The next morning, Agnes made her way downstairs for breakfast carrying Keiran’s boots, though she’d contemplated tossing them into the ocean several times as she’d cleaned them. It would serve Keiran right. She’d known since the moment she’d met Keiran that he was no gentleman, but she’d allowed his rescue, the kiss, and Clarissa’s words to lull her into thinking she might have been wrong.

Of course, she wanted to be wrong. Because her mother was right about him being as handsome as the devil. And then he’d gone and protected her…

She sighed to herself. It had been a mistake to ignore her intuition. From now on, she would stay far away from Keiran McKenna.

With new purpose, she walked toward the main stairs to make her way to the breakfast room when voices caught her attention.

A woman’s clear laugh carried up the stairs. She’d recognize the sound anywhere. Clarissa’s Aunt Rhona and cousin, Ainsley, had arrived.

Agnes rushed to greet them. She and Ainsley were both eighteen and nearing their nineteenth birthdays. They’d made fast friends when Agnes had visited Ravenscraig Castle, and she was excited to see her friend again.

But the sight of Ainsley stopped her dead in her tracks. More specifically the sight of Ainsley with her hand placed in Keiran’s elbow. Her gregarious cousin-in-law was tucked snugly against his side while she smiled up at him. It made Agnes’s blood run cold.

Keiran spotted her first. He glanced away from Ainsley and, as though he sensed her, looked directly at Agnes.

Swallowing, she dragged herself forward, to greet all of them. Why should it matter that Ainsley was flirting with Keiran? She’d sworn to stay away from him moments before.

“Agnes,” Ainsley cried, stepping away from Keiran and rushing to her side. Agnes’s chest relaxed as she gave Ainsley an awkward hug while still holding the boots.

Keiran walked up next to them and bile rose in her throat again. Could he not stand to be parted from Ainsley for even a moment?

“I’ll take those.” The rumble of his deep voice reverberated through her.

Ainsley stepped back and Keiran reached between them to grab the Hessians. Agnes let them go, and his eyes lit with surprise.

“Lass, these look fantastic. Like new again!” He inspected the boots.

Ainsley sniffed. “I’d ask where you learned to polish boots, but I keep forgetting you’re not of the nobility.”

“Ainsley,” Aunt Rhona chastised.

A blush climbed Agnes’s cheeks. She’d forgotten Ainsley needed to be the center of attention. It didn’t usually bother her but in front of Keiran, somehow, it annoyed her to no end.

Keiran clucked his tongue. “There is pride and honor in work well done.” Then he turned back to her. “Thank ye, lass.”

She nodded, satisfaction making her smile at him. It didn’t make up for what he’d said yesterday, how insignificant he’d made her feel but it did soothe her a bit.

Ainsley returned to her mother, looking rather put out. Agnes followed to greet Aunt Rhona, as the other woman had insisted she call her. But the reunion wasn’t as exciting as Agnes thought it would be. Somehow, the thought of Ainsley pursuing Keiran had Agnes feeling out of sorts. Ainsley was right. Agnes was English and not of the nobility. Someone like Ainsley was far better suited to Keiran.

Not that she cared. Because she didn’t. He wasn’t the proper man for her at all.

Everyone moved to the breakfast room except Keiran, who disappeared to put away his boots, Agnes guessed.

When he returned wearing them, another blush—this one of satisfaction—rose in her cheeks. She looked away quickly, not wanting him to catch her staring, but she could feel his gaze on her.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to say anything as she ate her breakfast and pretended he wasn’t watching her. Ainsley kept up a steady stream of conversation. “I’m in need of more ribbons,” she announced to the group then clapped her hands, looking directly at Keiran. “We should take a ride to the village today.” She beamed at him. “Agnes can come with us.”

Keiran shook his head. “I’ve work to do—”

But Ewan interrupted. “It’s a marvelous idea.” Then he gave Keiran a pointed look. Leaning over, Agnes heard him whisper. “Help me play host.”

Keiran’s return glance might have killed a weaker man. At least he wasn’t excited to spend time with Ainsley. It was some consolation.

But he didn’t seem thrilled to be with her either.

Then she chastised herself. She didn’t want him to be. What was wrong with her today?

But it was settled and an hour later as they were making their way to the village. Agnes had been a decent horsewoman before, but her time in Scotland had improved her skills greatly.

