The American Bride - By Karla Darcy Page 0,56
she had visited.
It was strange to think back a month when she had first come to Weathersfield. Then the sheer size of the Hall had overwhelmed her. She thought she would never be able to feel comfortable within the great stone dwelling. The children had been instrumental in making her feel at home. To them the Hall had been no more intimidating than a smaller place. They seemed to understand that a household was filled with people and that was what mattered. Cara had found welcome and friendship with the servants and the tenants. She had met them and lived with them in the inconspicuous role of governess so they had been open with her in a way that would never have been possible if she had first come to Weathersfield as Julian's bride.
When she returned, her welcome would be different. It saddened Cara to realize that when she returned as Lady Wilton the open relationship would be gone, superseded by a respect for her position and a sense of propriety that would permit little familiarity. The majority of them would never see the bland governess in their fiery-haired mistress. Perhaps Mrs. Clayton might catch a glimpse of the truth but Cara knew she would never tread on the relationship. Glum would know her no matter what she wore or what she looked like. He had an innate honesty that cut right to the core of everything and he would recognize her. That pleased Cara and a smile flitted across her face as she relished the expression on his face as he plumbed her secret.
Restless at Cara's woolgathering, Gentian whickered. Touching the velvety neck, she soothed the mare with a gentle stroking motion. A movement halfway down the hill caught Cara's attention and she tensed, senses alert to danger.
Astride Tyrr, Julian was riding up the hill, heading directly toward her.
Wheeling the mare around, Cara cut back into the woods, seeking the safety of the trees to cover her movements. She did not know if Julian had seen her but could not afford to take the chance of running into him. Once in the woods, Cara pulled Gentian to a halt, forcing down the panic that assailed her. She tried to breath slowly, concentrating as she organized her thoughts.
Julian was between her and the Hall. She couldn't risk heading back to the stables until she was sure that he was not close enough to spot her. Possibly he was out for a ride but Cara had a premonition in her bones that he was looking for her. There was no point in running further afield, although the blind panic she had felt when she spied Julian urged her to flight. If he had seen her he would assume that she was heading away from Weathersfield. The only strategy that she could think of was to wait until he had ridden past and then to bolt for the stables.
With that thought in mind, Cara's eyes surveyed the woods. Because of the abundance of large trees there was a minimum of undergrowth. Pressured by the fear that at any moment Julian would come bursting through the trees, Cara decided on a rough hiding place. Guiding Gentian toward a small thicket, she sprang to the ground, whispering and coaxing the disapproving animal into the circle of bushes. The mare snorted when a branch scratched against her coat, the sound loud in the quiet of the forest. Cara regretted wearing the soft gray riding habit. The ugly brown one would have blended well to camouflage her presence. she hoped the lighter material would not act as a beacon, catching Julian's eye. The success of her plan was based on the theory that he would be moving quickly and not spend time inspecting every clump of trees and bushes.
It was only a matter of moments before the crackling of breaking twigs heralded Julian's approach.
Despite the profusion of leaves on the trees, Tyrr and his rider stood out against the dominant yellows and greens of the woods. Cara, trembling in her hiding place, drew in her breath at the sheer magnificence of her husband. Eyes warm with love, she traced the stark features of his face, lingering at the full lips of his sensuous mouth. In heightened awareness she wondered what it would be like to be made love to by this man whose whole body pulsed with a dangerous masculinity. Her heart fluttered in imagined rapture and she leaned toward him, caught up in the tumult