The cat looked at her with narrowed yellow eyes.
“You’re very handsome,” she said. “What are you doing out here?”
The cat said nothing, which was answer enough.
“Sulking, then.” She tilted her head and gave the cat a dubious stare. “Can you not rejoice in this glorious day and appreciate all this beauty?” She gestured broadly to the trees, shrubs, and flowers. When her eyes caught on a patch of witch hazel, her smile broadened. Even though she had not seen Laird MacRaeh himself, when her supper tray had arrived in her room late yesternight, there had been a bouquet, as well as a note from the Laird, explaining that he had noticed the flowers, thought of her, and wished for her to have some sprigs in her room.
The cat stood, stretched with elaborate indifference, and dropped off the back of the roof without a backward glance.
Isobel watched the space where it had been, then shrugged as well and loped away.
She continued walking, passing a half-open gate in the inner wall and nearly missing it. She halted and looked through. Thepassage stretched long and straight before curving out of sight, with stones on both sides darkened by age and moss at the base where moisture gathered. Above, the gap between the walls was narrow, revealing only a pale strip of sky. Midway, a crack ran up one of the upper stones, and moss had firmly taken hold, filling the gap.
Where does this lead?
Isobel trailed her fingers along the wall idly as she traipsed through the gardens, then emerged into a field. Tall grasses suddenly surrounded her, and she peered back over her shoulder.
The gardens just…fell away. The finely sculpted beauty simply gave way to this…
While the Castle gardens were sculpted and manicured to accentuate the delicate blooms and topiaries, the lands in front of her made something in her memory flicker.
These are the Highlands. This place is wild…free…and full of adventure.
She flung her arms wide and spun in a circle. The movement felt so good she repeated it until a wave of dizziness forced her to stop. As her feet ground to a halt, she giggled, then glanced about to make sure that she was quite alone.
And that’s when her eyes locked on his.
“Laird MacRaeh!” Her voice was little more than a squeak.
“Daenae stop on my account.” His lips twitched upward into a sly grin. “Ye looked rather content, me Lady.”
“I am content,” she replied. Her heart skipped frantically in her chest. She did not know if that was a result of seeing him again or if it was due to the fact that he had caught her behaving like a silly girl.
He stepped closer to her. “Me granny said I might find ye in the garden today, since the weather is so nice this morning.”
“Lady Branwen knows me well already.” She bent to brush her fingertips over the long blades of grass. They were brittle and in some places the green gave way to dry yellow, but Isobel liked the texture, so she did not mind a little toughness. “I could not resist going for a walk this morning.”
“May I join you?” His eyes bored into hers and Isobel could see something like hope floating through those grey orbs.
“Certainly.” She waited for him to step nearer, then, once they were parallel with one another, she let go of her hold on the tall grass and began to sashay through the meadow.
“I meant to come see ye yesterday,” Laird MacRaeh said softly. “I hope ye werenae disappointed when I failed to come to yer chambers.”
Isobel smiled at him. “You sent flowers. And I appreciated that gesture.”
His forehead scrunched slightly. “Ye liked the witch hazel, then?”
“Very much,” she assured him.
He exhaled quickly, as if he were relieved then muttered something which sounded an awful lot like, “I must remember to tell Hamish that he was wrong.”
“What was that?” she questioned, not wanting to miss a single syllable he uttered, but the Laird merely shook his head, then motioned for them to turn left and head further away from the castle.
“Lady Branwen mentioned, when I saw her yesterday, that she thinks we might’ve known each other in our youth.”
“Ah…” Isobel hummed. “That explains the nature of her questions.”
“She did not press ye relentlessly?”