Page 26 of The Highlander and The Lady of Misrule

“Yes. She may be a queen with her father’s heart, but she’s human and mortal. King Henry acted the same way. Only perfectly formed people were allowed around him.”

Lucy blinked against a curl that had found its way into the corner of her eye, and Greer reached up to brush it away. His finger lingered, gently sliding along her skin to her golden hair. He couldn’t help but remember the sight of her bare shoulders and arms behind the changing screen.

They stared at one another. “I think ye are perfectly formed, Lucy Cranfield.”

Her lips had opened, and the whisper of shallow breath was the slightest sound in the quiet house. Greer slowly lowered his hand but didn’t back up. Neither did Lucy. It was as if a lodestone nestled in each of their middles, pulling them together, opposites that nature would fit perfectly in place. His hands raised to rest lightly on her shoulders. She stepped the smallest amount closer.

Golden curls half tumbled down around her shoulders with her courtly hood gone, and her soft lips turned up slightly as if smiling was her normal state of being. She looked like an angel. If one considered what she did for animals and children, she didn’t merely masquerade as an angel, she was one.

He leaned the slightest bit closer to her face, feeling her shift toward him.

A gasp came from the doorway of the kitchen. “Release her, you scoundrel!”

*

Lucy spun awayfrom Greer to the pinched face of her sister. “Cordy? What are you doing here?”

“The better question is, what are you, and you, doing here?” she answered, glaring at Greer.

Lucy felt her cheeks heat into a full, fiery blush. “I brought the children a Christmas dinner. Greer accompanied me so I wouldn’t be walking the London streets alone.” Lucy frowned. “Are you alone?”

William Darby walked in the back door. “The children and a menagerie are in the back—” For a long moment they all stared at one another in the kitchen.

Lucy cleared her throat. “Greer helped me bring some Christmas dinner to Simmons and the three children, whom I’m allowing to stay in my room. We were just cleaning up from it,” she said, yanking her gloves back on. “Simmons has the day off after Christmas of course.”

Greer looked between Cordelia and William. “Why are the two of ye here?”

Cordelia’s mouth opened, shut, and then opened as her glare returned. “I live here.” Her hands plopped on her hips. “And why are the two of you embracing?”

“Embracing?” William asked, stepping forward.

Holy Mother Mary. Lucy jumped before Greer. “We weren’t embracing. He was helping me clean up from the feast.” She looked at Cordelia. “For God’s sake, be kind and gentle. ’Tis Christmas.”

But Cordelia ignored her, her piercing gaze on Greer. “I thought we had an understanding.”

Lucy’s brow pinched. “Understanding?” She turned to Greer.

Greer didn’t take his gaze off William as if he was the bigger threat of the two. “Your sister worries ye will fall in love with a Highlander, one who will whisk ye away from your riches in London.”

Lucy’s face snapped back to Cordelia. “You told him that?” Her blush was surely burning away the skin of her face. She’d have nothing more than a bare skull by the time her embarrassment ebbed.

Cordelia didn’t say anything, and Lucy looked back to Greer. “Do you think I’m in such jeopardy?”

Greer’s face was serious but gave nothing of his thoughts away. “I believe you thrive on peril, Lady Lucy, but I have done nothing to lure ye away from your life at Whitehall.”

“I thrive on peril?” she repeated, her frown tossing between Greer and Cordelia. “Well, I have no time nor intention to fall in love. So, sister, your worry is unfounded.” She strode around William and out the door into the back yard.

Lucy sucked in a large breath of icy air, the coolness a balm for her cheeks. When had Greer and Cordy even been talking? About her? Without her being present?

The roosters strutted about, squawking and pecking at the pups when they got too close. The sound of hammer striking wood came from the coop where the children worked inside.

The back door opened behind her, but she didn’t turn. From the heaviness of the footfalls, it was a man. But she didn’t hear the slight jingle of cabinet keys that William carried. So t’was Greer. She rubbed her arms against the cold.

The heaviness of a cloak settled on her shoulders. “I felt it prudent for me to leave the house,” Greer said. “Without ye in there, I was much more likely to punch Darby.”

Lucy snorted softly. “He’s a good friend.”

“Who I am certain wants to be more than a friend with ye.”

---