Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
I’ve seen enough films with love scenes to get the general gist of it, even if I can’t imagine the real thing taking place.
I could have pretended.
But, no. I have to take the honest approach, right?
And I had been just a tiny bit scared, hoping that if he knew the truth, he would go easy on me.
So much for that.
I ruined everything.
Now he isn’t going to want to touch me at all.
I pull my dress tighter around my body even though I’m covered up, feeling ashamed and dirty. I had been halfway to stripping in front of him, and he wasn’t even interested.
“Hamish,” I hear him say out there, his voice coming clearly through the small window even though he’s stepped out of my line of sight.
“I was just checking over the hides after yesterday’s poachers. You want something?”
“Aye,” Hamish says, his voice giving no indication that he doesn’t believe Finlay’s line.
So, I’m not just unwanted – now I’m a shameful secret.
Boy, I sure had this all wrong.
I know I thought that I was too young and inexperienced for him from the beginning. He could have any woman, someone more experienced.
It was only a moment of madness that made me hope otherwise and go along with his advances.
But, oh….
Part of me is glad I did, even if that small and stolen moment is all I will ever get.
Hamish says something I can’t make out, something about deer maybe, but he uses a lot of words I don’t understand, and some I can’t make out through his accent.
I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I could just slip away while Finlay’s attention is elsewhere. But this isn’t the kind of situation where I can leave.
Hamish would see me if I did, and it would be a long walk back across the estate, during which time Finlay could easily catch up to me in the buggy.
“We’ll put a proposal together,” Finlay says. “Something they can’t ignore. Maybe we can also get a petition going – send it around the village, get it up on the internet, and try to find some influential voices in conservation to share it with. If we get enough signatures, they won’t be able to ignore us. It’ll start to affect their business, and they won’t let that slide.”
“If you think so,” Hamish replies, sounding hesitant. “I don’t know that they care, but we’ll see.”
“I know this online stuff is new-fangled to you,” Finlay says, with a hint of laughter in his voice. Laughter.
He doesn’t even care about me, does he? He’s already moved on.
“I’ll get it all done, Hamish. You just check those other hides for me, will you? I’ll get back to the house and start work.”
“Alright,” Hamish says, and then I hear a few footsteps. I duck instinctively when Hamish’s figure comes into view of the window.
From my glimpse of him, he is a wiry old man with flyaway gray hair, wrapped in patched and repaired outdoor gear that looks to have seen better days. In short, he is exactly what I would picture from his voice.
“Alana.”
The whisper is low and urgent; if I were anywhere else, I might think I imagined it. However, knowing that Finlay is out there trying to hide my presence, all I can do is whisper back.
“Yes?”
“I’ll tell you when he’s in the next hide, and we can make a break for the buggy. Yes?”
“Yes,” I reply. My heart sinks again at how much he wants to hide the fact that he’s with me.
But there isn’t much time to think about that.
I almost jump out of my skin when I hear Finlay whisper, “now!” I lunge for the exit of the hide and out into the open air.
Before I have a chance to adjust to being under the open sky again, he bundles me toward the buggy, and then we are driving, with me slumped in the passenger seat out of sight until we’re a fair distance away.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, miserable, as I sit up and stare out the window at that magnificent view. It was nice to see it. But it’s a shame I will never get a real look at the deer. I guess that chance is over now.
“What for?” Finlay asks, glancing over at me, and then focuses on driving again. Up ahead, the house is waiting on the hill, seeming to stand out watchfully as we approach.
“You had to lie because of me,” I say. In truth, I don’t really know what I’m sorry for, except that nothing has gone as planned.
Maybe I just want him to say he’s sorry. To explain that he doesn’t want me now. As if that will make me feel better at all.
Finlay chuckles quickly. “No, I had to lie because of Hamish,” he says. His humor confused me for a moment.