Page 53 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
“Why? Do you pity me?" he mocked.
“I was worried about you! Why do you not understand that?”
“Well, I have told you there’s nothing to worry about.”
She snorted. “And I’m just supposed to believe that? While you are here grooming horses instead of socializing?”
“I want to socialize with those people just about as much as they want to socialize with me. I think we are both much happier where we are.”
“Then I will stay with you.”
“I think you’d be much happier where they are too.”
“What makes you think that?”
He sneered, looking away, “You are going to make me repeat it, are you?”
“I have told you, I feel no disgust at your face or your scars. To me, they are just symbols of everything that you have been through and survived. They are symbols of your strength.”
“You do not need to placate me, Lady Freya. No go off and play with your friends.”
“I am not placating you. I do not know what it is you want me to say so that you willbelieveme.”
Eric just looked at her, his eyes full of skepticism.
“Do you know what you remind me of?” Freya asked.
He cocked an eyebrow in inquiry.
“You remind me of milk thistle. A prickly plant, not very pretty to look at but terribly useful.”
He barked with surprised laughter. “I have never had myself described so.”
She shrugged. “Well, it is true.”
One of the horses made a sound, and he turned away from her to look at it. Then he disappeared back into the dark, and she could hear him talking soothingly to the horse.
“What if we just rode away? Take the horses for a canter around the countryside?” she asked.
“Can we really do that?”
“Why not? It is not as if anyone will notice. There are too many people coming and going.”
“Hmm…” There was a small silence, and then he appeared at the doorway again, leading a horse. “Your ride, my lady,” he said with a bow.
Freya laughed. “Let us go then,” she said as she let Eric boost her up on to the horse. Arranging her skirts, she took hold of the bridle, holding the horse steady as Eric climbed on behind her. His arms went around her waist, and he took the bridle from her hands.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his breath ghosting against her neck.
She nodded shakily. “Let’s go.”
ChapterTwenty-One
The storm came upon them rather suddenly as they were enjoying the horse ride. All Eric knew was that they were about two hills away from the castle. There was no way they could ride back there in the midst of a deluge, especially on hilly ground. That was asking for a nasty accident to happen. He looked around from the horse’s back, trying to find somewhere they might shelter.
Freya leaned in to speak to him. “You remember we passed a crofter’s cottage about fifteen minutes ago?”
Eric did indeed remember the cottage. It had seemed to be abandoned with half the roof falling in. He looked around one last time in desperation, trying to see if there was a better shelter insight. All he could see were verdant rolling hills.
