if she could have borrowed a mount without anyone realizing. Sorcha bit the inside of her cheek and racked her brain for a reason to be in such an awkward position. And to put the poor groom in such an awkward position. She really should go back to the house. But to do so would be to abandon her pursuit of a Lycan for her own, wouldn’t it?
“Johnny,” she began quietly, batting her eyelashes in what she hoped was a coquettish move. Instead, she probably looked like she had dirt in her eye. “Do ye remember yesterday when Lady Madeline and I went ta the village?”
“Of course, miss.” The man nodded. “I accompanied you myself,” he said.
“I lost something there.” She looked at him. And waited.
His eyes scrunched together. She’d lost her mind. He would never fall for it.
“Was it something of value, miss?” he asked. He cared.
Oh, dear. He had a conscience. It was too bad Sorcha had abandoned hers back in her chambers.
“Oh, very much value,” she said, praying it was dark enough to hide the nervous tic above her eyebrow.
“Do you remember where you lost it?” he asked. “I can go and look for it. I’ll do it right now.” Such a dear young man. Guilt bit at Sorcha’s lust for a beast of her own, but she pushed past it.
“I don’t remember, but I think if I went back there, I might be able ta retrace my steps and find it. Do ye think ye could take me?”
“Certainly. I think the duchess would grant me leave.”
“Oh, I just talked ta the duchess and she did grant ye leave.” She would be forgiven for her lie, wouldn’t she?
Certainly she would.
“Then first thing tomorrow,” he replied with a nod.
She shook her head frantically and blinked as though she blinked back tears. “Ye doona understand how important it is.” She grasped his hands in hers and squeezed. She knew the very moment she had won him over. It was when he sighed heavily. “The duchess said ye can take me tonight. Right now.” She waited for his response.
“If ye say so, miss,” was his only reply. “I’ll just ready a carriage.”
Sorcha paced from one side of the barn to the next as he prepared their conveyance. Nothing good could come of this, could it? Well, perhaps something could. Perhaps a Lycan would fall in love with her and claim her under the light of the moon. Well, not tonight’s moon, since it wasn’t full. But some day. Sooner rather than later, hopefully.
“Do you have a companion, miss?” Johnny asked as he handed her inside the carriage.
Blast it. No companion. “I do, but the poor dear has taken ill. And I do so want ta go ta the village tonight, ye see.”
He looked doubtful for the first time all night.
“It was my mother’s. The item I lost.” She really should have decided what that item was. “It belonged to my mother.” When he still looked undecided, she continued.
“She’s dead.” Certainly her late mother would forgive her subterfuge.
“I’m sorry to hear that, miss,” Johnny said, his eyes softening.
“Now do ye ken why this is so important ta me?”
Because my entire world is hinged upon the impropriety of this event.
The young groom nodded and said, “We’ll find it, miss. I won’t stop looking until I do.”
Oh, he would break her heart into a million pieces if he didn’t stop being so wonderful. He’d be terribly disappointed in her when she slipped away from him in search of her Lycans once they reached Folkestone. But a lass had to take matters of the heart into her own two hands if that lass wanted to be successfully married to a beast of her own.
Chapter Three
Alec’s hunter ate up the ground as he raced east, farther and farther from Castle Hythe. If only he could lead those flea-ridden wolves so far from Sorcha that they would forget the way back to her. Wishful thinking, he knew, but it was the only thought that calmed his nerves.
What the devil was wrong with the lass? She had actually leaned out her bedchamber window trying to catch the attention of Radbourne and his sycophantic pups. The littlest witch had to be the most difficult in her whole coven.
Elspeth was reasonable. Blaire was pragmatic. Rhiannon knew her own mind, but she made wise decisions. And Cait… Well, it was best not to think about Cait. Even so, Cait had never been as difficult to deal with as Sorcha.