Going Rogue (22 page)

“Lord and Lady Marshall, Lord MacCalistair, and Mr. Marshall shall make up the other team.”

Derek stepped forward. “Couldn’t we just divide up into four equal teams? There are eight of us, after all.”

“For once, I agree with Sutherland,” Garrett appeared less than thrilled by the current arrangement. “And it looks like we’re a bit heavy with men on our team. I’d hate to have an unfair advantage. Maybe I should be on your team, and Ophelia could take my place?”

Alex vehemently shook her head. “Four teams would make things far too confusing. And as for your concern with gender, it is a simple treasure hunt and I’m sure the need for brute strength or whatever else it is you think you could provide will hardly be necessary.” She clapped her hands together, signaling the troops. “Two teams it is! Let’s get this game going, shall we?”

Meredith caught a glimpse of Derek bumping into Garrett’s shoulder on his way to join their team. Garrett looked as if he was about to say something, then quickly turned away, ignoring the insult. He’d know better than to say something and risk causing a scene. The tension between the two men was palpable, each one making little effort to conceal his animosity toward the other.

The low rumbling of thunder sounded in the far-off distance.

Lady Marshall peered out under the shade of her hand. “It looks as if it might rain. Perhaps we can delay this for a bit longer until we know what the weather has in store?”

Ophelia stooped down to study a gathering of small flowers not too far from where they were all standing. “I agree with Mama. We should put this off for a later time. I’d hate for us to get too far away from the house when the storm hits.”

“Listen to you all,” Alex scolded. “How can you be so sure it’s going to actually rain? It’s summer—there’s always a bit of thunder somewhere.”

Ophelia held up a scarlet bloom from the bunch she’d been examining. “This is a red pimpernel. It only closes when the weather’s about to take a turn for the worse. The humidity is what triggers it.”

“But it’s a flower,” Alex protested. “Surely you can’t tell all that by a simple plant?”

Meredith looked out into the dark clouds threatening the horizon. “Alex, although I’m quite impressed by your sudden enthusiasm for something you’d generally despise, I have to side with Ophelia on this one.”

“Perhaps the flower’s made a mistake?”

Meredith shook her head. “The plant may be wrong, but your hair never lies—it’s more accurate than any weather glass could ever be. You’re starting to frizz, Alex, and we both know that’s a primary indicator of rain.”

Ophelia crinkled up her nose.

Meredith shrugged. “What? So, you have your scientific methods and I have mine.”

Alex touched her loose curls that were turning progressively kinkier by the moment. “My hair is just fine. Now, let’s gather up the teams and get this over with so if it does rain, we’ll be done in plenty of time.”

There was no use in arguing. Lady Alexandra always got her way, and nothing they could say would dissuade her otherwise.

Meredith and her team meandered through the Marshall’s property with little luck finding the objects named on the list.

“Up there,” Ophelia pointed. “It’s the gardener’s cottage. We should find some of these items there.”

Meredith grimaced. “I’d hate to disturb your poor gardener.”

She shook her head. “It’s not really being used right now. It fell into some disrepair, something with the roof, so he’s been staying near the stables until it’s fixed.”

“Perhaps we can stop and have a bite to eat?” Alex suggested.

Derek patted the satchel he’d been charged with carrying. “I wouldn’t mind stopping either.”

The group settled a few yards over from the cottage and Derek set out the blanket Cook had packed for them.

“Men always seem to have such voracious appetites,” Ophelia mentioned, setting out a wedge of cheese.

Derek looked over at Meredith. “And some women . . .”

She perked up at the comment, it’s blatantly sensual overtone was not lost on her. “Are you insinuating something, Lord Sutherland?”

He chuckled, his blue eyes dancing wickedly. “I’m not insinuating anything, Miss Castle. I’m blatantly accusing. You forget—I’ve seen what you can do with bread pudding.”

Meredith pressed her lips together, still annoyed, but relieved his remarks were innocent in nature and weren’t in direct reference to their moments alone together. “It’s not polite to insult a woman by speaking about her appetite in front of others . . . or at all for that matter.”

