank.

"Damien!" she called, because he would expect it. He barreled toward her and yanked his mount to a stop not a foot from Brinn's nose.

"My dear Lady Alexandra!" His words held more than a hint of ice, but Alex pretended not to notice.

"Damien, I can't believe it's really you! I thought my eyes had tricked me. Whatever are you doing here? Has everything . . . ?"

The carriage wheels quieted on the road ahead. She looked to see her driver standing atop his post. He nodded when she stretched up her hand, and Damien's smile was slightly more genuine when she met his eyes.

She tried her best to look relieved. "Has everything worked out then?"