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“Infatuation, then. It seems he is very taken by yer beauty.”

“Aye, it does. And that’s the problem.” Jonet sighed again and rose. “I suppose I should go see him. It would be rude of me nae to.”

“Ruder than ye’ve already been?”

“Cold, Ma. Distant, ye could say. But perhaps I really should be a little mean so that he is nay longer interested.”

Rinalda shook her head slowly, the movement appearing painful. “Why daenae ye give him a chance, Jonet? Ye could only court him and if ye like him, then perhaps then ye could consider marriage.”

Jonet’s lips tightened. She did not want to repeat to her mother the reason why she was so opposed to marrying. Her mother was much too weak right now and she feared what bringing up such a painful past might do. Yet she repeated it to herself, reminding her own mind that she would never grow close to a man again.

“Rest, Ma,” she said softly.

As if she had been waiting to hear those words, Rinalda’s eyes drifted shut. Jonet stared down at her mother for a short while, watching her deep, uneven breathing. It broke her heart to see her so unwell and a day did not pass by without her wishing she would be well again.

It would certainly make her happy to see me married. But…I daenae ken if I can do it.

Jonet steeled herself as she left and made her way to the same sitting room where she had found Matthew the day before. She should have known he would be back. Despite how much she had kept him at arm’s length, Jonet should not have been surprised that it would not have kept him away. When she arrived at the sitting room to find him standing by the tall open window waiting for her, her heart thumped in her chest.

Oh, calm down, will ye, she told herself, annoyed by her reaction.

It had been a valiant effort trying to keep herself from admiring him the entire time she was with him. He should not have been so handsome. It was only making it harder to take her eyes from him, harder to keep from liking him. She still did not trust him, more now than ever, but she could not deny that he was handsome enough to have any woman he wished.

He turned as she approached and grinned. Her heartbeat tripled. Her chest seemed to tighten in response to his sudden attention and she pulled the shawl tighter around herself, embarrassed by her reaction.

“Ye are here again,” she tried to school her voice into nonchalance.

“Of course,” he said, as if it were something she should have expected. “I wished to see ye again.”

“Why?”

“Why did I wish to see ye again?” His smile turned lopsided, sheepish almost as he rubbed the back of his head. Jonet hated how much more handsome he appeared in that moment. “Will ye believe me when I say that our walk yesterday has only made me more interested in ye?”

She almost let out a frustrated breath. The walk was supposed to make him lose interest. “I cannae understand why. I wasnae very welcoming.”

“Aye,” he nodded, much to her surprise. “But ye did promise to make me sweet cakes and so I wish to stick by yer side until I get them.”

She stared at him, not knowing what to say. Matthew looked a little embarrassed.

“It was a joke,” he explained.

She knew. That was what made her so silent. She wanted to laugh.

Jonet quickly swallowed it and lifted her chin. “Would ye like to go for a walk again? Let’s go, then. There’s nay need tarrying here.”

“Actually,” he called before she could turn away. “I was thinkin’ of going for a ride with ye. And I wish to make it interestin’.”

“Interestin’?” Her interest was piqued.

“Aye. I ken I did or said somethin’ yesterday that might have upset ye and I wish to ken about it. But I thought we could get a little bit of fun out of it.”

The mention of fun made her both trepidant and excited. She tried to school her expression, but she was sure Matthew could read her well enough. “What do ye have in mind?”

Jonet felt a tremor of delight when he leaned close to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “We will have a race.”

“A race?” she blurted out.

“Aye. I’ve heard there is a loch nearby. The first person to reach the loch will have the right to ask three questions, which the loser has to answer truthfully, nay matter what.”


Tags: Lydia Kendall Historical