Kate can’t be here until tonight. Richmond is such a delightful place ... especially now.”
Patrick waggled suggestive eyebrows at Robert. “This must be Providence ... a heaven-sent opportunity to renew your acquaintance. Unfortunately, I have other plans. I intended to go hunting the moment I arrived. The dense woods of Richmond are reputed to teem with wild game. I’ll be gone most of the day.” When he saw the roses bloom in Lady Widdrington’s cheeks, Patrick knew she had taken his point.
He went upstairs to change into clothes he used for hunting in Scotland. He donned leather breeks and boots and replaced his shirt with a sheepskin vest that left his arms bare. He ran his hand over his bristly chin and knew he needed a shave, but decided he would do it tonight when he returned to the hall. He strapped on a wide leather belt that held both his hunting knife and dirk.
The dogs, already excited at the prospect of a hunt in new territory, followed Patrick to the stables and waited impatiently as he resaddled Valiant. He kept them in check until they entered the forest, then almost immediately they tore off after a hare they spotted. The Scottish deerhounds were trained to take down large stags, and Patrick had high hopes of returning with venison.
Suddenly a scream rent the air. It was the unmistakable cry of a woman, and the hair on the nape of Hepburn’s neck stood on end.
He tightened his reins and with his knees quickly guided his big black hunter between the trees to the clearing where the dogs had found their quarry.
“Satan! Sabbath! Heel!” One of his deerhounds had been standing with its enormous paws on the female’s shoulders, and when it removed them the impact knocked her down.
Patrick was out of the saddle in a flash. He ran over to the small girl and lifted her to her feet. “Are you all right, lass?” He was about to examine her for broken bones, when she raised black-fringed lashes and stared at him in utter outrage through amber eyes flecked with shimmering gold.
Patrick’s heart jumped into his throat. “Cat!”
Chapter Four
C atherine, who had been feeling triumphantly self-righteous as she watched the last tiny quail flutter off into the dense undergrowth, suddenly became aware of a pair of enormous, shaggy beasts rushing toward her. When one of the monsters stood on its hind legs and planted its great forepaws on her shoulders so that its huge head towered above her, she feared wolves were attacking her and a scream of terror was torn from her throat.
When a male voice, deep and authoritative, ordered the animal to heel, its heavy forepaws pushed her to the ground in its rush to obey its master’s command. She instantly realized they were not wolves but massive hunting hounds, and her fear was replaced by hot fury. Then a powerful arm reached down, lifted her into the air and planted her feet on the ground with such force that it jarred her teeth together.
With utter outrage she stared at the dark giant whose sheer size overshadowed everything in his presence, including her—especially her! The uncivilized brute not only had the audacity to speak to her; the lout had actually called her Cat !
She recoiled in horror, her gorge rising at the thought that he had actually touched her. “How dare you speak my name?” Her breasts rose and fell in indignant agitation. His dark visage was so threatening that she took a step backward and held her pale yellow skirts away from him so that his loathsome presence would not contaminate her. The baseborn creature was garbed in leather and wore a filthy sheepskin that branded him a primitive savage. She had never encountered such a coarse, unsavory barbarian in her entire life. He was completely different from all the other men of her acquaintance. He was oversized, overbold and overbearing. “You are trespassing, you uncivilized lout. These woods are the private property of the Spencers and Careys. You had best leave at once before I
Patrick waggled suggestive eyebrows at Robert. “This must be Providence ... a heaven-sent opportunity to renew your acquaintance. Unfortunately, I have other plans. I intended to go hunting the moment I arrived. The dense woods of Richmond are reputed to teem with wild game. I’ll be gone most of the day.” When he saw the roses bloom in Lady Widdrington’s cheeks, Patrick knew she had taken his point.
He went upstairs to change into clothes he used for hunting in Scotland. He donned leather breeks and boots and replaced his shirt with a sheepskin vest that left his arms bare. He ran his hand over his bristly chin and knew he needed a shave, but decided he would do it tonight when he returned to the hall. He strapped on a wide leather belt that held both his hunting knife and dirk.
The dogs, already excited at the prospect of a hunt in new territory, followed Patrick to the stables and waited impatiently as he resaddled Valiant. He kept them in check until they entered the forest, then almost immediately they tore off after a hare they spotted. The Scottish deerhounds were trained to take down large stags, and Patrick had high hopes of returning with venison.
Suddenly a scream rent the air. It was the unmistakable cry of a woman, and the hair on the nape of Hepburn’s neck stood on end.
He tightened his reins and with his knees quickly guided his big black hunter between the trees to the clearing where the dogs had found their quarry.
“Satan! Sabbath! Heel!” One of his deerhounds had been standing with its enormous paws on the female’s shoulders, and when it removed them the impact knocked her down.
Patrick was out of the saddle in a flash. He ran over to the small girl and lifted her to her feet. “Are you all right, lass?” He was about to examine her for broken bones, when she raised black-fringed lashes and stared at him in utter outrage through amber eyes flecked with shimmering gold.
Patrick’s heart jumped into his throat. “Cat!”
Chapter Four
C atherine, who had been feeling triumphantly self-righteous as she watched the last tiny quail flutter off into the dense undergrowth, suddenly became aware of a pair of enormous, shaggy beasts rushing toward her. When one of the monsters stood on its hind legs and planted its great forepaws on her shoulders so that its huge head towered above her, she feared wolves were attacking her and a scream of terror was torn from her throat.
When a male voice, deep and authoritative, ordered the animal to heel, its heavy forepaws pushed her to the ground in its rush to obey its master’s command. She instantly realized they were not wolves but massive hunting hounds, and her fear was replaced by hot fury. Then a powerful arm reached down, lifted her into the air and planted her feet on the ground with such force that it jarred her teeth together.
With utter outrage she stared at the dark giant whose sheer size overshadowed everything in his presence, including her—especially her! The uncivilized brute not only had the audacity to speak to her; the lout had actually called her Cat !
She recoiled in horror, her gorge rising at the thought that he had actually touched her. “How dare you speak my name?” Her breasts rose and fell in indignant agitation. His dark visage was so threatening that she took a step backward and held her pale yellow skirts away from him so that his loathsome presence would not contaminate her. The baseborn creature was garbed in leather and wore a filthy sheepskin that branded him a primitive savage. She had never encountered such a coarse, unsavory barbarian in her entire life. He was completely different from all the other men of her acquaintance. He was oversized, overbold and overbearing. “You are trespassing, you uncivilized lout. These woods are the private property of the Spencers and Careys. You had best leave at once before I
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