and neighbor.”
“Neighbor is it?” Mrs. Carver sniffed as she set the vase of yellow daffodils on the coffee table. “The squire is too modest as usual.”
There was something less than a compliment behind Mrs. Carver’s words, and Shawna sensed it at once, although she didn’t notice the squire take umbrage.
Mrs. Carver went on to say, “The squire is a bit more than your neighbor, dear. He owns this cottage and all the land bordering it as well. His is the beautiful manor you might have seen on your way down Darby Road.”
“Oh…” Shawna was surprised. “Yes, I did notice a gated driveway….”
“Aye then, that was MacDunn Manor.” Mrs. Carver nodded, but there was no smile on her face or in her eyes as she came to stand beside Shawna.
Shawna smiled tentatively, unsure what was behind the woman’s sudden mood swing. However, the squire seemed oblivious or unconcerned as he took up a place at the far end of the sofa. A quick survey of the squire had registered the notion with Shawna that he was too young to harbor all the sorrow that seemed to temper his demeanor.
Another glance at him told her that he was probably in his late twenties, that his hair, a pale shade of brown, was already tinged with gray, and that his hazel eyes were soft and shaded with quiet.
He wore a simple navy wool blazer over a heavy pale blue sweater and jeans, and as she brought her silver eyes back up to his face, she saw that a smile of amusement was curving his lips. Apparently he had been taken stock of her as well.
She immediately decided there was certainly something very appealing about the squire. She turned around to find Mrs. Carver still frowning.
“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to bear down on you when you first arrived, but I wanted to welcome you to the cottage and extend an invitation to you to enjoy the trails and bridle paths if walking and riding are pastimes that might be your inclination,” the squire offered into the sudden silence.
“Thank you, but riding? Is there a stable nearby that leases horses?” It was one of the things Shawna had been missing in the last six months.
“Yes, there is, but you needn’t bother with a hack horse. I have wonderful horses at the manor. You are welcome to come up and speak with my stableman about fitting you to a mount. My mother used to ride…” He frowned and looked away, and then he scanned the room with a sad smile. “It’s been a long time since this cottage had a tenant.”
“Why is that? This place is beautiful…” Shawna was surprised. “I would have thought it would stay occupied year round.”
He inclined his head. “My mother lived here—but, I lost her a little over a year ago.”
“Oh—I am sorry…”
He gave her a slight inclination of his head, and Mrs. Carver apparently decided it was time to change the subject. “Where are my manners? May we offer you some tea, Squire?” She moved off towards the kitchen again. “You would like that, wouldn’t you, dear, after your long journey?”
“Do I have tea and biscuits in the place?” Shawna laughed.
“Aye, enough groceries to keep you a few days—I didn’t want you to come to an empty house and have to go shopping right off.”
“You are a dream, Mrs. Carver.”
“Aye, so my family knows but won’t tell me.”
Shawna laughed and turned to the squire. “Well then, thanks to Mrs. Carver, tea and biscuits.”
He laughed. “Apparently.”
“So all this land belongs to you?” Shawna’s eyes opened slightly with her interest.
“Aye, right up to the south road into town.”
Shawna almost snorted but checked herself. “What, only the south? Not the east, west, and north?”
“Och no, ’ tisn’t I that owns all that…” His face took on an odd expression.
Shawna’s mind started working—a rival? There had been something in the way the Squire’s eye had twitched ever so slightly when he spoke. Did people with so much land still fight for more? Old feuds?
He
“Neighbor is it?” Mrs. Carver sniffed as she set the vase of yellow daffodils on the coffee table. “The squire is too modest as usual.”
There was something less than a compliment behind Mrs. Carver’s words, and Shawna sensed it at once, although she didn’t notice the squire take umbrage.
Mrs. Carver went on to say, “The squire is a bit more than your neighbor, dear. He owns this cottage and all the land bordering it as well. His is the beautiful manor you might have seen on your way down Darby Road.”
“Oh…” Shawna was surprised. “Yes, I did notice a gated driveway….”
“Aye then, that was MacDunn Manor.” Mrs. Carver nodded, but there was no smile on her face or in her eyes as she came to stand beside Shawna.
Shawna smiled tentatively, unsure what was behind the woman’s sudden mood swing. However, the squire seemed oblivious or unconcerned as he took up a place at the far end of the sofa. A quick survey of the squire had registered the notion with Shawna that he was too young to harbor all the sorrow that seemed to temper his demeanor.
Another glance at him told her that he was probably in his late twenties, that his hair, a pale shade of brown, was already tinged with gray, and that his hazel eyes were soft and shaded with quiet.
He wore a simple navy wool blazer over a heavy pale blue sweater and jeans, and as she brought her silver eyes back up to his face, she saw that a smile of amusement was curving his lips. Apparently he had been taken stock of her as well.
She immediately decided there was certainly something very appealing about the squire. She turned around to find Mrs. Carver still frowning.
“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to bear down on you when you first arrived, but I wanted to welcome you to the cottage and extend an invitation to you to enjoy the trails and bridle paths if walking and riding are pastimes that might be your inclination,” the squire offered into the sudden silence.
“Thank you, but riding? Is there a stable nearby that leases horses?” It was one of the things Shawna had been missing in the last six months.
“Yes, there is, but you needn’t bother with a hack horse. I have wonderful horses at the manor. You are welcome to come up and speak with my stableman about fitting you to a mount. My mother used to ride…” He frowned and looked away, and then he scanned the room with a sad smile. “It’s been a long time since this cottage had a tenant.”
“Why is that? This place is beautiful…” Shawna was surprised. “I would have thought it would stay occupied year round.”
He inclined his head. “My mother lived here—but, I lost her a little over a year ago.”
“Oh—I am sorry…”
He gave her a slight inclination of his head, and Mrs. Carver apparently decided it was time to change the subject. “Where are my manners? May we offer you some tea, Squire?” She moved off towards the kitchen again. “You would like that, wouldn’t you, dear, after your long journey?”
“Do I have tea and biscuits in the place?” Shawna laughed.
“Aye, enough groceries to keep you a few days—I didn’t want you to come to an empty house and have to go shopping right off.”
“You are a dream, Mrs. Carver.”
“Aye, so my family knows but won’t tell me.”
Shawna laughed and turned to the squire. “Well then, thanks to Mrs. Carver, tea and biscuits.”
He laughed. “Apparently.”
“So all this land belongs to you?” Shawna’s eyes opened slightly with her interest.
“Aye, right up to the south road into town.”
Shawna almost snorted but checked herself. “What, only the south? Not the east, west, and north?”
“Och no, ’ tisn’t I that owns all that…” His face took on an odd expression.
Shawna’s mind started working—a rival? There had been something in the way the Squire’s eye had twitched ever so slightly when he spoke. Did people with so much land still fight for more? Old feuds?
He
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