by Meara Platt
He carefully touched the bite mark. No hard lump had formed beneath it. This was a very good sign. He tweaked the boy’s chin and received a smiling squeal in response. “There’s a good lad,” he said with obvious relief.
“So ye think he’s out o’ danger now?” Lucas asked.
“Aye.” He explained why he thought so and noticed that all of them were listening intently. “I dinna think he’ll need the drops of brandy.” He would have given a little to the lad to help numb his pain. They had nothing else available. But he was pleased not to use it.
Jenny cast him a look of gratitude. “You knew exactly what to do. I can’t thank you enough.”
Cheyne rose before the urge to kiss her overwhelmed him. “We can all take turns watching him tonight. I think he’ll be fine, but let’s be diligent this first night. He’s a strong, little lad. All we need do is check the spot from time to time to make certain no underlying infection develops.” He paused to gaze at all of them. They were staring at him as if he spoke the gospel. “And you, lass. How is yer arm?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him with a smile.
He was undeserving of the admiration in her eyes. “Wake me if he starts to squawk. Wake me if ye suspect anything is amiss. Better to be overly cautious.”
He turned to his brothers to make certain they’d also taken in his warning. They both nodded.
“What will ye do if infection develops?” Matthew asked.
Cheyne rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to show them a scar on his forearm. “I’ll have to cut open the wound and bleed out the pus.” He turned to Jenny. “It will hurt the bairn, but only a little. It can’t be helped. The pain will pass quickly and he’ll feel much better for it.”
Her eyes began to tear again, but she nodded. “I trust you.”
“I’ll do my best, lass. Ye know I will. He’s our nephew. We’ll all do our best to protect him.”
His brothers muttered their agreement.
The three of them left to allow Jenny and the other women to take the first turn in watching the bairn.
“She won’t let him out o’ her arms,” Matthew said once they’d settled in Cheyne’s study and he had poured a glass of brandy for each of them.
Cheyne nodded. “She’s a mother hen. Can’t help herself. I’m sure she’ll stay up with each of us as we take our turns. But she won’t fight ye. She understands the danger of her falling asleep and accidentally dropping the lad.”
“Ye like her, don’t ye Cheyne?” Lucas asked. “Ye don’t blame her for Johnny’s injury.”
“Blame her? Och, no. Is there one o’ us who hasn’t been bitten?” He glanced at his arm again. “I have four or five that I can recall. I’m sure there are more. As to liking her? Aye, John chose well.”
Matthew pursed his lips. “About what Davina said. Ye wouldn’t ever...”
“Use Jenny to get back at him?” Cheyne scowled at both his brothers. “And ye, Lucas. Are ye thinking it, too?”
Lucas choked on the sip of brandy he’d just taken. “Course not. Ye’d sooner cut off yer right arm than ever harm her. So would we. She’s a good lass, isn’t she? It’s obvious. But why do ye think our brother abandoned her?”
“He dinna,” Cheyne insisted. “He sent her to me with a letter of introduction.”
“He dumped her on yer doorstep,” Lucas muttered.
Cheyne thought so, too. But he’d never admit it, for it would shame Jenny as much as Davina’s harsh words were intended to shame her. She did not deserve any of the scandal. “He dinna dump her. He’ll be back for her and his son. He knew I would provide for them and protect them. Ye both must promise to do the same.”
Matthew grunted. “Ye know we will. Don’t insult us by asking us to swear on it.” He finished his brandy and stretched his arms over his head. “Do ye mind if I turn in early, Cheyne? I dinna want to be falling asleep on my shift. And we have that bare-arsed swim first thing in the morning.”
“With my ducal arse leading the way.” Cheyne drained the last of his brandy and nodded. “Aye, we should all do the same.” In truth, all this talk of Jenny was stoking the flames of his improper desire and he needed to end the conversation before he said or did something reckless.
Entering his bedchamber only heightened his agony.
The scent of Jenny lingered in the air. She had used his sandalwood soap to clean off the bairn’s spittle. But on her, it was different. There was a feminine quality to the sandalwood scent.
Sandalwood and roses?
Worse was the knowledge she’d been naked in his bedchamber.
He glanced toward his bed and groaned aloud.
He wanted her beside him, wanted to taste her warm, soft skin with his lips and tongue, wanted to caress her and kiss her, gently suckle the tender tips of her breasts, and claim her as a husband would claim his wife.
She’d taste sweet.
She’d taste of heaven.
The physical ache overwhelmed him. He collapsed onto his bed and threw an arm over his eyes to hide the vision of Jenny. It did nothing to help. Nor had the two-week absence done anything to diminish his yearning for his brother’s wife.
Quite the opposite, it had intensified his hunger.
How long could he hide his feelings from his brothers? Matthew and Lucas knew him too well. This lust for Jenny was an untamed beast hidden in the deep recesses of his heart for now. But how long before the beast broke free?
No, it never could.
He’d never shame Jenny this way.
“John, damn ye,” he said in a raw whisper. “When are ye going to take her away?”
