by Meara Platt
Looking at him was like watching the sun rise over the rugged, Highlands hills.
Breathtaking.
“Cheyne, ye never mentioned John’s wife was so beautiful,” Lucas said, tossing his brother a frown.
“Aye,” Matthew said, winking at Jenny. “Welcome to the family, Jenny. Ye’re a sight for sore eyes, ye are. We all expected John to marry a trashy trollop. Never met a lad with worse taste in–”
“Och, Matthew. Shut up,” Lyon said.
Heat rose in Jenny’s cheeks and she began to fidget uncomfortably. No doubt, Lyon believed Matthew’s words had embarrassed her. She wasn’t embarrassed so much as worried the three brothers talking together might figure out the truth before she was ready to confess it. She wasn’t John Lyon’s type.
They’d all noticed it immediately.
Her best friend, the Jenny who had married John, was lively and fun-loving. Perhaps a little reckless at times. But she wasn’t a trollop. Yes, she would have bedded John before marriage given the opportunity. But she hadn’t done it. She’d gone to him with her virtue intact. That had to count for something.
Did wanting to give her body to the man she loved make her friend a trollop?
If so, she was in trouble herself.
She physically ached to be in Lyon’s arms. “I had better go check on little Johnny.” She excused herself and hurried down the hall to her bedchamber. She caught snatches of their remarks to Lyon. A stone must have dropped on John’s head to make him choose so wisely. Beautiful lass, dinna ye think so, Cheyne?
She heard the deep rumble of Lyon’s voice. “Aye, she’s beautiful. Like a selkie risen from the mists of the sea.”
Jenny rushed into her bedroom and quickly shut the door behind her. She closed her eyes and leaned against it, only then releasing the breath she’d been holding.
“Miss Jenny, is anything wrong?”
“No, Mairi. The duke has returned with his brothers. They’re a little overwhelming when all three are together.”
Mairi giggled. “Och, Matthew and Lucas are fun lads. They’ll have ye laughing. The duke is the dour one, but that does no’ stop any of the women in town from wanting to bed him. He’s a fine looking man, dinna ye think? Takes his responsibilities very seriously though.”
“I see that.”
“He wasn’t always this way. He used to enjoy himself before he inherited his title. They say it was Davina what broke his heart and stole his joy. She left him for an old goat of a duke. She’s a wealthy widow now, and mark my words, she’s coming back to reclaim his heart.”
“She is?” Jenny wasn’t jealous so much as worried for him. The woman was trouble. Surely, he understood this now and would have nothing to do with her.
“Me mum is personal maid to Davina’s mum, and she told me Davina will be here in time for the Pagan Moon celebration. She’ll offer herself up tae him like a virgin sacrifice, only she ain’t no virgin and has no’ been one since she was a lass of fifteen. She’ll use her body to get what she wants. She always has. What do ye think, Miss Jenny? Can she steal his heart again?”
“I don’t know. I hope not. He deserves someone who will love him and cherish him. He deserves someone who will be true to her marriage vows.”
Mairi nodded. “Aye. Too bad ye don’t have a sister. I think he would like someone like ye.”
Jenny turned away, horrified and aching.
She crossed to the basin and ewer on her table to wash her hands and face. The chore also served the purpose of avoiding further conversation about Lyon. “I had better brush my hair. I must look a wind-tossed sight.”
“Och, ye look lovely.” Since Johnny was still sleeping soundly in his cradle, Mairi took the hairbrush out of her hands and attempted to put order to Jenny’s tumbling curls. She styled her hair in a braided chignon. But it wasn’t pulled tight, just loosely bound to allow the soft waves of her hair to follow their natural curves. “Ye look lovely, Miss Jenny.”
“Thank you, Mairi. Do you think I ought to change out of my gown? Put on something a little more elegant? I don’t have anything suitable and it feels wrong to don their mother’s altered gowns.”
“Och, but ye must. The only one who’ll notice is His Grace, and he wants ye to make use o’ them. His brothers are oblivious to such things. Most men are. His Grace knows, but only because his mother sent him the modiste’s bills to pay. Otherwise, do ye think he’d ken what gowns she keeps in her wardrobe?” She grunted. “It would no’ even cross his mind.”
