Highland Heather - Highland Heather Part 67
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Highland Heather Part 67

"How fresh you look, dear little Adrianna. You are like a breath of fresh air to these tired eyes."

Again she refused to look at him.

"The words roll so easily from your tongue, my lord. I think you find it easy to speak so to every woman."

"You think so?" He reached out, catching both her hands in his.

"Look at me, Adrianna."

She glanced up, then away.

"Why will you not look at me?"

When she said nothing his voice deepened.

"Are you afraid to look at me?"

She swallowed.

"Aye."

He felt his heart contract. He had foolishly set himself up for this pain. All night he had tossed and turned, dreaming of this time alone with such a beautiful lass. And all in vain. She was afraid of him.

Afraid of his affliction. And, if the truth be told, probably filled with pity at the sight of him. How could he have been so blind, so foolish? Now he must get through this with as much dignity as possible, and pretend that it meant as little to him as it apparently did to her.

"I am sorry, my lady." He dropped her hands and turned to cup a rosebud between his fingers.

"These were some of my mother's favorite blooms."

"I can see why. They are lovely."

He felt the old despair coming over him. How many times would he allow himself to hope, to dream, only to see those hopes and dreams dashed?

When would he learn that life was not like those fantasies that played in his mind, teasing him, tormenting him with their promises?

"If you care to push my chair, Adrianna, we can go inside now."

She stood, feeling a stab of pain. She had thought of nothing but this man since their first, meeting. She was in such a state of agitation she could hardly breathe. And now he was cruelly dismissing her.

Perhaps their little walk had overtaxed him. Still, he had seemed so eager to be with her until a few moments ago. But it had always been this way. She was too shy. Her sister and brother constantly told her so. But clever words and flirtatious behavior were impossible for her to attempt.

"You promised to show me the place where you and your brother played as lads."

Why was she prolonging his agony? Richard pointed toward the row of newly planted trees.

"It is over there."

She pushed his chair across the stones worn smooth from generations of Greys who had trod these paths.

"There was once a fountain here," he said softly.

"Brenna has suggested that the workmen could begin excavating. Perhaps, if my brother agrees, by late summer, there will be a new fountain here."

"It is so lovely." Her voice drifted over him, low, sultry. The soft French accent added a seductive quality.

"So peaceful. I envy your mother.

"Twould be a wonderful place to watch children grow."

Children. Did she not know how the knife twisted in his heart? What woman would ever care to have children with a man who could not run and play with them? Or teach them to sit a horse?

"Oh. Look, my lord." Adrianna touched a blood-red rose whose inner petals were touched with palest peach.

"How unique this blossom."

"Aye." Despite his glum thoughts Richard felt a rush of pleasure, that she should notice.

"I took a cutting from the roses near the hedges and tied them to these stems. And the result is an entirely new strain of rose. This is the first bloom." Without ceremony he plucked it and handed it to Adrianna.

She was stunned at his generous gesture.

"My lord. This is a flower like no other ever grown. You should not have picked it and wasted it on me."

His tone was gruff.

"It is mine to give. I want you to have it." His tone softened perceptibly.

"It suits you, Adrianna. You are a woman like no other."

Oh, why could she not be blessed with her sister's outgoing personality? Or some of Cordell's charm? She played with the sash at her waist while she kept her gaze averted. If only she could find the words.

Again she could not bring herself to look at him. It was further proof to Richard that she had come out here with him only out of a sense of pity.

He watched her for a moment, then said softly, "It is raining harder, my lady. You will soon be drenched. We should go in."

"Aye." She inhaled the fragrance of the rose, then reached for the back of his chair. As she did, her fingers encountered his shoulder.

How lean and muscled he was. Her fingers tingled from the contact, and yet she had not the strength to back away.

Richard went very still, feeling the imprint of her touch upon his flesh. How long it had been since a woman touched him. How he longed for that which had been denied him for so long.

"My lord..."

"My lady..."

They both fell silent.

Adrianna began to push the heavy chair. As they moved past a trellis overgrown with roses, thunder crashed and the sky seemed to open up, drenching them.

"We had better stop here a moment, until there is a break in the clouds."