Chapter Eight
Jenny had stayed awake while Lucas took his turn in the rocking chair in the early evening. He held Johnny as though he was an experienced father, but she sensed all these Lyon men had a natural tendency to be caring and protective.
She’d enjoyed talking to Lucas and learning of his hopes and dreams. He enjoyed working at the Royal Bank of Scotland. “I like to think I can make a difference,” he said. “Perhaps not in any heroic way, but in small ways, one project at a time. Right now, I oversee only the Edinburgh ventures. I hope soon to be given more responsibility. But even now, I can help create new businesses or expand an existing business. I have the power to say yea or nay to constructing new homes or a new hospital, or financing expansion of new trade routes for our merchants. I don’t look at the numbers so much as the person applying.”
Jenny listened attentively. “What do you mean?”
“Well, what looks good on paper doesn’t always tell the whole story. Does the borrower have his heart in the project? Does he believe in it? Is he willing to work hard? Stand behind his vision and risk his own funds as well as the bank’s?” He cast her a bashful smile. “Cheyne’s work is far more important, but I’ve carved my own niche.”
Jenny was seated on her bed, her legs tucked under the gown and her chin resting on her hands that were leaning on the footboard. “You help others. That’s what counts.”
Matthew took over from Lucas later that evening. Although she wasn’t purposely trying to pry information out of either brother, they seemed open to talking to her. Since she had no siblings, she had never spent time among family like this. Her mother had died when Jenny was two years old, so it had been only her and her father for the last eighteen years.
When her father had died last year, she’d become the ward of an uncle she’d never met. He viewed her as a burden and was more than happy to push her into a betrothal with Lord Finster, that odious man. She shook out of her own worries and listened attentively as Matthew told her all about the mathematics classes he taught and the theoretical research he was also working on outside of his regular teaching duties.
She didn’t understand half of what he was talking about, and there was much he could not tell her because some of his work was for the government and had to be kept secret. But she was fascinated and loved listening to him.
Her father had been
a history professor, so she had a vast knowledge of all things historical, but mathematics at the level Matthew taught at university was too theoretical for her brain to comprehend.
However, it calmed her fears to know these Lyon brothers were truly good men and would care for little Johnny no matter what happened. She saw it in the loving way each held the boy. She was also relieved to see the boy regaining some of his vigor. He was now climbing all over Matthew, exploring the curve of his nose, his earlobes, and tugging on his hair. Matthew was not irritated by it at all.
When Jenny reached out for Johnny to give him his bottle, Matthew asked if he could do it. “Yes, of course.” Smiling, she handed him a cloth to place over his shoulder to protect his clothes.
He did a respectable job of feeding, and felt quite proud of himself until he attempted to burp Johnny. The lad spit up on him. “Och! Jenny!” He leaped out of the rocking chair and held the boy out to her.
“I warned you!” But they were both laughing as Jenny scrambled off her bed and gingerly picked up Johnny. She carried him to the table. The boy wasn’t through. He soiled his nappy.
Matthew gagged as the foul odor suddenly hit his nostrils. “Och, Jenny! That’s...”
“Disgusting?” She shook her head and laughed again. “This is what babies do.” It did smell bad, but Matthew was being quite dramatic about it. She held Johnny securely with one hand while reaching for a clean nappy and a damp, cleaning cloth with the other. Perhaps the spider bite had affected the boy’s digestion for what came out of his bottom was particularly odorous.
“Dampen another cloth for me, will you Matthew?”
His face was scrunched in an expression of disgust until he noticed Cheyne walk in. “Thank goodness ye’re here! Is it yer turn yet?”
“Aye, Matthew. Lord, who let the skunk in?” He grinned at Jenny as his brother dumped the wet cloth in his hands and tore out of the room. “What was that about?”
“Your brother may be a brilliant mathematician, but he has a delicate nose.”
“Blessed saints, I had better open a window.” He handed her the wet cloth and hastened to do just that. But he returned to her side and made no protest as he assisted her. In truth, her insides were melting as they always seemed to do whenever he was near. Everything about him turned her body to fire. The graze of his shoulder against hers. The lopsided grin on his face as he looked upon his nephew. The warmth in his eyes as he looked upon her.
A soft breeze now wafted in from the open window. In the distance, she could hear the pounding of the waves upon the beach. Her heart pounded as well. Could he hear it in the silence of the night? She could not go on like this.
She had to tell him the truth. “Your Grace–”
“Ah, Jenny. Dinna call me that. Ye know ye needn’t be formal with me.”
“I must tell you something you will not be pleased to hear.”
He had just taken Johnny into his arms and now frowned down at the boy’s leg. “Is it to do with the lad?”
She took a deep breath. “Yes and no. Well, more to do with me. Little Johnny is the reason I’m here, but that’s not the problem. You see, I–”
The lad suddenly emitted an ear piercing scream. Jenny paled as she took him from Lyon’s hands and set the boy back down on the table. She checked his nappy and clothes. She carefully touched his leg but the spider bite had almost disappeared and did not seem to be giving him any distress. She was at a loss until Johnny suddenly began to rub his ear and jaw.