Still, she had a difficult time keeping up with Ainsley and Keiran, try as she might. It irritated her to no end, though she told herself it was just because she didn’t like being left out. It certainly had nothing to with the fact that Ainsley and Keiran looked so natural riding side by side.

The two chatted as they rode. At least Ainsley did. Ainsley’s voice drifted back to her. “And then there was a brawl over who would sit next to me, can ye believe it?”

Agnes tried not to become downtrodden. Why should she care if they were suited to one another?

Finally, they reached the village, and Ainsley dragged them through the ribbon shop and a dressmaker’s. Agnes wanted to yawn with boredom as Ainsley then pointed at the chemist’s shop. As she passed by an adorable cottage, in front of it, a young woman pulled a baby’s cradle into the lane. She looked too young to be married, let alone old enough to be done with a cradle, but she was clearly getting rid of it.

“Excuse me,” she called, quickening her pace toward the woman. “Are you disposing of this cradle?”

“I am,” the girl beamed, looking both excited and relieved. “I’ve no need of it, and I was hoping to bring it to the market to find a buyer.”

“I’ll purchase it from you if you’d be so inclined,” Agnes grinned. It had been well-worn, but she was sure she could make it shine like new.

The woman returned her grin, happiness lighting her eyes. “That would be wonderful. It was my sister’s. With my parents gone, we could use the funds…”

“That’s enough,” a man barked from the doorway. “They don’t need to hear about our problems.”

A chill ran down Agnes’s spine. His voice was harsh, and their situation sounded as though it might be dire.

The girl cleared her throat. “I’ve a lovely canopy that can be hung from it if ye’d like to buy that as well.”

“Oh, I would,” Agnes exclaimed, trying to push aside her ill feelings. The girl rushed inside to get it, and Agnes took a deep breath.

Keiran came up next to her. “What’s this?” he asked.

For whatever reason, Keiran’s presence made her feel so much better. She told herself that anyone would have eased her worry, but somehow she trusted Keiran with her safety. He’d protect her now no matter what happened. It was a realization that made her breath catch as she looked at man standing by her side.

“Clarissa doesn’t have one yet. I thought I could clean and polish this one for next to her bed. I doubt they’ll hire a wet nurse.” Agnes touched the spindles on the side, thinking of the sweet babies who had lain in it before.

“It’s a good idea.” He grunted, his voice a little rough, but his face was soft. As he touched the cradle too, he moved in close to her, and she could feel the heat of his body, his breath tickling her cheek. Her heart pounded. She desperately wanted to look back into his eyes, to see what he was thinking, but she didn’t dare. It was too intimate.

The girl came back out. “Here is the canopy and a blanket.” She handed the folded pieces to Agnes. “May the cradle bring ye both good fortune with yer bairns.”

Agnes made to correct her. To say it was for her cousin and not her and Keiran. But a young man had stepped from the house too. His gaze piercing into them both in a way that made her clutch her hands together.

“Let them move on,” he commanded again, and Agnes knew this was who had chastised the girl before. He was younger than she expected, but there was a hardness about him and a rough look in his eyes that spoke of hard times or a hard man.

Keiran noticed too and he straightened, putting his arm around her as he assessed the young man. Slowly, he answered, “I’ll be back to pick it up this afternoon.”

Agnes blushed for at least the third time that morning. He was going to let this woman think they were married and having a baby. Something inside her melted at the thought. She warmed and ached. It was so strange because she should have worried about the odd look of the other fellow, but she felt so safe with Keiran there.

Ainsley came up behind them. “What are we doing?”

“Getting a cradle,” Kerain answered, but he didn’t move away, nor did he take his gaze off the other man. In fact, his hand tightened at her waist. She was so glad he was there, protecting her, but the fact that he was clearly worried deepened her own.

She paid the woman, acutely aware of Keiran’s touch and the eyes of the other man. She wanted to ask who he was, but she didn’t dare. So instead she carefully wrapped up the linens. Her fingers trembled as she worked, but Keiran didn’t back up, for which she was grateful. Though she had the urge to bury her face in his shoulder. As the young man took two steps closer to them, Keiran tucked her slightly behind his body.

