Rumors Among the Heather (7 page)

Julie’s face turn red
and then paled. She clenched her fists as she turned on him. “If
you weren’t so interested in accosting ladies, it would have been
perfectly clear to you or any other dimwit that I was in complete
control, and both horse and rider were enjoying themselves,” she
ground out.

“I most certainly did
not
accost
you. I thought I was saving your wretched neck.
And for your information, a lady would never race her horse.”

“You, my lord, are
hardly a judge of what a lady should or should not do,” she snapped
hotly.

“And just what is that
supposed to mean?” he snapped back.

Their argument ended
when Jarvis returned with Crusader. “By your leave, your lordship,
I’ll continue on my way, unless you want me to walk back,” Julie
said sarcastically.

“Of course. I wouldn’t
dream of interfering with a lady. Jarvis, give her a boot up,” he
said through clenched teeth.

Jarvis hesitated and
looked from one to the other. He did as Matthew ordered and gave
her a boot up on Crusader, and both stepped back and watched the
two take off. It was neither a polite nor a genteel departure, but
one more expected from a jockey who means to win a race. She left
both men coughing from her dust and was out of sight before either
could comment.

“Did you ever see
anybody ride like that? It was almost as if she were a part of the
horse,” Matthew mused with a grin.

“I never did, your
lordship, and that’s a fact. I never saw that horse of yours give
its all, neither. It’s a pity she’s a woman, for she would have
made a first-rate jockey at Epsom,” Jarvis said appreciatively.

* * *

Farther down the trail
Julie had time to cool off somewhat. She turned her horse around
and returned to the stables, where she found Matthew waiting for
her. Julie pulled her horse up close to where he stood.

Still angry, she said,
“You couldn’t wait to dismiss me, I suppose. Well, go ahead and get
it over with.”

“Are you always so
hot-headed, Miss Hastings?”

“I’ve been mauled,
dragged off my horse, and deceived all in a short space of time.
You tell me, how should I feel?” She glared back at him.

“I should relieve you
of your position here and now. Lord knows it’s tempting. It’s not
often I am accused of being an abductor of ladies. However, no, I
won’t, not for the moment. I have just returned, and I have not had
a chance to check over my nephew’s progress. What I am going to do
is apologize to you. I find myself in the awkward position of being
wrong. I wish to offer my apologies, if you will be so kind as to
accept them,” he said, bowing his head slightly.

Matthew’s mind
suddenly went blank. All he could think of was the feel of her
silky hair going through his fingers and the touch of her skin. He
helped her dismount from Crusader and continued to hold her waist,
no bigger than his hands’ span, several moments longer than he
should have, before he released her. Her hands were cool and soft
where she placed them on his shoulders as he helped her down. He
imagined for just a moment what they might feel like stroking his
brow or touching him with love.

He smiled at Julie,
and that smile turned his cold blue eyes into warm summer skies.
Julie could only look at him. This was the last thing she expected.
An uneasy truce formed between them. Julie tried hard to remember
her manners.

“I’m afraid it’s I who
owe you an apology, my lord. You scared me, and I took my anger
from earlier in the day out on you. Please accept my apology.”

Julie felt an
uncomfortable flutter of her heart, and wasn’t quite sure she
trusted or liked this new side of Matthew. Surely his humbled
attitude was a practiced art, and she felt out of her league.
Conversing with country lads was one thing, but a sophisticated
gentleman of the world was something else entirely. Trying to
ignore his presence, she fell into step by his side and walked
quietly back to the castle.

“Wake up, Miss
Hastings. Hurry!” Ian called to a sleepy Julie. “We don’t have much
time!” He shook her until she opened her eyes.

Julie tried to rub the
sleep from her eyes as she sat up in bed. “Are you all right, Ian?
What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. You
promised to go, don’t you remember?” Ian asked patiently, as if to
a child.

“Go where?” Julie
yawned and tried to focus on the eager face before her.

“To Leddie’s Crag…for
the sunrise! Don’t you remember?” he said with so much
disappointment in his voice that Julie hastened to reassure
him.