Jenny nodded. “The pale gray silk is lovely. I can wear it with a pink ribbon to wrap just below my bosom.”
“Right, that should give it just the youthful touch. Ye dinna want to be looking like an old lady.”
“And it’s suitable for afternoon tea.”
Mairi nodded and helped her to don the gown after carefully putting away the white dimity and the pale green pelisse. “If ye weren’t already married, those three bucks would be chasing after ye, mark my words.”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “I hardly think so.”
“Well, perhaps not the duke. No one touches his heart anymore. But his brothers? Ye’d have to beat them away with a stick.”
Jenny crossed to Johnny’s cradle, expecting Johnny to be awake by now. She was eager to introduce him to his uncles, but he was sleeping soundly.
She sighed.
Perhaps she ought to wake him, otherwise he’d be up all night and she would have to be up with him. She touched his forehead to make certain he wasn’t coming down with a fever, but he felt just fine. Not too hot. Not too cold. “Mairi, wake him and bring him downstairs in half an hour if he doesn’t wake up sooner.”
“Aye, Miss Jenny.”
After giving Johnny another glance and a quick kiss to his forehead, she left her chamber to meet Lyon and his brothers in his study. As she neared it, she overheard their animated conversation. The study door was slightly ajar.
When she realized they were speaking of their nephew, she began to think she ought to have roused Johnny and brought him downstairs with her. Even if he was still sleepy, he could have curled up in her arms while his uncles whispered and cooed over him.
More important, their attention would have been diverted from her to their little nephew. She was about to turn back and head upstairs when Lyon stepped out of the study. “I thought I heard ye out here, lass. Don’t be bashful. Come join us.”
She took his offered arm, an unnecessary formality, but she did not mind touching him. His brothers rose to greet her as he led her in. She responded politely, but her attention was fixed on Lyon. Could anyone blame her? He had looked devastatingly handsome when tired and covered in road dust. Now, he looked as magnificent as a warrior god come down from Mount Olympus.
His dark hair appeared freshly washed and the damp waves were combed off his brow. His scent was sandalwood and male heat. She would make a fool of herself if she got too close, behaving like an untrained pup who wanted to sniff and lick its master.
Indeed, ridiculous.
His clothes were befitting a duke, impeccably tailored to his rugged physique. She’d seen him without his shirt. Dear heaven! She knew what his body looked like beneath the superfine of his jacket and his crisp, white Savile Row shirt.
She blinked, hoping to expunge the vision of his muscled torso from her memory.
Suddenly, Lyon was cupping her face and frowning.
He stared into her eyes. His lips were so close, she want to reach up on tiptoes to kiss him. It felt like the natural thing to do, even though it was the worst thing she could do. “Jenny, have ye got something in your eye?”
Oh, heavens!
If only he knew what she’d been thinking. Would he guess? Worse, would his brothers guess? The three of them were staring at her. “Just an eyelash. I think it’s out now.”
“Are ye sure? Ye look pained.”
She nodded. “I’m sure. It’s out. Thank you for your concern.”
He hesitated a mo
ment before lowering his hand from her chin and stepping away. His touch had felt like a fiery caress. Indeed, her body was now on fire.
Her face still tingled where his fingers had touched.
She’d hoped the two week absence had cured her of this man. But no, she ached for him worse than ever before. Sighing, she took a step back because she needed physical distance from him. He roused an overwhelming hunger in her. “Oh, do you hear that?”
Lyon frowned. “I don’t hear anything, lass.”
“I think it’s Johnny waking up. Excuse me, gentlemen. I’ll return in a few moments with your nephew.” She smiled at them. “Feel free to fuss and dote over him to your heart’s content.”
She ran out of the room and hurried upstairs. “Mairi, is he still sleeping?”
“Aye, Miss Jenny.” The girl set down her knitting and rose to join her beside the cradle. “Not so much as a peep out of the lad.”
