Forever My Love (Berkeley-Faulkner #2)(12)

“Something for Lord Sackville,” she said, then could have bitten her tongue off for the slip she had made Her fingers tightened around the root.

“Oh?” Alec’s voice sharpened. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“I think I’ve seen something like that before. It’s a mandrake root, isn’t it?”

“Do you come here merely to torment me?” Mira exploded, trying to sidetrack him with an irritated spate of words. “It’s… it’s merely for good health. I’m the only one around here who dares to dig it up because everyone else is so superstitious.”

“Why? Is it bad luck to dig it up?”

“Yes. It’s supposed to be dragged out by a black dog, so unless you can change into one. you’re not needed here!”

Alec’s next words were threaded with laughtsr.

“The mandrake. If I’m not mistaken, he Gypsies call it the ‘two-legged man plant.’ If you insist on ripping those out of the ground, it will not bode well for your reputation.”

“If there is one thing that is useless to worry over, it’s my reputation,” Mira said. “It’s well shredded by now—”

” ‘Pulverized’ would be a more accurate term.”

“Yours is hardly puncture-free,” she pointed out.

“Bad reputations are a family characteristic,” Alec replied, leaning against a sturdy slanting tree trunk

and crossing his long legs idly. “I would hardly be a Falkner without one. Everyone has a blighted character, even my mother.” Especially his mother, Juliana Penrhyn Falkner, who had informed him pertly before he had left Hamiltonshire that she hoped to be hearing his name soon in connection with a scandal or two. “You’re been quiet for far too long since your cousin’s passing,” she had said to him sternly. “I’ve always encouraged my boys to be rowdy and troublesome… healthier that way. I didn’t raise you to brood, and I won’t begin to tolerate it now.” Sharp-tongued, wise, and aggressive, his mother, with a heart that he suspected was soft, but had never been quite certain of it.

“You have a large family?” Mira asked, fingering a pink-flowered sprig of coriander and glancing at him out of the corners of her eyes. “Very large. Very eccentric.” Mira laughed, the sound free and natural, so unlike the well-practiced and self-conscious giggles that Alec was accustomed to hearing from women. “Eccentric in what way?” “I suppose we span the usual variety of faults.” “And what is your fault?” she asked, her coffee-colored eyes daring him to answer honestly.

Alec smiled slightly and pushed himself away from the tree, walking back toward Sovereign. Mira waited in silence, wondering if he was going to reply or not. In a lithe movement Alec swung himself lightly into the saddle, the sunlight playing lovingly over his raven hair as he inclined his dark head to look at her. “I never ask for permission.” “Oh. I suppose… that would tend to earn trouble for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Where you’re concerned, I suspect it will,” he said softly, and touched his heels to the horse’s sides. Flustered, Mira could not bring herself to say good-bye as he left.

The fourth morning Mira was exasperated with her self to find that she was unconsciously waiting for him to appear. Before going out she had spent several minutes debating with herself in front of the mirror wanting to arrange her hair in a more elaborate an becoming style than the simple braid, and then cursing herself for even daring to think of such a thing. You are learning new things about yourself, she thought wryly. I did not know that your vanity was so great that you would want to make yourself more attractive for a man you dislike! And you probably won’t even see him today! Gritting her teeth, she plaited he, lustrous hair into its customary braid and tromped out. to the woods.

It was becoming cooler every day, all the more reason for Mira to enjoy her mornings out before the weather began to inhibit her walks. The forest that bordered the fine gardens and lawns of Sackville Manor was lush and mysterious, inviting her most fantastic thoughts to come to life. Lush ferns and spicy golden pine needles carpeted the ground, while trailing moss and small, bright flowers permeated the air with an earthy scent. It was dim, the air shadowed by the brawny trees, but in some places the sunlight shone through to dapple the ground. Sighing in contentment, Mira sat on a huge rock and hooked her arms around her bent knees.

As Alec approached her, he wished that he had not given in to the urge to find her again. He had to find some way of dispelling his damned fascination with her. Ever since he first met her, thoughts of her disturbed his sleep; unconsciously he compared, her with all of the women that were available for his pleasure, and he wanted only her. To his dismay, he was beginning to realize that his desire for her might not be merely a temporary thing. Dismounting from his horse, Alec wrapped the reins around a tender sapling

and approached Mira slowly. She appeared not to notice him, then spoke with her eyes fastened on some distant point in the woods.

“I heard that the fox was not taken yesterday,” she said.

“We ran him to ground.”

“Lord Sackville said that many of the men wanted to dig the fox out of its hole but that you convinced them otherwise.”

“Yes,” Alec answered, leaning one solid shoulder against a tree and looking at her with that strange rain-gray gaze, which caused a faint flush of awareness to spread across her cheeks. “It’s unsporting to dig a fox once he’s found a place to hide.”