A Highland Folly by Jo Ann Ferguson Page B

the room. Anice remained silent. She wondered how the truth had become so twisted so quickly. With a sigh, she knew her explanation would travel far more slowly than the rumors had. She owed Lucais the duty of a warning. Neither he nor his crew must be endangered because of this absurd tale.
    She glanced again at Sir Busby and saw his scowl. He acted disappointed that Lucais had not been the intended victim. She had thought he was wiser than this, but mayhap his abhorrence for the road crew’s plans for the bridge was blinding him to the truth.
    Anice hurried through the light refreshments the reverend had prepared for his guests. The small cakes weighed heavily in her stomach as she collected her cloak. Tying the ribbons around her throat, she almost shrieked when broad hands settled the cloak across her shoulders.
    She laughed weakly. “Sir Busby, you startled me!”
    â€œI am sorry. I thought you saw me following you on your mad dash out of the parlor.”
    â€œWas I that obvious?”
    â€œI doubt if anyone else noticed.” He reached for his wool cap and tapped it onto his light brown hair. “May I escort you back to Ardkinloch?”
    â€œYes, thank you.” She would have preferred to have the time to sort out her thoughts, but she could not help thinking that his offer meant there were other rumors flitting through Killiebige that might have done her damage in the villagers’ eyes.
    When he offered his arm, she put her hand on it. She walked by his side across the common to the narrow footpath leading toward the river. The fog had thickened to enclose everything in a strange silver light. Somewhere, far above the clouds, the moon must be shining, but very little of its light filtered through the mist.
    â€œHow are you doing?” Sir Busby asked as they climbed the steep slope. “I saw how shocked you were at Catriona’s words.”
    â€œShe’s a beefhead.”
    He smiled so fleetingly, she wondered if it had been a trick of the uneven light. “I am not worried about her. I am worried about you.”
    â€œI’m fine.”
    â€œAre you?”
    â€œI just said that I was fine!” Abruptly furious that he would question her also, she faced him. “I thought you were my friend.”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œBut you listened to that poker-talk about Lucais and me.”
    He scowled. “I do not like to hear your names connected so.”
    â€œYou should know that there is nothing untoward between Lucais MacFarlane and me. If you doubt me, you need only ask my cousins. Neilli abhors the very sight of him, and Parlan cannot bring himself to speak Lucais’s name.”
    â€œNeilli?”
    Anice could not keep from staring at Sir Busby. All anger had disappeared from his face, and he wore an expression that could be described only as wistful calf-love. For Neilli? Her cousin must be unaware of Sir Busby’s attraction to her. Certainly she would have spoken of it … unless she was so blinded by her desire to have a London Season that she could not see a potential beau right here in Killiebige.
    â€œMiss Kinloch is a woman of strong … um, opinions,” he hurried to add.
    She fought not to smile. He had almost said “passions.” How had she missed what must be a growing tendre for her cousin?
    This might be just the solution she had sought for the problem of Neilli’s nagging to go to London. If she could persuade her cousin to consider Sir Busby as a suitor … then her only problem would be the road crew.
    Only problem? She sighed, but she recalled her mother’s advice that had gotten them through many rough times. There always was a way out of any quandary. All one needed to do was find it.
    Lucais looked up when the canvas door of his tent was pushed aside. Hearing a lyrical voice thanking someone, he came to his feet and let the plans he had been reviewing roll closed with a snap. He smiled as Anice