Free The Runaway McBride by Elizabeth Thornton

that brought them face-to-face. “You mean it wasn’t you in the grounds the other night, stalking me when I came out for a breath of fresh air? And you didn’t go to my room and go through my correspondence?”
    “No,” he said violently. “I did neither of those things.” Not yet, he hadn’t.
    He’d trusted his psychic powers to forewarn him of any threat to Faith. The trouble was, he was a novice. He wasn’t easy with the gift Granny McEcheran had passed on and, as far as possible, he tried to ignore it. What a complacent fool he had been.
    His eyes searched hers. “Did he threaten you? Would you recognize him again?”
    Her gaze was level, measuring him. Finally, she gave a shaky laugh. “No. In fact, I’m not sure of anything. Perhaps my imagination was playing tricks on me, or perhaps one of the girls came out for a breath of fresh air, too. She’d be breaking the rules and wouldn’t want to be caught.”
    “Any other episodes?”
    She made a face. “I get the odd feeling occasionally that someone is watching me, and the fine hairs on my neck begin to rise.”
    James nodded. “I know the feeling. You should trust it.”
    “But when I turn around, either no one is there or no one is looking at me. I’ve become nervous, I suppose, since I put that advertisement in the London papers.”
    Her voice suddenly died, and she frowned as though she were annoyed with herself for telling him so much.
    They walked on in silence.
    “Maybe,” James finally said, “someone is following you. Maybe it is related to the advertisement you put in the papers. Who is Madeline Maynard, and why are you trying to find her?”
    He’d hoped that Alex could help him discover the woman’s identity, but Alex had left for destinations unknown, and James hardly knew where to begin to look. Apart from that, he wanted to be discreet. He didn’t want anyone to know what Faith was up to in case he stirred up a hornet’s nest. On the other hand, she’d said that someone was stalking her. Maybe the time for discretion was past.
    Her lips tightened. “That’s personal business and can be of no interest to you. So, what brings you here? What is it you want to say to me?”
    A quick look at her profile convinced him that he wasn’t going to get any answers out of her, at least for the moment. He suppressed his impatience and took a moment to frame his thoughts. “I thought... that is . . . I hoped . . .”
    When he faltered, she looked at him curiously. He couldn’t tell her the truth, but the explanation he’d hit upon seemed feeble now that he had to say the words aloud.
    “I hoped,” he said, “that we could lay the past to rest. Life is too short to carry grudges, and we were very young”—he smiled a little—“and hot and impetuous. I always wondered what had happened to you. You did not leave a forwarding address.” The old feelings of betrayal were beginning to stir, and he finished hurriedly, “When I saw your advertisement, I knew I had to trace you if only to assure myself that things were going well with you.”
    She said incredulously, “You went to all this trouble just to tell me that? I buried the past a long time ago. Believe me, I’m not carrying a grudge. Anyway, you could have written to me care of Mr. Pritchard, couldn’t you?” She gave a choked laugh. “I forgot. Writing isn’t your forte, is it? I think I can count on one hand the number of notes you wrote to me from Scotland.” She shook her head. “Let’s not go down that road, or we’ll be here till doomsday, and I haven’t got the time. I have to look over my notes for the lesson I’m giving, and, oh, mix with parents of my students. If it’s forgiveness you’re looking for, you have it.”
    “I am not looking for forgiveness!”
    “In fact, I can say now that your engagement to another woman was the best thing that ever happened to me. It made me realize that I was stronger than I knew.”
    He took exception to her easy