“Of course I
remember.” Julie stifled another yawn. “I stayed up too late
reading last night. I’ll put the kettle on to boil, and get
dressed. We’ll get there in time. Now scoot!”

By the time Julie
dressed and hurriedly ran a comb through her hair and tied it
loosely with a ribbon, the water had boiled, the tea steeped, and
she put it in a flask. Ian quickly took Julie by the hand and all
but pulled her down the back stairs and out into the cold, damp
dawning. They followed the path to Leddie’s Crag and arrived before
the sun rose. “It’s almost time. I’ll pour us some tea. What else
have you brought, Ian?”

“I know where Mrs.
Walker keeps her leftover tarts, and I took some,” he said guiltily
but with just a hint of defiance. “Besides, everyone knows you
can’t have a proper tea without tarts,” he added, looking sideways
at Julie.

She could see his
stubborn streak written so plainly across his face. She laughed and
poured the tea. It was something she might have done herself. Ian
produced three butter tarts and three strawberry tarts.

“Ian, have you ever
heard a sunrise?”

“Heard a sunrise? Miss
Hastings, everyone knows sunrises aren’t noisy.”

“Would you like to
hear one?” Ian nodded his head eagerly. Julie continued, “What do
you hear now?”

“Nothing. It’s very
quiet. Not even the tweet of a bird,” Ian said in a whisper.

“That’s right.
Everything is asleep. Now, close your eyes and listen. I’ll tell
you when to open them.”

* * *

Matthew, who had been
privy to the early morning departure of his nephew and governess,
followed them to Leddie’s Crag. Now he listened to the sound of
Julie’s voice, and he closed his eyes also. He heard the sunrise,
and without too much imagination, he saw Julie silhouetted against
the crimson sky with her hair loose and cascading around her
shoulders as she was today. He smiled and continued to listen. Soon
birds began to chirp, and the world woke up full of activity.

“Open your eyes now.
Did you hear it?” Julie asked Ian.

“Yes, yes, I did!” Ian
said with growing excitement in his voice. “I could not hear a
sound and then everything came to life. The noise started as the
sun came up. Is that what you meant?”

Matthew continued to
watch as Julie nodded her head and stared out to sea at the
beautiful sunrise. She breathed in and let it out with a sigh.
Layers of clouds rolled over the sky, and the scarlet rays of the
sun quickly turned them and everything around from pink to
vermilion.

“Do you often watch
the sunrise, Ian?”

“Lots of times!
Sometimes I can’t sleep so I get up and watch the sun come up. I
get a good view from my bedroom window. I like the early morning
time best of all. What a magnificent sunrise! Don’t you think so,
Miss Hastings?” Ian asked with a smile. The smile brightened his
little face. He smiled so seldom; it cheered Matthew to see him
happy.

“Yes, Ian, it might
just be the best one I’ve seen. I’m glad you brought me, but who
told you about this place to watch for a sunrise?”

“I can hear the
servants talking if I go over to the stairwell that leads to the
kitchen. I heard Maggie tell Mary if she wanted to take her beau
someplace special, they should go to Leddie’s Crag. She said her
beau brought her here, and she never enjoyed a sunrise more, and
then they giggled, so I guessed it must be an excellent place to
go,” he replied innocently.

Julie’s lips twitched.
“Er, I see. It seems they were right.”

Matthew smiled too. He
must admit Julie had worked wonders with Ian. At the best of times,
he and his nephew were at loggerheads. He could not look at him
without a reminder that Ian could have been his son. He shook his
head at the thought, and erased the smile from his face.

Blast this cursed
island
, he thought.

It had not always been
this way. He remembered long, lazy summer days spent with his
brother during their school holidays. They were extremely close and
then suddenly everything changed. They grew up with a vengeance,
and each went in a different direction.

His brother became the
laird when their father died and continued in his footsteps, while
Matthew roamed restlessly and sought his fortune in England as well
as foreign lands. He received rewards of wealth, and a title
bestowed on him by an English king he served but did not
support.

