Page 33 of The Falconer

‘It’s not his title. It’s because he’s . . .’

‘He’s what?’

She looks around, as if to be certain there is no one but my maid in the vicinity to hear us. ‘He’s English.’

I feign shock. ‘My God! Someone call the magistrate immediately. An Englishman in Scotland, you say?’

Catherine laughs. ‘I’m well aware how ridiculous it is, but my mother is adamant that I marry a Scot. She believes the English are heartless and deranged.’

With a snicker, I hop over another patch of mud and nearly slip when I land. Blast. Grass is quite treacherous in winter. After regaining my footing, I ask, ‘Did she mention where she might have garnered this bit of intelligence?’

‘I wish I could tell you. She called Lord Gordon a Sassenach. Can you believe that? It’s the first time I have ever heard her say such a vile word.’

A breeze picks up. The leafless trees shake and the branches groan. A frigid draught knifes right through my thick cloak. I shiver and pull it tighter around my shoulders until the mink-lined collar is snug beneath my chin. My cheeks are already burning from the cold.

‘At least Lord Gordon only needs Gavin’s approval. His return home is more than convenient.’

Catherine brightens. ‘Then Mother can finally focus on finding him a match, instead of expending all of her efforts on me.’

I bite back a laugh, imagining how her brother would respond to that. My goodness, he’d be horrified. ‘Poor Gavin. The dear fellow has no idea what’s in store for him when he arrives.’

She regards me briefly. ‘I remember a time whenyouintended to marry him.’

I make a choking sound at the back of my throat. ‘Really, Catherine. You’re misremembering.’

‘What nonsense! You used to write in your invention sketchbook:Lady Aileana Stewart, Viscountess of Cassilis.’ She smiles slyly. ‘I suppose you’ll have to change that to reflect his new title now, won’t you –Countess of Galloway?’

‘Oh, do be quiet. That was a lapse in judgement,’ I say, waving a hand dismissively. ‘I was young and foolish.’

‘You did it for four years.’

I glare at her. ‘It was a verylonglapse in judgement.’

‘He’s . . . well . . . some women say he’s charming. And he’s rather handsome, I suppose.’ She turns innocent eyes on me. ‘Is there someone else you consider more suitable?’

For no reason I can fathom, I think of Kiaran first. He’s not remotely suitable, and I’m certain he’s never to be trusted. But he is the only man who has ever seen the rage inside me, who accepts and encourages it. I can never forget the overwhelming taste of his power, so wild and strong. If I picture him clearly enough, I can still taste it at the back of my throat, as if he’s actually here.

As if heishere.

My head snaps up and I almost gasp in alarm. There’s Kiaran MacKay, sauntering through the trees towards us, garbed in the fine clothes of a wealthy gentleman. The rough raploch he usually wears has been replaced with finely tailored trousers, a black waistcoat and a frock coat that billows behind him. His dark hair catches the fading sunlight, the sunset glow a blazing halo around him. He looks as tempting as the very devil, and damn him for it.

I’m speechless with shock. This is a betrayal. This goes beyond our unspoken pact for privacy during our daytime lives.

Kiaran simply smiles.

Chapter 12

Itry not to let my distress show as Kiaran approaches. Catherine notices something, though, and glances over at Kiaran . . . She freezes, gaping in shock.

He isn’t even bothering with invisibility, then. I bite my tongue to restrain the vile oath that threatens to slip out. When he said we would finish last night’s conversation, I didn’t think that meant he’d accost me in a public garden.

Kiaran stops next to me and doesn’t bother to acknowledge Catherine or Dona. His amethyst eyes bore into mine, challenging me. Now that I see them in full daylight, I can’t help but notice how piercing they are, how unyielding.

‘I need to speak with you,’ he says.

Catherine and Dona gasp at his presumption. A gentleman never approaches a group of ladies and says something so forward. And Kiaran is already looking at me in a way that betrays far too much familiarity.

My private life is now exposed to him, and here I am. Not a huntress. Not the violent creature who slaughtered two redcaps just last night. A mere lady: fine garments, parasol and all.

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