Jen straightened from her crouch over the rose bed. Mrs. Evans was new, yet up until now, she’d always appeared to be completely in control. Something or someone had clearly upset her serene existence. “A man?”
“He’s quite determined and…loud.”
“Loud.” Frowning, she tugged off her garden gloves. “Is it my Cousin Edward?”
“No, Ms. Douglas.” The housekeeper brushed her frizzy brown hair out of worried eyes. “I don’t know who he is. He wouldn’t say.”
She assumed it was some salesman or long-lost relative again. In the five weeks since she’d inherited the estate, she’d been approached by a horde of supposed financial planners, a woman claiming to be her cousin, and two men pledging undying love.
“Like all the others, tell him to go away.” Swiping the clumps of dirt off her jeans, Jen turned back to her vision for her grandmother’s garden. If she put a line of tea roses down the edge of the terrace, the colors next spring would be extraordinary. “You can take care of it, Evans.”
“I did tell him. I even closed the front door on him.” Her housekeeper flapped her hands in distress once more. “But he yelled through the door he wasn’t going until he talked to his Jenny.”
His Jenny.
A trembling ache bloomed from the center of her heart, breaking it all over again. She’d been very busy during the last few weeks, and it had been a relief. She hadn’t had time to think of Scotland or her stupidity in falling in love with a man who didn’t do love and permanence. After she’d mailed the ring, she’d purposefully turned her attention to her new life. A life of endless responsibilities to the family heritage.
It couldn’t be him. Not Cameron Steward.
Sure, there’d been some publicity when her grandfather had died. She’d spent a few short minutes imagining Cam reading the news and riding to her rescue. Dreaming of ridiculous expectations, though, had stopped after a few days. And it had been weeks since the news reports.
She’d been careful when mailing the gem. She’d made sure her name wasn’t on the package. The temptation to write him a note trying to explain had been squashed. What did it matter? By this time, the fun-loving Cameron Steward had probably flitted from Amanda to another woman.
He couldn’t have found her because of the ring.
Why would he even want to? He had it back now.
“What should I do?” Evans waved her hand at the mansion standing behind her. “Should I call the police?”
Jen glanced past the waving hand to see a familiar figure pacing by the mews. The way the man moved, prowled, was instantly recognizable.
Shock raced through her body, making her stiffen.
The man was Cameron Steward. From the tight way he held his body and the taut pace of his steps, it became quite clear. He wasn’t here to rescue her and be her knight in shining armor. He was here because he was angry at her for taking the ring.
But she’d returned it to him within weeks.
Wasn’t that enough?
“Oh, no.” Her housekeeper glanced over her shoulder, following Jen’s stricken gaze. “The gall of the man. I’ll go and get some of the men to throw him off the grounds.”
He drew closer, and now Jen could see the power of his shoulders and thighs as he strode across the vast green grass of the lawn. All of the yearning she’d battled to suppress rose inside. The wish to taste his skin one more time, to be held in those strong arms, to feel safe.
Still, she wasn’t safe with Cam.
Her heart wasn’t, and from the look of him, her body wasn’t either.
She took a step away, wanting to run from this confrontation and run from the yearning.
“Don’t ye dare,” he roared from across the lawn. “Don’t ye dare run again, Jenny!”
“Goodness.” Evans jumped at the noise. “Does the man know you?”
Yes, he knew her well. And she knew him. If she tried to run from this, he’d follow her until he’d pinned her down.
She had stolen from him.
She owed him his pound of flesh.
Straightening her shoulders, she took in a long, slow breath. If he was here to yell at her for taking the ring, she’d hear him out. It was the least she could do. “I’ll take care of this. You can go back to the house.”
“Yes, Ms. Douglas.” The older woman scurried down the path leading toward the front of the house, making a large circle around the furious man approaching.
Jen could see his eyes now, the brown and gold both gleaming with animosity. His mouth, the mouth that had given her such pleasure with his kisses and such pain with the words he’d whispered to Amanda, was twisted into a tight grimace. “Stay right where ye are.”