Jenny touched his forehead again. It was still cool to the touch, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. “He’s been napping more than two hours. I think I had better wake him or he’ll keep the entire household up tonight.”
But as she lifted him into her arms, the blanket fell away and she noticed an enormous welt on the boy’s leg. She peered into the cradle and noticed a dead spider on the mattress.
Mairi noticed it as well and emitted an ear piercing scream.
Within moments, Lyon and his brothers were pounding up the stairs. They burst into her bedchamber. Lyon was the first one in. “Jenny?”
Mairi was still shrieking.
Lyon motioned for Lucas to take her out of the room.
Jenny was relieved. Screaming at the top of one’s lungs was not going to do Johnny any good. Nor did it help her already frayed nerves. “He was bitten by a spider,” she said shakily, holding back tears as she showed him the welt on Johnny’s leg. “And now he won’t wake up. Lyon, why won’t he open his eyes?”
He took the boy from her arms. “He’s breathing evenly, lass. That’s a good sign. Matthew, let’s have a look at that spider.”
He spoke so calmly, she almost believed all would be well.
“Ye want me to pick that thing up?” Matthew did not look pleased. “Are ye sure it’s dead? Och, don’t frown at me, Cheyne. I’ll do it.” He used his handkerchief to pick up the spindly-legged creature.
Jenny wanted to run from the room, but she wasn’t going anywhere until Johnny was out of danger. “It isn’t the poisonous kind,” he said, taking a moment to study the insect carcass.
She was relieved. “But Johnny isn’t waking up.”
“He will, lass. Give it time.”
“How much time?” Jenny wanted to take the boy from his arms, but Lyon would not give him up.
“Lass, yer hands are shaking. Let me hold him for now.”
Jenny gave in, knowing she was still too agitated. “What can I do?” Even her voice trembled.
“Nothing. The spider’s sting is working its way through the lad’s system. It won’t do him any lasting damage, but I’ll try my best to counter the venom. It will ease his pain.” He crossed to her bureau and the ewer of water and basin atop it. With the boy still in his arms, he hastily dipped his handkerchief into the water. “Good, it’s cold.”
He then motioned for Jenny to sit in the rocking chair Matthew had drawn beside the hearth. “I’ll hand ye the bairn, but not while ye’re standing. Ye’re not steady on yer feet and I don’t want ye to stumble.”
Would he never forget her cowardice on the cliff walk?
She was overset, but certainly not going to fall to pieces when Johnny needed her. She frowned lightly and sat in the chair. “I should have realized something was wrong when he failed to wake up. I checked his forehead but it was cool to the touch and he was sleeping so peacefully. I should have checked on him sooner.”
She’d given her sacred vow to protect her best friend’s child.
“Apply the cold compress to his leg,” Lyon said, handing the child to her and helping to position him on her lap. “Keep his leg elevated. Aye, just like that. I’ll be back in a moment.”
“Where are you going?” Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to cry. She needed to keep her head clear and remain strong.
She had plenty of time to fall apart once Johnny was out of danger.
“We need to ice his leg. There’s a block of it in the cellar. I’ll be right back.”
Jenny stared at the boy and silently prayed for his quick recovery. She wanted to see his cheerful smile. “Wake up, Johnny. I promise I won’t complain when you grab my earrings and try to tug them off my ears. You can suck on my chin to ease your teething any time you wish. You can pull my hair because you think we’re playing a game of ouch.”
She waited for him to respond, to squawk and struggle out of her arms. He lay limply in her arms. “Oh, Johnny.”
She kissed his damp brow.
Matthew knelt beside her. “Cheyne will make it right. He always does. He willna let the bairn come to harm.”
“It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have gone into town. I should have watched him. I should have–”
“Och, Jenny. From what Cheyne tells me, ye’re an attentive mother. How many fancy women do ye think would look after their own bairns the way ye do?”
“I’m not a fancy woman. I’m only a professor’s daughter. I should have checked the bedding. I should have seen the spider.”
Matthew place a hand lightly on her arm. “It probably climbed in well after ye put the lad down for his nap or ye would have seen it when ye drew aside his blanket before setting him in. Ye mustn’t blame yerself.”
