to feel guilty either.
“Is there anyone who holds a special place in your affections?” he asked at last.
“Of course.”
Hugh went still, his hands tightening on the reins as hope rose at those easily confessed words. He hadn’t expected to be so lucky. But if she held a tendre for someone, all he need do was to arrange for her to marry the fellow. He would then settle some money on the couple and his troubles would be over.
“Eada is like a mother to me,” she said, bursting his bubble. “She is a wonderful woman. Very special.”
Hugh rolled his eyes at that, finding it hard to see anything special or wonderful about the hag. But, in any case, the girl obviously hadn’t understood his question. It seemed he would have to be more specific. He should have expected that, of course. She was an uneducated peasant, no doubt simple-minded.
Willa shifted about on the saddle before him, then gave her head a shake that sent several strands of golden hair up to catch again on his unshaven cheeks. Scrubbing one hand down his face as if removing cobwebs caught there, Hugh thought with some irritation that he should have taken the time to bathe and shave before seeking out the hag’s cottage. He hadn’t been in the mood for such niceties at the time, however. After learning the particulars of his inheritance, he had made the two-day ride to Hillcrest with Lucan as company. He had stopped at Hillcrest just long enough to look around, ask a few questions, and get directions on where to find this Willa who had been left to him. It was then that he had heard about the hag, Eada. His uncle’s men and servants had been eager to warn him of her witchy ways, but less happy to part with news of the girl the creature was said to guard. From what he had seen, the descriptions of the crone had been right on the mark, he thought, recalling her spooky air.
Shaking the memory of her out of his head, he turned his attention to the matter at hand. “I fear you misunderstood me when I asked if there was anyone who held a special place in your affections,” he told her. “What I meant was, is there any particular man for whom you have feelings?”
The question had her swiveling to peer at him and Hugh found himself once more with a face full of the soft golden strands. Those strands clung lovingly, forcing him to again remove them. They were driving him mad. It wasn’t just the tickling sensation they caused, but the scent, as well. Her hair smelled like sunshine and lemons. Hugh had never before felt any attraction to the scent of lemons and sunshine, but coming from her head, the combination seemed delicious. Almost as delicious as the feel of her backside rubbing against his groin with every step his mount took. Why had he offered to give her a ride back to the cottage, he wondered with disgust. He had thought it a good opportunity to speak with her away from the hag, but he was finding her nearness terribly distracting at a time when he needed his wits about him.
“I am sorry, my lord. I misunderstood.” She turned further to give him a contrite glance. The girl was, apparently, wholly unaware of the fact that the movement pressed her breasts against his chest and arm, and her butt firmly against his now growing manhood.
Hugh let his breath out in resignation. He had been semi-hard since he had first settled her on the saddle. Now he could have been a flag-bearer.
“Aye. Well,” he said gruffly, wondering if she could feel what she was doing to him. “So . . . is there any particular man you have feelings for?”
Much to his relief, she shifted to face front again, easing his discomfort somewhat. Unfortunately, her answer wasn’t quite as pleasing.
“Of course, my lord. You.”
“Me?” Hugh’s upper body went as stiff as his lower. “Surely you jest, girl? You have just met me. How could you claim an affection for me?”
“How could I not?” From the face she turned to him, he guessed that she was surprised by the very question. He puzzled over her answer even as he shifted behind her, vainly trying to put a little space between them. He wished with all his heart that she would simply sit still.
“You are to be my husband,” she reasoned as if it