Chapter Four

Camdyn pulled his heavy coat close. It had snowed last night and with each step, his foot sank up to his ankle. The air was cold, but what was worse was the dampness. Such winter weather bled into the bones. He would be pouring a glass of whisky and building the fire up when he returned to the manor.

Sheena trudged behind him, head down and hands shoved into her pockets. Her coat wasn't as thick as his and Camdyn stopped to unwind the scarf from around his neck and when Sheena reached him, he stepped in front of her.

Sheena glared up, her cheeks and the tip of her nose red from the cold.

Camdyn took the scarf and wound it around her neck.

"I doona need yer scarf."

Yet, she didn't take it off or give it back, but tucked her chin inside and marched on, both of their breaths coming out as puffs of smoke.

Even if they did manage to get her wagon unstuck, he could not let her leave in this cold, especially since the sky threatened more snow. Though, if Sheena insisted, there was little he could do.

She also would not make it home in time for Christmas, which was the day after tomorrow, leaving them both very much alone for the holiday.

He'd need to convince her to stay.

Camdyn bit back a grin. Sheena MacGregor was one stubborn lass. He'd not seen much of it in London, but she'd been determined since she arrived at his home and Camdyn found that this may be one of his more favorite personality traits.

The two finally broke through the woods and Sheena walked to the wagon. Camdyn may have said that he'd assist, but not until she asked.

Sheena kicked the snow from around the stuck wagon wheels and then stomped on the frozen slush and mud. No matter how much she stomped and kicked, the surface merely crackled and splintered but beneath and around the wheel was frozen solid.

"We need shovels or axes, and my horses to pull the wagon free."

"It will not work, Sheena."

"Miss Sheena," she bit out and turned to him. "Yes, it will."

She stomped past Camdyn on the way back to the manor.

"Chopping at the ice and forcing the wagon wheel could damage it, making it impossible for you to leave."

She paused, her shoulders stiffening. She knew that he was right.

"Then what do you propose I do?" Sheena demanded as she wheeled on him, fists on her hips.

"Maybe this afternoon it will warm enough to melt, and we can use the horses to pull the wagon free."

Sheena blew out a sigh. "Verra well."

With that she turned and marched away from him again.

She had to leave!

She needed to get away from Walsingham and could not remain at Oakley Manor a moment more.

It ached to look at him and Sheena was no longer certain if it was from longing for what had been, or from the pain and humiliation suffered in front of her uncle and brothers.

Though anyone may have been as gullible as she. Walsingham did charm and further, he was handsome with a smile that was always slightly crooked, which caused her heart to melt.

No! Her heart would not be melting. Not any more. The only thawing and melting that needed to be done was the ground and mud around the wagon wheels.

Blast! She glanced up at the sky when a snowflake landed on her nose. It was a light snow and she hoped that it ended soon because she needed no further hindrance in her leaving this place.

"I will have the fire built up in the parlor," Walsingham announced as they reached the manor. "And ask for refreshments and something to drink to warm our blood."

"Thank you, but I will wait in my chamber until it is warm enough outside to move the wagon."

She marched past him and up the stairs.

"I will be in the parlor if you change your mind," Walsingham called after her.

She could not spend time with him—especially alone.

Sheena reached her chamber and marched to the stove in hope of bringing warmth to her hands and taking the chill from the chamber, but it was cold. Nor was there coal or kindling. She did a slow turn. The room had been completely cleaned and her valise sat next to the door as if waiting for her to vacate the estate.

Well, that was her plan, but…She sighed and pulled her coat close and burrowed down into the scarf.

It smelled of him. She hadn't noticed outside, but now the scent of lavender and citrus enveloped her, bringing back memories of when she'd been the happiest.

She inhaled deeply and then reminded herself that while she had been happy then, her heart had also been crushed not long after and she pulled the scarf from her neck.

Taking her valise and his scarf, Sheena left the chamber and then marched down the stairs. She left the valise by the front door and entered the parlor with the scarf in hand.

Walsingham was sitting in a chair beside a roaring fire, his feet out before him, and sipping a liquid that much resembled whisky, which she knew was not possible, unless it was the English version, which was inferior to what the Scots distilled, especially her family.

"This is yours. Thank ye."

Walsingham stood, reached out and took the scarf before tossing it on the back of the settee. "Let me get you something to warm your bones."

Sheena glanced about but there was no tea service.

Instead, Walsingham walked to the sideboard and poured her a glass of what he was drinking and pressed it into her hand.

Sheena frowned and then sniffed, not certain if she wished to drink an inferior whisky.

Walsingham chuckled and returned to his chair. "Please, join me." He indicated to the matching chair beside the fire. The warmth drew her, and she reluctantly accepted his offer and sank down into the chair.

He then took his seat and sipped again, watching her over the rim of his glass.

Sheena took a small sip.

And stilled because the taste was all too familiar.

"You recognize the taste?" he asked.

"Why would you ask?" she countered.

"You appeared puzzled."

"Perhaps it is because a gentleman doesna usually offer whisky to a miss."

The question that she could not ask was why Walsingham had just given her MacGregor whisky. How had he come by it? Was it delivered to someone her family could no longer trust?

Was this a trap and did he still hope to gain information into her family's smuggling?