In those wild
rebellious days, Matthew felt no allegiance to anyone or anything,
let alone himself. Those were his reckless, wandering years, and
perhaps they were not over yet. He laughed to himself that he
should be thinking about still-painful memories after all these
years. He reasoned it must be the sea air or the melancholy winds
which blew relentlessly across the little island that made him feel
this way every time he came home.

Coming out of his
reverie, he heard the approach of the two early morning
adventurers. Quickly, he stepped back out of sight. Julie and Ian
passed by, unaware they were observed. The morning’s outing seemed
to have bolstered Ian’s mood, and for that Matthew was
grateful.

* * *

By the time they
reached the castle, Julie and Ian were giggling as if they were of
the same age. They entered the back stair door by the kitchen and
listened. When the coast was clear, they attempted to slip up to
their rooms unseen.

They made it halfway
up the stairs when they heard an all too familiar voice. “Noah!
Noah Ribble! You come here this instant. Where are me tarts? I told
you not to take another one without my say-so. I had plans for all
those tarts,” Mrs. Walker said, her foot tapping out an angry
cadence.

“I dinnae ken what yer
talkin’ about,” growled an indignant Ribble.

“My tarts, you old
reprobate! What do ye think? When I went to bed last night, I put
twelve butter tarts and twelve strawberry tarts under cover, and
now three are missing from each. How do ye explain it?” Mrs. Walker
waited for an answer.

“I dinnae take your
blasted tarts, woman,” he said and slammed the door as he walked
out.

Julie and Ian ran the
rest of the way to the schoolroom, taking the steps two at a time.
They immediately collapsed into another fit of giggles. Julie tried
to collect herself and correct the damage done to her position as
governess, but she could not stop laughing long enough. Later, she
would tell Mrs. Walker about the tarts and get Ribble out of
trouble, but for now she would enjoy their little joke because it
made Ian seem more like a child of nine years instead of a tired
old man.

After a more
substantial breakfast, they started on their lessons. The outing
had refreshed Ian, and he was eager to begin. His reading had
improved over the last six months. He liked to have Julie read
stories to him, and he liked to read to her.

“What shall we read
today? Let me see what we have not read lately,” Julie said,
looking through the bookcase. “How about one of my favorite poems
by Christopher Marlowe? You could read ‘The Passionate Shepherd to
His Love’ just for me,” Julie coaxed.

“Well, I guess I
could. I don’t know why you like all that love stuff. I’d much
rather read about battles and shipwrecks, or pirates,” Ian said
with a sparkle in his eyes.

“To be well-rounded
you must be well-read in many different topics. Besides, when
you’re older and find a special girl, you will thank me.”

Ian made a face, which
said he did not believe Julie, but he picked the book up and began
to read.

“
Come live with me
and be my love / And we will all the pleasures prove…”

He lacked enthusiasm,
but he read beautifully.

While Ian continued to
read, Julie moved to the window seat and looked out, lost in her
own thoughts.

“
The shepherd swains shall dance and sing / For
thy delight each May-morning: / If these delights thy mind may
move, / Then live with me and be my love.”

Startled, Julie came
back to earth at the sound of Matthew’s deep, smooth voice. She
spun around to look into his amused eyes.

Not one to be outdone,
she countered with Sir Walter Raleigh’s “The Nymph’s Reply to the
Shepherd.”

“
But could youth
last and love still breed, / Had joys no date nor age no need, /
Then these delights my mind might move / To live with thee and be
thy love
.”

“Bravo, Miss
Hastings,” Matthew said as he clapped his hands. “Spoken like a
true woman. From the purest virgin to the most experienced
courtesan, there are always conditions set on love.”

“It’s also true for a
man, you know. He asks you to love only him, when he loves where he
finds it. He goes off on grand adventures and asks you to wait for
him and be a constant lover, but he does not always return. Years
later, when he chances to come your way, he is married with a
family, and he can’t understand why you waited, but if you did not
wait, and he came back unmarried, he would feel he was the one
wronged. Love has its own restrictions put on it equally by men and
women,” Julie said passionately.

He walked over to
where she sat. “Tell me, Miss Hastings, would you be a constant
lover? Would you wait for this wandering man to return?”