Page 155 of The Highlander's English Bride

“But you’ve not had any lunch,” Sabrina called after him.

“That’s all right,” Ainsley said, reaching for a dish. “More for us.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sabrina had been forced to sneak out of her own house, thanks to Graeme. Sensible precautions were one thing, but he’d fully departed the realm of sensible some time ago. Yet again he’d ordered her not to step foot outside.

After the gentlemen had left on another search of manor lands, Sabrina had gone to the stables and saddled up a mare. Unfortunately, bringing a groom along was not an option, since Bobby had also ridden out with Graeme and Royal.

She made a mental note to hire another groom as soon as possible.

Slowing the mare to a walk, Sabrina passed through the gates and turned onto the main road to the hamlet. From this vantage point, she had a splendid view of the dramatic landscape of rolling glen, with glimmers of a loch in the distance and craggy peaks beyond them. Less than a mile away was Dunlaggan, the picturesque hamlet so closely tied to the estate.

As she gazed out over the beautiful vista, her throat went unexpectedly tight. Sabrina had always taken a great deal of satisfaction in running her father’s households, but this was something entirely different. She felt a newfound sense of pride in Lochnagar, her mother’s birthplace and the ancestral home of her clan. Deep in her bones, there was a sense of belonging she’d never before experienced.

Lochnagar had fallen asleep these many years, like a princess in a fairy tale. But now, the lovely old girl was awakening from her slumber. And Sabrina couldn’t walk away, no matter the trouble or potential for danger.

She urged the placid mare into a canter and soon reached the outskirts of the hamlet. There, she encountered only a lad with an adorably gap-toothed grin leading a cow to a paddock.

Dunlaggan’s simple stone cottages were neatly maintained, with scrubbed stoops, painted shutters, flower-filled window boxes, and even the occasional door sporting a bright blue or red. For all the troubles plaguing the estate, the hamlet’s residents clearly had a great deal of pride.

But the local folk seemed exceedingly wary. As she passed, matrons scurried inside before she could say hello, and two elderly gentlemen on a bench in front of the pub subjected her to a narrow inspection. They barely bobbed their heads when she smiled and gave them a cheery wave.

Sabrina could only hope her potential source of information proved to be friendlier.

She halted in front of a gray-stone manse, the largest house in the hamlet. It was tucked in a pretty pocket garden beside the village kirk. Casting a quick glance around to ensure her privacy, she gathered up her skirts and swung off in an awkward dismount. The mare snorted and eyed her with a degree of disdain but didn’t balk.

“You’re an old dear with excellent manners.” She rubbed the horse’s ear before looping the reins around a convenient hitching post.

Pushing through the knee-high gate, she walked to the front door and rapped the knocker. When there was no answer, she rapped again. Again, there was silence, but for the buzzing of bees and the rustle of leaves in the gentle afternoon breeze. Two mullioned windows opened out over the garden, so she hoped someone was home.

She was about to rap a third time when a quick footstep sounded from inside. The door swung open to reveal a young man in shirtsleeves and a neat leather vest, with sleeve protectors tied around his forearms. He held a pen and rather owlishly blinked at her, as if his thoughts were far away and she was something of a surprise.

Then his expression cleared, and he flashed a charming smile. “My dear ma’am, please forgive me. My housekeeper has stepped out for a moment. Have you been waiting long?”

His gaze was so warm and his expression so friendly that Sabrina couldn’t help but smile back. “Just a moment or two. I’m sorry to disturb you.”

He opened the door wide. “No, indeed, Lady Sabrina.” He flashed a grin. “We have very few visitors to Dunlaggan, and certainly none that look like you.”

When he then flushed, his smile turning into an expression of comic dismay, she chuckled as she stepped inside.

“And I take it you are Reverend Brown.”

“I am, my lady. Please forgive my impertinence. My housekeeper, Mrs. Adair, has described you in detail, as have some of the villagers.” His smile returned. “I only returned to Dunlaggan yesterday, and I’ve heard talk of nothing else. Everyone is quite excited.”

She paused in the low-ceilinged hall as he shut the door. “I’m not quite sureexciteddescribes my reception.”

He cast her a quick glance before gesturing down the hall. “Won’t you join me in the back parlor? It’s quite the nicest room in the house and not nearly as cluttered as my study. Mrs. Adair would have a fit if I allowed a visitor into my study in its current state.”

“We certainly cannot upset Mrs. Adair.”

He again flashed his very attractive smile. “A good housekeeper is a treasure, as I’m sure you know.”

They entered a neatly furnished room with a comfortable mix of floral fabric wing chairs, round tables holding books and vases of mums, and a faded settee in red velvet. Sabrina perched on the settee while Mr. Brown took one of the wing chairs.

The vicar was a tall man with an athletic frame. With his strong features, friendly smile, and glossy dark hair, he was attractive, though not as brawny and handsome as Graeme, of course. Few men were. Still, Mr. Brown had an engaging smile and an open countenance that immediately put her at ease.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” he asked. “You’ve caught me a bit off guard, but I’m sure I could rustle something up.”

---