Highlander Most Wanted (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #2)(84)

Genevieve had felt instant sympathy for Eveline, because she knew well what it was like to have such hatred directed at her.

But so far the women—and the men—had been nothing but courteous and warm toward Genevieve. She had no idea if ’twas their natural inclination or Bowen had issued a stern warning.

Bowen leaned over so his words would only be heard by Genevieve. “When we’ve finished our meal, let’s take a walk. I’ll show you the outside of the keep.”

There was more in his voice, a frustration that they hadn’t spent any time together since their arrival. Her cheeks grew warm with pleasure, and she smiled back at him.

“I’d like that.”

This time it was she who found his hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. He laced his fingers through hers and held tightly until they were forced to disentangle their hands in order to eat.

At the finish, Rorie looked expectantly in Genevieve’s direction, but Bowen was quick to interject himself.

“I am taking Genevieve around the grounds outside the keep. I’ll escort her to her chamber when we are finished. There’s no need for you to wait on her.”

Rorie pursed her lips and surveyed Bowen and Genevieve with a keen eye, which told Genevieve the lass wasn’t fooled in the least. A grin curved her lips and a mischievous light entered her eyes.

“I think I shall go find Father Drummond, since we missed this morning’s lessons. Perhaps he can fit in a few minutes this eve before he takes to his bed.”

Bowen groaned. “Give the man some peace, Rorie. You’ll drive him daft before long. The poor man will run screaming from Montgomery lands and swear an oath never to return.”

Rorie glared at Bowen, then rose from the table, her chin thrust upward. She turned and stalked away, leaving Bowen and Genevieve alone at the table.

“So what think you of Rorie?” Bowen asked.

“She’s fun,” Genevieve said. “And she has a huge heart. I like her very much.”

“She’s a meddlesome, interfering brat,” Bowen said in amusement. “But ’tis the truth we love her dearly and life would not be the same without her antics.”

Genevieve grinned. “Isn’t that the way with little sisters?”

Bowen rose and held out his hand to Genevieve. “Are you ready to take our walk?”

She slid her fingers over his, savoring the intimate contact. “I’d like that very much.”

He assisted her down the dais and turned to walk out the back entrance, past the bathhouses.

“You’re welcome to use the bathhouses or, if you prefer, you can have a tub and water brought up to your chamber if you require privacy. There is also the river, and Eveline often makes use of it, much to Graeme’s dismay. But if ’tis your preference, let me know and I’ll arrange it so you have complete privacy.”

Her heart squeezed, fluttering wildly. He was so solicitous. So caring.

He took her hand and enfolded it in his as they moved past the stone skirt surrounding the keep and toward the hillsides that overlooked the river.

The river was larger and deeper than the one at McHugh Keep. There were areas that could be used for bathing or swimming without fear of being seen.

Bowen led her to a vast expanse of green rolling terrain where sheep and horses grazed. The river was not far away and it posed a magnificent backdrop to the setting sun.

She breathed in a contented sigh. ’Twas beautiful here, and so very peaceful. She was filled with hope and, at last, happiness.

“I think I will be very happy here,” she said in a low voice.

Bowen looked away, unable to meet her gaze. She cocked her head, confused by his demeanor. Had she said something wrong? Did he plan to send her to the abbey after all?

“ ’Tis my heart’s wish for you to be happy,” he said. “ ’Tis all I want for you, Genevieve. You’ve suffered long enough. I would do whatever necessary to ensure that you are content.”

She squeezed his hand. “I never thought to meet a man like you, Bowen Montgomery. My experience has taught me to fear men and not to trust their pretty words and lies. You’ve been naught but honest and sincere with me.”

His face turned gray, and there was clear dismay in his eyes. He looked as though he’d swallowed something exceedingly unpleasant.

Worry plagued her, for his mood was different this night. He seemed distant, as if something bothered him.

“Bowen? Is aught amiss?”

He tugged her underneath the shelter of his arm as they continued their journey toward the river.

“Nay. That you are content is all that matters to me.”

“I am ever grateful to you,” she said earnestly. “Now that I am away from the McHughs, I cannot fathom ever going back. ’Tis something that haunts my sleep at night. I’ve dreamed for so long of being free of Ian and his clan that now that I am here ’tis hard to believe it’s not a figment of my most ardent desires.”

He kissed her tenderly, his mouth sweet on hers. “You’ll not ever return, Genevieve. You have my word on it.”

She touched his face, letting her fingers linger along his cheekbone. “You are a good man, Bowen. I’ll not ever forget all that you have done for me.”

He closed his eyes for a long moment, and when he opened them they were bleak and forlorn. She knew not what occupied his mind, but it worried her, for he was not his usual self this eve.