Chapter 10
Grey and black clouds fought for dominion in the sky as they ventured out into the garden. But whatever the weather, whatever the season—winter, summer, autumn or spring—the gardens had always been the pride and joy of the estate since Honoria could remember.
They soothed the soul.
She spared a sidelong glance at Lash. It was impossible to miss the subtle lines of his face smoothing the moment fresh air hit his skin. Given he was a Rom, she was not surprised. His people did not live in traditional housing or sleep in conventional beds. It must be intolerable for him to be confined to the castle.
That much they had in common.
Though Honoria still preferred her soft bed and the warmth her home provided.
She bit down on her lip, keenly aware of his proximity. He looked like a man that carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and then lifted that world only to resettle it again a few thousand times more.
But even with his visible strength, he seemed worn and tired.
She found herself wanting to breathe life back into the frayed threads that overshadowed him. What troubles did he carry on those broad shoulders? All these unanswered questions made her feel like her feet were treading over unsteady sand and not on solid ground.
Internally, she sighed at herself.
Her goal was to travel to Edinburgh. That had to come first. Once her goal to learn from the greatest minds in Scotland had been realized, then she could spend her time exploring intriguing, mysterious men with bodies that mimicked the statues of Greek gods.
She must remain focused.
But would a little fantasizing truly hurt?
She tried to shake away the insidious thought, but all that came to mind was Lash’s mouth. In particular, his mouth dancing over hers. His teeth grazing the tender skin of her lips. His powerful arms holding her tightly against his chest.
How would it not feel dancing in those arms? To be whirled and twirled, embracing the raw power of them?
Och, stop it, Honoria!
Impossible. A strange flutter had taken wing in her heart. She did not quite understand it. But it was accompanied by a wave of wooziness and Honoria knew, with bone-deep certainty, this man was intertwined with her fate. He was more than a possible escort—she had never wished for one. She had wished forchange, and he had arrived.
A strong, powerful, and unbelievably tempting change.
“Are you all right?” Lash asked, casting her a concerned glance. “You seem flushed.”
Honoria ducked her head from his probing gaze. “Just a bit preoccupied with thoughts of dancing.”
“Dancing?” He sounded skeptical.
She tilted her head up to the sky. “Aye, it’s a splendid day to dance, do you not agree?”
He drew to a stop and followed her gaze. “It’s about to rain.”
“Dancing in the rain . . . That sounds delightful.” Honoria clapped her hands together. “I have never danced in the rain before.”
“Because it’s dangerous to your health.”
“Which adds to the thrill, I believe.”
He lowered his eyes to scrutinize her. “There is no music.”
“And a campfire, I suppose,” Honoria said, and laughed at the look he sent her. “Have you never danced in the rain before? Being a big, bad Rom?”
“No.”
“Neither music or campfire is required. We can dance right here, this moment if we so choose.”
