Page 57 of The Texan Duke
“You liked Daniel, didn’t you?” she asked, once they were back on their horses. “I suspect it’s because he didn’t call you Your Grace once.”
“You’re right about that.”
“Did you mean what you said?” she asked. “Are you really interested in taking the dogs back to Texas?”
“I am. We have cattle dogs, but my father used to talk about Scottish collies. Maybe they could learn to work Longhorns.”
It was a comforting thought that a little bit of Scotland would return to Texas. Before she could tell him that, he spoke again.
“My father never spoke about Bealadair. I think, now, that it’s because he wanted to avoid thinking about Scotland. I’m surprised that he spoke Gaelic.”
“Or it could have been because he couldn’t bear it,” she said softly. “Sometimes, those things we miss the most are the least spoken of.”
He looked at her. “Is there something you miss, Elsbeth?”
She considered the question. “Perhaps my parents, but my memories of them have faded over the years. I miss Gavin.” She missed the security his presence had given her, a fact she’d never considered until his death.
She had the feeling that if she had told Connor what she felt, he would have understood. She really needed to find something terrible about him, some flaw in his character that would shock or repulse her. Some trait he possessed that would make him irredeemable in her eyes.
He loved dogs—that had been plain to see. He was patient—look how kind he’d been to Mr. Stuyvesant. He was intelligent. He’d obviously loved his father, and there was a fond look in his eyes when he spoke about his mother and sisters. He’d even seemed interested in her tasks and wanted to ensure she drew a salary. Not once had he acted like Felix, who occasionally ridiculed what she did but never stepped up to do it.
No, the man was dangerously intriguing. Not to mention attractive, a fact that made her feel silly and too young to be alone with him. What nonsense. She was Elsbeth Carew and she’d been schooled in propriety, had she not?
At least she should stop looking at him so often. Granted, his profile was strong, perhaps almost perfect. He had the McCraight nose, but it fit his face. His jawline was firm.
At first his hat had seemed odd to her, but now she was more accustomed to it. It looked right, just like the coat turned up at the collar.
He smiled, an expression she’d seen a thousand times on many different faces. Why, then, did it stop her heart? She looked away quickly, feeling her cheeks warm.
It wasn’t her fault that he was so handsome. Or that he fascinated her. Any woman would be stirred. Mrs. Ferguson had blushed when speaking of him. Look how Mary McCraight had behaved around him, all fluttery and girlie.
“You must miss your family,” she said.
“Yes.”
Just that one word and nothing more. No information about a sweetheart or an impending marriage.
“I’ve often wondered what it would be like to have a family,” she said. “A real family. Not a borrowed one.”
“Do you have no one else?” he asked.
“A great-aunt,” she said. “I understand she’s up in years, though.” She’d never met the woman. If her great-aunt had ever inquired about her, Elsbeth didn’t know about it.
“I might have other relatives, but Gavin was never able to find them. My father was an only child. As to my mother, I don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known it would bring such a look to your face,” he said.
Startled, she glanced at him. “Then I should apologize,” she said. “You said nothing wrong.”
“Where are you going to go, Elsbeth? When Bealadair is sold, what will you do?”
“Find a cottage,” she said. “Maybe in Glasgow. Mrs. Ferguson has a sister there and it would be nice to have a friend nearby. Or maybe just in Inverness. Or Edinburgh. I’ve never seen the castle or the other sights of the city. I should like to, very much.”
She smiled brightly at him. “You mustn’t worry about me, Connor. I’m quite fortunate, all in all. Now let’s talk about less dour things, shall we? Let me tell you about Castle McCraight.”
She began to slow, wanting to tell Connor the story of the castle before he actually saw it.
“They say that the original McCraight came from Ireland, although Gavin did everything in his power to research and debunk that rumor. Wherever they came from, the very first of your ancestors decided to settle here, on a bluff overlooking Dornoch Firth. It leads out to the North Sea, which is why Gavin thought the first McCraights were Norse.”
