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“The reason he originally gave for my situation was that he wanted me to come to know the local people and the area, that I would be a better steward of it for having worked the land. But he’s become more and more insistent that the connection between us never be acknowledged. I finally pressed the matter with him and discovered what I think I knew all along: He resents me. He resents my English mother. He resents that my father’s little family took him away from home. The laird doesn’t acknowledge me as his grandson because he wishes I weren’t.”

Cordelia rested her head against his shoulder as they walked on.

“If your parents knew my actual station,” Sebastian said, “they might be kinder to you about our … friendship.”

“For what it’s worth,” she said, “your circumstances don’t change how I feel about our friendship. It does not change how I feel about you.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her fingers. “That you cared for me as Sebastian of the Home Farm is a gift, Cordelia. My only remaining family member does not wish to have me around. I didn’t find a place in London Society when I was there. I’ve felt lost for years. The fact that you saw me and liked who I was, as I was, means the world to me.”

“My parents will likely feel conflicted. They will recognize we’re on even social footing, contrary to what they thought. But if the laird disapproves of you, they will likely feel they ought to as well.”

He paused and turned to face her. “The laird has warned me that, should I attempt to tell your parents my connection to him, he will deny it. He will denounce me as a liar, an opportunist, and I very much fear your parents will believe him.”

She sighed. “I suspect even if they don’t believe him, they will support him in his lie simply to remain in his good graces.”

“I will think of something,” he said. “I’m not willing to simply give up.”

Cordelia brushed her fingertips along his jaw. “Neither am I.”

He wrapped his fingers around hers, then turned his head enough to kiss her hand. “I hope you can sort a way to visit the home farm and continue pursuing your art,” he whispered. “That ought not be taken from you.”

“Is that the only reason you wish for me to visit you?” She kept her voice low.

“It most certainly is not.”

He brushed his lips over hers and cradled her face in his hands, his fingers threading gently into her hair.

“Oh, Sebastian,” she sighed as she hooked her arms about his neck.

He deepened the kiss, moving his hands down her back and wrapping his arms around her waist. She returned with fervor the longing and love he felt.

Somehow, they would find a means of sorting the maze that lay between them and their happiness.

Somehow.