He rested back on his elbows, stretching his long, lean body across the blanket. His jacket was pulled taut across his wide shoulders, his chest testing the give of his waistcoat.

The man may have been a complete cad, but there was no denying he was a terribly attractive cad.

“It wasn’t an insult,” he replied with a lazy smile. “I’ve always enjoyed seeing a woman with an appetite.”

Meredith sat on the opposite corner, Alex and Ophelia providing buffers between them. “I’m surprised you even remembered.” She was slightly taken aback by the brief moment of civility. “Your cook’s bread pudding was always my favorite.”

He was beaming now, lost was that practiced grin he was always sporting, and in its place, a genuine smile. She couldn’t help but wonder where the infamous Lord Sutherland had taken off too since the man sitting before her more closely resembled the Derek Weston she used to know.

“You two must have been close.” Ophelia cut off two pieces of cheese and handed one over to Derek.

Derek shifted his gaze away from Meredith and looked at Ophelia. “We were.”

“Lord Sutherland, you simply must tell us about Meredith as a child.” Alex looked at Meredith as if expecting some sort of reaction.

She knew better than to give her one.

“There’s nothing exciting, that much I can promise you,” Meredith assured her.

Ophelia shifted onto her knees. “I’d love to hear more about Meredith when she was a girl. I know she was from a small village and not much more than that.”

“Funny,” Alex remarked. “I’ve known her years longer than you and that’s about all I know of her past as well.”

Derek looked at Meredith, his blue eyes reflecting the gray of the overcast sky above them. “Well, I suppose I can tell you what I remember.”

Chapter 28

He remembered everything.

Years ago, Derek swore to himself he was going to forget. When he first set sail with King’s Ransom, he was certain that by the time his voyage was over, he’d never think of Meredith Castle again. She’d become a distant memory, the details lost forever, replaced by a life of adventure and rollicking good times.

He’d been wrong. The memories never faded; to this day, they remained as vivid and clear as ever. He may have tamped them down with his resentment, but they were all still there. His conversation with Ophelia the night before had opened the floodgates—the possibility of her still loving him making him remember all that was good about her, and helping him to forget that awful day when she’d told him otherwise.

He spoke to the group, never taking his eyes off Meredith’s. “She was always so cheerful,” he reminisced. “Sunshine, I’d call her. With that blond hair and personality, it was impossible to be anything but happy in her presence.”

Ophelia placed her hand to her chest. “That’s so thoughtful. What a sweet little boy you must have been.”

He noticed Lady Alexandra had grown quiet, something that in his experience wasn’t quite normal, but didn’t let that discourage him from continuing. He’d talk until Meredith indicated it was time not to.

“And she loved being out of doors. She was quite the horsewoman, beating me in every race.”

“You told my brother you didn’t ride,” Ophelia practically squealed.

Meredith was plucking blades of grass out of the ground. “I never said I didn’t ride, just that I preferred not to.”

Derek grinned. “She was quite good. There wasn’t much else to do in Middlebury, except ride horses, so we got plenty of practice. But her greatest gift was her music. She was an exceptional musician.”

Meredith was looking down now, studying the ground as if the grass captivated her attention entirely.

“She wasn’t good in the way so many people are—having to learn how to play an instrument just to appease their parents as children, but truly gifted. She practiced constantly, loud enough that you could hear her clear out to the road in front of her home. That’s how I knew how good she was. I’d be passing by and hear her . . . and I always stopped to listen.”

“I’d nearly forgotten how much she used to play,” Alex said, speaking as though Meredith wasn’t sitting right next to her. “After she first arrived in London, she’d often play for her friends, but not as much now. She was truly a virtuoso, better than anyone I’d ever heard before.”

Derek sighed. “I can’t imagine being so good at something and not wanting to do it all the time.”

Still, she didn’t look up. He suspected she may actually be counting the blades now, trying to remove herself as far from the conversation as possible.

“She sounds like a delight.” Ophelia smiled.

Her smile was infectious and he grinned along with her. “She truly was. Meredith was one of the happiest people I’ve ever known, and it’s been my good fortune having had her in my life.”

It wasn’t until he’d spoken the words that he realized what he’d just said.

