Passionately Yours (Hellions of High Street 3)

Isobel turned back to Andover and huffed a sigh. “Pay no heed to my brother. He fusses like a mother hen, but the truth is, I am usually hearty as a horse.”

“You look nothing like a hen or a horse, Miss Urquehart.” He winked. “Or a Strasbourg goose.”

“As you see, Andy is always the perfect gentleman,” said Caro.

The casual comment, though clearly said in fun, seemed to make Alec flinch. Looking away with an inward sigh, she wondered whether she would ever understand his odd quirks and moods.

Not that it mattered. There were any number of jests about the incomprehensible workings of the female mind. But as far as she was concerned, the male thought processes were just as inscrutable.

The boat nudged up against the landing dock, putting an end for the moment to further speculation.

The hampers and blankets were gathered up, the ferryman was paid, and the little party set off along the main footpath leading past a parterre of colorful flowers.

“The heroine of Smollett’s novel The Expedition of Humphry Clinker called Bath an earthly paradise,” said Isobel as she paused to catch her breath and admire the lush profusion of plantings. “I can see why. Everything about it has such a tasteful elegance to it, even the natural beauty of its gardens. It is very unlike Scotland, don’t you think, Alec?”

“Scotland is a harder, wilder place,” he answered. “But to my eye, there is great beauty in its rough-cut austerity.”

“I agree,” offered Caro. “There is a softness, a gentleness that is pleasing about our present surroundings. But for me, the Scottish moors have a more transcendent power.”

Alec looked as if he was going to say something, but after a moment or two of hesitation, he simply turned away to continue up the winding path that led to the crest of the knoll.

As she watched him go, Caro could swear the intensity of his gaze was still tingling against her skin. Her cheeks felt oddly warm despite the shade of the trees.

“It’s not much farther, Miss Urquehart,” assured Andover. “And the view of the city is quite spectacular.” Shifting the hamper from one hand to the other, he offered her his arm. “Allow me to assist you.” He cast Caro an apologetic look as he added, “The path is a little uneven up ahead.”

“B-but…” Isobel stammered.

“I’ll go on ahead,” said Caro quickly, “and help Lord Strathcona choose a spot to set out the picnic.”

Alec had already chosen a spot in the sun to spread out the blanket. His expression, however, remained just as unreadable in the bright light. He was a cipher—no a Sphinx! A stone face whose carved features gave absolutely nothing away.

His mood seemed even more reticent than usual, and they unpacked his hamper in near silence. The other two soon joined them, and as they both were in high spirits, the meal passed in pleasant conversation, despite the fact that Alec seemed to withdraw even further into himself. His aunt’s cook had indeed packed a generous repast—roasted fowl, rich cheeses, fresh bread, and the luscious-looking strawberry tart.

Andover let out a blissful sigh as he forked up the last bite of flaky pastry and clotted cream on his plate. “I don’t think I can move a muscle for at least an hour.”

“Mmmm.” Isobel leaned back on her elbows. “I may need a sedan chair to carry me back down to the boat, for I’m now definitely heavier than an overfed goose.”

“Nonsense—you’re light as a feather,” assured Andover. “I can simply tuck you in the hamper, next to the remains of the cheddar.”

She gave a groan at the mention of food.

“Well, I for one, feel the need for a brisk walk,” announced Alec, who had barely touched a morsel of the food on his plate. “There is said to be a very interesting Roman ruin just beyond the glade of oak trees. I think I shall take a closer look.”

Andover waved him on. He had brought a guidebook of the city with him, and he and Isobel were engrossed in trying to identify the buildings across the river.

Too restless to sit still for such amusements, Caro rose a few minutes later and after excusing herself began to wander down one of the side paths. High rhododendron bushes screened her view, and it wasn’t until she came to the top of a wooded hill that she realized the twisting turns had brought her to the remains of the ancient observation tower.

Alec turned from his study of the stonework.

“Sorry,” she said, not wanting him to think she had deliberately followed him. “I did not know the other path also led to this spot. I didn’t mean to intrude on your solitude.”

He shrugged. “You are welcome to have a look. The details of the carving are quite nice. Perhaps not nice enough to inspire an ode, but enjoyable, nonetheless.”

“You,” she muttered, accepting the invitation to approach, “are in a very strange mood.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. Very.” They were now standing side by side, their shoulders almost touching. “One would almost think you were going out of your way to avoid speaking to me.”