“What will ye do with those?” Ainsley tried again, looking from one person to the other. Agnes didn’t blame her. There was something in the air, like before a storm. It crackled with a feeling she couldn’t name.

She cleared her throat. “I’ll wash and repair them, if they need it.” She gave the young woman a forced smile. “Thank you.”

A baby cried from within the house, and the young man stepped inside. Agnes let out a sigh of relief as the girl followed.

Keiran finally removed his hand from her waist and grabbed the cradle to tuck it to the side of the lane so it wasn’t in the way until he could return for it. “It’s a fine idea, buying them a cradle.”

Ainsley shrugged. “We could have purchased a new one.”

Agnes swallowed. “You’re likely right, but I like tinkering with things. It keeps me busy.”

“No shame in that,” Keiran replied. “Let’s head back. I’ll have to return with a carriage.”

Agnes nodded, groaning to herself at the thought of the horse ride back. She missed his heat, the feel of his hands. She wished she could ride with him.

She wished she could stop thinking such thoughts, but he was tempting if nothing else. She supposed that was the appeal of a rogue.

They made their way back to the public barn and collected their horses. The groom at the stable helped Ainsley mount while Keiran approached to aid her.

Agnes very carefully tucked the blankets into her saddle bag as he reached her side. “Thank you,” she gave him a smile as he threaded his fingers for her to step in.

“Ye’re welcome, lass.” As her hands came to his shoulders the heat once again curled in her belly. This time, she couldn’t blame unease like she had at the little cottage. It was Keiran causing these feelings. She said a silent prayer to get her body under control.

Which was likely why she failed to see the mouse as it skittered past her mount. As her horse bucked, she was nearly unseated. Clutching at the reins, she tried to hang on, but she was falling and she braced herself for impact.

Strong hands caught her as she did, Keiran pulling her against his body. Her arms wrapped around his neck even as her mare took off at a gallop back toward the woods and likely the estate.

He held her close again. His breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “Are ye hurt, lass?”

“No, only frightened.” She swallowed. “I’ll have to rent a mount, I suppose, but I spent my pin money on the cradle.”

“Ye’ll ride back with me,” he said as his hands tightened around her waist.

She pulled back to look at him then, but their embrace was so intimate, any thoughts of what she was about to say flew from her head. All she could do was stare at his lips, praying he’d kiss her again.

Hadn’t she just been praying for something else? But she couldn’t think of what it was as he mounted his horse all the while holding her close. His strength surprised her, as did the feel of his thighs and something else entirely as he settled her on his lap.

Her legs hung off to one side and her arms were slipped around his neck. One of his hands grabbed the reins, the other rested on her hip.

It made her shiver in the best way. “I didn’t know you were so strong,” she said before she could think it through.

He gave a small chuckle. “It’s the only upside to pushing cannons.”

She tilted her head back then. “Was it awful?”

He kicked the horse forward, Ainsley falling in step next to him. “Thank ye for askin’. Most of it was, some of it wasn’t.” He cleared his throat. “Ewan is my brother now, and will be for life after what we went through.”

“Tell me about the bad parts.” Clarissa had told her she should ask. It seemed as good a time as any. Actually, it seemed like the best time to ask. There was an intimacy to their touch and comfort she could provide. And honestly, she needed the distraction from the butterflies flitting around in her stomach. The feel of his body against hers was making her flush with heat.

And Keiran had now saved her twice.

While he clearly said what was on his mind, good or bad, he also protected her when she needed it. And wasn’t that the real reason she’d wanted to marry a gentleman to begin with? She needed a man who would keep them safe and not expose them to the cruelties of the world.

“I dunnae think I should.” He looked at her then, and she could see the pain. The ache that made her hurt more deeply than she thought possible.

Her arms tightened around his neck as her voice dropped so Ainsley couldn’t hear. “Why didn’t you want to sleep in the common room at the inn? I know it was because of the war but was it something specific or just a general feeling of unease?”

She heard him swallow, she was sure of it. “I was attacked in my sleep. A fellow soldier tried to steal my grandfather’s pocket watch, but he near took my life too. If I hadn’t woken up in time he would have.”

Foolish, foolish girl, she chanted to herself. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Don’t say that, Agnes,” he answered quickly. “I don’t want yer pity or yer comfort. I’m not the man fer ye. Don’t forget it.”