Page 37 of Kidnapping Cordelia

“I’m sure he will be most appreciative,” Delia replied, to which comment Hamilton only snorted.

“He’ll send me off with a flea in my ear and tell me to stop sticking my nose in other people’s business, but that’s what I do, and no one ever got rid of me using such tactics as those, I can assure you.”

Delia did not doubt he was correct. Watching as the footmen unloaded the rest of the luggage, Delia went back outside, looking up at a sky that was a vivid shade of blue. The sun shone on her face, warming her cheeks, and for once the wind had dropped, making it feel like spring had arrived at last. She did not much want to discuss her refusal to marry Muir with Luella. Not at the moment, and thoughts of escaping before the young woman returned were too urgent to be denied.

Delia jumped as a cold, wet nose pressed against her fingers, followed by the swift swipe of a warm tongue. She looked down to see Murdoch watching her expectantly.

“Good morning, Murdoch,” she said, stroking the great dog's head.

Murdoch wagged his tail, still staring at her.

“Was there something you wanted?”

“Ooof!” His low, deep bark made her smile, and she nodded.

“It is a good day for a walk, I agree. Should you like me to come with you?”

“Ooof!”

“Very well, just let me fetch my cloak,” she told him, not needing any further excuse to escape, and hurried off, unsurprised to see Murdoch waiting patiently on the doorstep for her when she returned. “Come on then, show me the way,” she said, smiling as Murdoch bounded joyfully ahead, before turning to watch if she was following.

He led her out of the castle and along a well-trodden path while seagulls shrieked overhead. The path eventually took them beside the edge of a sheer cliff that looked out upon the North Sea. Today the water was calm and rivalled the blue of any she had seen when she had journeyed through the Mediterranean with her brother.

She sighed, remembering that little excursion had been arranged to remove her from society last year. It had been a terrible season for Delia. Somehow, she always managed to say not only the wrong thing, but the thing that made people stare at her as though she had grown a second head. If only she could learn to hold her tongue, she might have survived, but instigating a one-sided conversation with roast suckling pig at Lady Banbury’s lavish dinner party had been the last straw. She had only been funning, as the man sitting on her left had been the dullest creature on God’s green earth, but she had become a figure of ridicule and Wrexham had decided the best thing was to take her away until everyone forgot about it. She sighed, pausing to tie the ribbons of her bonnet tighter. The wind had picked up this close to the cliff’s edge, billowing her cloak out behind her like a sail.

“My lady!”

Delia turned at the sound, a little disconcerted to discover Hamilton waving at her. She waved back, standing still, as that seemed to be what he expected.

“Thank ye for waiting,” he said, sounding a trifle breathless. “I saw ye from the bedroom window and thought I would come and have a word. I just wanted to be certain I had no offended ye. I am a deal too free with my words and my opinions, I’m afraid but I was only baddering ye.”

When Delia stared at him blankly, he translated.

“I was larking about, teasing ye.”

“Oh, yes, I gathered that much, sir,” she said, looking at him with interest. All three brothers were very similar in looks, the same broad shoulders, the same tawny colouring, and yet Hamilton seemed far more gregarious than Lyall who was more taciturn, and even than Muir who seemed to pitch from gregarious to reserved in a short space of time. Of course, she did not know any of the brothers well enough to judge, but the distinction seemed quite apparent on the surface, at least.

“Ah, call me Hamilton. There’s nae need to be so formal out here. Wildsyde is a place apart, ye ken. Not quite the real world.”

“Yes!” Delia exclaimed, pleased to have her own thoughts spelled out so clearly. “Yes, that’s exactly how it feels. Like time moves slower here somehow.”

Hamilton nodded sagely, apparently taking her words seriously. “That’s it. There’s a magic here. The others dinnae ken it, for they live here all year round give or take a week here and there, and even Muir is nae absent for long, but I live in Wick now, and ’tis a bustling place, bursting with life of all sorts. It’s a place for a man to make himself, but there’s nae magic. I miss this place a good deal, but I have things to do, a name to make for myself, and so I must make my fortune before I can return.”

Delia regarded him with interest. “You mean to return, then?”

“Oh, aye, one day. When I have a wife and intend to settle down and have some bairns. God willing, I shall build my wife a fine house and we’ll be peaceful here. But for now, I am a busy man,” he added, winking at her.

“Luella told me you run the herring boats, and that you have recently bought a distillery?”

He laughed softly and nodded. “Aye, something like that,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Am I to take from that you are rather more successful than that description implies?” Delia asked, knowing she ought not to ask such a thing, but she was too curious not to.

“Yer a shrewd lassie,” he said, stooping to pick up a stone and throw it out to sea. “And aye, I’m doing well enough. Shipping is making my fortune for the moment, but I have high expectations for the distillery, too. The world is moving fast, Delia, and if a man wishes to keep up, he must move fast too. Why are ye nae marrying my brother?”

The non-sequitur took her by surprise, and it took her a moment to gather her wits.

“You are very bold, sir,” she said, more as a statement of fact than a criticism. He seemed to take it as such too, and only nodded.