She held back her protest. Matthew was being kind and she appreciated it.
“Cheyne knows about these things. He’d tell ye if Johnny was in serious danger. That’s the thing about my brother. He never lies.”
“I know.” But this only made her feel worse. She was now lying to all three brothers. “What worries me most is that he isn’t crying. He isn’t moving.”
As though on cue, Johnny suddenly emitted a piercing cry and spit up all over the front of her gown. Then all he did was howl and wail.
Jenny wanted to cheer, but knew the boy wasn’t out of danger yet.
“Och, lass. He made a mess of ye.” Matthew raked a hand through his hair, looking perplexed. “Where’s Cheyne? Why is he no’ back yet?”
Surprisingly, Jenny was the one to remain calm. “Grab one of the clean cloths for me. Do you see the stack there on the table?”
She had to shout over the boy’s cries, but did not mind. His howls were music to her ears. But it upset her that he was in pain. She looked at his leg, trying to hold it still now that he was fussing and kicking. It was red and swollen at the spot of the bite.
“I’ll hold the lad while ye take care of yer gown,” Matthew offered, but she shook her head to refuse.
“I can’t let him go. I can’t.”
He nodded. “I know, lass. He’s just given us all a fright. But ye’re a mess and ye dinna want him rubbing his face in...whatever that is he spit up on ye.”
Lyon returned with the ice as they were quibbling. “Jenny,” he said gently and arched an eyebrow. “Do as Matthew suggests. The bairn is howling like a banshee. His lungs are strong.” He held up the ice. “And I have to take him from ye anyway to numb his leg. It’ll keep the swelling down.”
She relented and rose after handing Johnny over to him.
“Och, lass! Looks like he emptied the entire contents of his stomach on ye. Matthew, open a window. Let’s get some air in here.”
Mrs. MacNaught had followed him in and was now rustling through Jenny’s wardrobe. “Never a dull moment with ye Lyon lads. Come along, Miss Jenny. His Grace will take care of the bairn while I clean ye up.”
Jenny didn’t want to leave, for Johnny was still crying.
But Lyon now had him and she could see he knew what he was doing. She loved that aura of confide
nce about him. He walked around the room with the child in his arms as though he was an experienced father. His voice was deep and soothing as he applied the ice to Johnny’s leg. “Take Jenny to my chamber, Mrs. MacNaught. She can change in there.”
“Yer Grace!”
He rolled his eyes. “Mrs. MacNaught, do as I say. No one is going to burst in. Can the gown be salvaged?”
Jenny was sorry for that, too. “I’ve ruined it, your mother’s gown. I’ll pay for the damage. I’ll–”
“Jenny, don’t ye dare bring it up again. I’ve told ye already, ye’ll no’ pay for anything here. Not ever. The gown belongs to ye now, assuming it can be saved. Take her, Mrs. MacNaught. She’s an unholy mess. The lad cast up his accounts all over her. The front of her gown is soaked thoroughly.”
“Aye, Yer Grace.”
Jenny had no choice but to follow Mrs. MacNaught who was dragging her to the door. In truth, she was eager to wash the stink off her and don a fresh gown. The sooner she attended to it, the sooner she could return to Johnny.
Although she was hurt Lyon had referred to her as an unholy mess, she still wished to thank him. But he had his back to her now and obviously had matters well in hand. His soothing voice, or perhaps it was the application of the ice, had calmed Johnny. And now that the boy was calm, Lyon and Matthew seemed to be engaged in serious conversation. No doubt about her failure as a mother.
She heard her name muttered, and then Lyon scowled at his brother. “I’ll no’ have her–”
She heard no more as Mrs. MacNaught nudged her out of her own bedchamber and led her down the hall.
I’ll no’ have her stay here another day. Is this what Lyon had just said to Matthew?
Chapter Seven
Jenny had given her sacred oath to protect John and Jenny’s little boy with her life. She had promised to watch over him and keep him safe until they returned. That she’d failed to keep her promise tore at her heart and left her aching badly.