He looked at the others, both girls sharing similar quizzical expressions. He’d only meant to think that last part, but his tongue seemed to have outpaced his mind. “Is there any wine in there?” He grinned, acting as if he’d said nothing at all. “All this talking has me parched.”

A month ago, if asked how he felt about Meredith Castle, he would have answered that he regretted having ever met her. But even that wasn’t completely true. She’d been a bright spot in his life. He’d always had a loving family, but she’d made his life special in a way that no one else could. He felt better for having known her, for loving her. She truly gave him purpose, direction.

Without her, he never felt
right
anywhere.

He knew that was why he’d never stay in Scotland for any extended period of time. He couldn’t imagine anywhere being his home without her there. Even after all these years, after all the pain,
she
was still where he belonged.

And it had always been far easier to run from it than to accept that daunting realization.

“Shall we get back to business?” Alex stood up and dusted off her bottom. “There are still plenty of items on the list that need to be found. I’d hate for the other team to beat us to them.”

The others followed suit, each one standing and helping return the remnants of the makeshift picnic to the satchel. Suddenly, Alex tripped and fell to the ground.

“Lady Alexandra?” Derek ran to her side. “Are you all right? What happened?”

She was crying and clutched at her ankle. “I twisted my ankle,” she wailed. “I must have fallen in that hole over there.” She nodded toward a patch of flat grass.

Derek followed her gaze, but saw nothing. “I don’t see any hole . . .”

Alex grimaced. “Oh, my ankle!”

He went to her foot. Her gown had inched up just enough for him to get a glimpse of the injury, or the apparent lack thereof. Her ankle was exquisite—delicate, unmarred by so much as a scratch. “May I?” He nodded toward the affected extremity.

Ophelia went to her side and held her hand.

Alex pulled her gown up a little higher, relinquishing her leg to his manual examination. He first felt the foot, then the ankle, and the lowest part of her calf. Still, he couldn’t detect the slightest part out of place.

“Do you think you can walk?” Ophelia asked, her brown eyes wide with worry.

He looked back at Meredith, who was standing silently at her friend’s feet, arms akimbo.

Alex hesitated before speaking. “I believe I can manage. Perhaps Ophelia can help me back to the house?”

Derek looked over at Ophelia. There was no way the petite, slip of a girl could help to crutch anyone. “I don’t think so. I’ll be the one to carry you.”

“No!” Alex howled. “You can’t. This is Ophelia’s home, I’m sure she’ll know the route better than you.”

He bit back a sarcastic remark. He’d navigated oceans for the last five years and she was worried he couldn’t find his way through a field of wildflowers? “I’m sure I can manage to get you back safely.”

“No!” she shouted again. “We have no chaperone and it wouldn’t be proper with you, a gentleman, escorting me back
alone
. Especially with your reputation.”

He was just about to say something when Meredith came forward.

“We’ll all go back together,” she offered.

Finally, someone was speaking sensibly.

Alex vehemently shook her head. “There’s no reason why my little injury should ruin your good time. You two can find the remainder of the items on the list, and Ophelia will be back to join you just as soon as she gets me tucked into bed. She’s more than happy to do this for me, aren’t you?”

Ophelia was looking up at the sky when she heard her name. “It doesn’t look good. Perhaps it would be best to seek shelter for now? And then we can all go back together,
after
it rains.”

Alex’s eyes fluttered. “I don’t know if I can wait that long. The pain is excruciating.”

Derek tried not to laugh. Her ankle wasn’t even swollen, so her claim of discomfort was hardly believable. Still, he couldn’t fathom why the girl would have cause to lie.

Ophelia lifted her chin. “I’ll take her.”

Alex stood up with a good amount of assistance from the others and started limping away with the help of her human crutch, the poor Ophelia.

Derek watched until the two women had walked out of sight. Only then did he turn to look at Meredith.

She was standing behind him, holding the list. “Should we get on with it, then?”

He didn’t want to. She was blatantly ignoring the previous conversation and causing an almost awkward situation to escalate. He wanted to talk about what he’d said, to ask her why. Why did she no longer ride horses? Why didn’t she play her pianoforte like she used to?