Page 3 of A Second Chance for Carys
“You’ve found a special friend, I see,” she told him with a smile.
The dog would belong to someone at Sheridan Manor and might even be a distant relative of his. Matthew’s brother, Connor, had probably taken some of his hounds to Castell Esgyrn when he’d come to marry his Welsh bride.
Castell Esgyrn.
She’d always wondered why that name had been chosen. Bones Castle seemed an unlikely, gloomy name for such an elegant castle. More to the point, she was surprised to see that the thought of her old home did not provoke any pangs of nostalgia within her. But after all, as long as she was with Branwen and Eirwen, she could be anywhere. At the village, no one would miss her. She had not even minded leaving Dewi’s grave behind. Her beloved husband would live forever in her heart, that was all that mattered, she didn’t need a piece of stone to remember him by. When she thought of him, it was as a man vibrant with life, not as a skeleton buried underground. She heard his laugh, his declarations of love, his groans of pleasure. Would those memories fade away with time?
She fervently prayed they wouldn’t, because then she would be truly alone.
A voice cut through her musings, and Silver’s friend bounded in the direction of the caller, obviously his master. Carys watched as James Mortimer appeared from behind a cluster of trees. He was dressed in black, just like the day of their arrival,just like every day, in fact. Every time she’d caught a glimpse of him, he’d been the same stark, slightly forbidding figure. She had made sure not to find herself alone with him, something she didn’t do with anyone else. Not only would they be unable to communicate, but she could not deny he impressed her.
Avoiding him now would be impossible, though, so she stayed where she was. Walking away when he had seen her would just appear rude. But what could they tell each other? Nothing. He spoke even less Welsh than she spoke English.
Feeling at a loss, but not wanting to stand there like a fool, she pointed at her dog. “Silver.”
To her relief, James seemed to understand she was introducing him and decided to help her along in her pitiful attempt at conversation.
“Goldie,” he answered, pointing at the other wolfhound in the same way she had.
A gleam appeared in his black eyes. It seemed to her that he found the association of the two names amusing. Why? She would make sure to ask Branwen later what “Goldie” meant.
“It’s very beautiful here,” she tried next, looking at the river flowing down below. This time it was clear James had no idea what she was talking about. He shrugged. In a moment he would walk away, bored by the awkwardness of the exchange, and she could not blame him. He probably had better things to do than talk to a stranger he could not understand.
Carys was wondering what to do when Sliver, who’d been sniffing and nuzzling at his new friend with sudden interest, mounted her with undisguised enthusiasm. There was no need for translation. This time they could both understand what was happening. Carys’ cheeks started to burn.
James arched a brow and she had the feeling he was fighting a smile. She found herself wondering whatshecould do to coaxsuch a reaction out of him. She had rarely seen a more impassive man.
All too soon, Silver let go of his new friend, who Carys now knew to be a female—and possibly pregnant. The two dogs spent a long moment nuzzling at each other. Fascinated, she watched on. There was such tenderness in the caresses that something tugged at her heart. It felt almost human. Suddenly she did miss home, and Dewi, terribly.
“I think we might have a litter of beautiful puppies soon,” she could not help but say out loud.
There was no answer.
James had already left.
Chapter Two
“Forgive me. I didn’t know someone would be here.”
James had gone to the little room at the back of the solar to return the ledgers he’d taken earlier—and found himself face to face with Carys.
She shook her head, indicating she could not answer him, as he’d thought. She would have no idea what he’d said, even if she must have understood he was apologizing for having almost bumped into her.
He scowled, barely refraining a growl. Damn it all, this was impossible. How long would it be until she learned to speak his language? She had been at Sheridan Manor for more than two weeks already and she seemed to have no intention of making it easier for people to communicate with her. It appeared as if she was happy to take long walks in the forest and talk to no one else other than her daughters and her dog when she was in the castle.
Her dog. Silver, the wolfhound. It had been excruciating to stand there and watch as he’d mounted Goldie the other day. Though the two indiscreet lovers had been animals, it had been a disturbingly intimate scene to witness in the company of a woman he desired.
Desired. Yes.
The realization had taken him by surprise, but he desired the Welsh woman like he had not desired a woman since Joanne’s death.
He’d been struck by her allure the moment he had seen her dismount from her weary horse in the bailey. In view of this unexpected reaction, he had intended to spend time with her and get to know her better, see where this unexpected attraction could lead. Unfortunately, he had not counted on the frustration it would create to not be able to have any conversation with her whatsoever. As intriguing as Carys was, at the moment, he got as much satisfaction out of her as he would out of a wooden statue of a woman. A real pity, because he suspected that the Welsh woman would be all fire, exactly what he needed to thaw the ice that had started to encase his heart. He’d seen her joyous with Branwen, mischievous with Eirwen, playful with Silver. She was full of life, unable to hide her feelings.
But with him she was quiet and discreet, and this because they could not exchange more than basic greetings. It was infuriating.
As he was wondering how to take his leave without appearing too rude, the door to the solar, which he’d left open on his way in, closed with a bang.
“Are you sure we can?—”