He’d just grown in a few front teeth and she expected the back teeth were now starting to grow in. “I think he’s teething.” Sighing with relief, she took him back into her arms and began to walk around the room with him in the hope it would quiet his wails.
Lyon stood watching her, his arms folded across his chest. Was she imagining the heat of his gaze on her? If he touched her, she feared her body would indeed turn to flame. “Jenny, lass,” he said after a moment, his voice a soft rumble. “Let me take the lad and try to calm him. I can see ye are exhausted. Have ye slept at all this evening?”
“No.” But how could she close her eyes when Johnny was in distress?
“The lad will survive his teeth growing in. The spider bite was the greater danger, but it’s subsided and there’s no lump forming under the spot of the bite. Let me hold my nephew. I’ll try to rock him to sleep in my arms.” He glanced at her own unslept in bed. “Get some rest, lass. I’ll keep the boy as quiet as I can.”
Reluctantly, she nodded. “But promise me you’ll grant me a moment of your time tomorrow morning.”
“Aye, lass. I can see something is weighing on yer mind. I have a duty to open the Pagan Moon celebration first thing tomorrow morning. Let’s take a walk afterward. Ye can tell me what’s troubling ye then.”
She nodded again. “Thank you, Lyon. Whatever happens tomorrow, I want you to know that I think you and your brothers are wonderful. It eases my heart to know Johnny has such loving uncles.”
“Whatever happens? Jenny, what are ye talking about?” Now that Johnny had quieted in his arms, she heard Lyon’s sharp intake of air. “Are ye planning on leaving us?”
She drew back her coverlet and climbed into bed, not bothering to change out of her gown. It was scandalous to have any of John’s brothers in her bedchamber, this brother most of all. “I don’t ever want to leave here.”
She knew she’d confused him. “Och, lass. Whatever it is, we’ll work it out. Ye’re family, Jenny. We’ll always take care of ye.”
“Thank you, Lyon.” She set her head down on the pillow and silently cried herself to sleep.
This sadness in Jenny was eating Cheyne’s gut.
He held tighter to the bairn who was now asleep in his arms. He loved the boy. Aye, he loved him very much. But he cared for Jenny, too. As a sister, of course. At least, this is the way he ought to think of her, for to covet his brother’s wife was a mortal sin. But he’d heard a sniffle or two out of her, and it made him want to lie beside her, wrap his arms around her, and claim her soft, aching body.
She tore at his heart.
He couldn’t be with her and didn’t ever want to be without her.
It was an impossible situation.
He’d known her less than a month and much of the time he’d been away. She’d done nothing to tempt him other than be herself.
She sniffled again.
He silently cursed, knowing he could not touch her. Not ever. All the more urgency to settle her in comfort somewhere outside the castle. He’d go mad with temptation if he had to endure another night like this.
He was eager to give up his shift to Mairi when she knocked quietly shortly before dawn. “Och, Yer Grace, I see the babe is peaceful in yer arms. How is Miss Jenny? The poor lass was aching something fierce for her child.”
“Better, I hope. But she cried herself to sleep. Dinna wake her, Mairi. I’ll have Mrs. MacAlpin prepare a tray for her if she does no’ come down to breakfast.” He kissed the top of little Johnny’s head and touched his lips to the lad’s brow, relieved he was perfectly warm to the touch. No fever. No chills.
He gave the bairn’s leg another look.
“I canno’ see a mark on him, Yer Grace.”
“Nor can I, Mairi.” He smiled at the girl and strode out. He dared not glance at Jenny. There was no need. He’d stared at her all night, taking in his fill of this angel his brother had married and dumped on his doorstep.
He returned to his bedchamber, the massive ducal quarters feeling particularly empty and bleak. Surprisingly, he managed to sleep soundly. Perhaps torment did that to a man. Nonetheless, he rose fairly well rested and ready to take on whatever the day would bring.
He had just washed and was about to dress when his brothers marched in unannounced. Since he always slept naked, this is how they found him. He grabbed his trousers and scowled at the pair as they crossed the room to come to his side, giving not a whit of care for decorum. They stood before him, both of them grinning as
he buttoned his trousers. “Why are ye gawking at me like a pair of donkeys?”
“Cheyne, it’s time. Ye canno’ ignore tradition.”
“Ye mean our annual swim? Aye, let’s go.” He hoped Jenny was still asleep. He dared not think she could see him from her window.
Matthew arched an eyebrow as Cheyne reached into his wardrobe to toss on a shirt. “Since when have ye turned into a blushing bride? Why the sudden modesty?”
“It’s just a shirt.” His brothers wore only their trousers and had their shirts casually tossed over one shoulder as they prepared to strut and swagger down to the beach. One would think a duke ought to show more restraint, but this is what Pagan Moon was all about, tossing aside propriety and one’s inhibitions...which he dared not do around Jenny.
“The lassies will be disappointed if ye cover yerself up,” Lucas teased. “They’re already lining up along beach for the spectacle. I’m sure half the townsmen are on the beach already, standing proudly, as nature made them.”
“Damn, stupid tradition.” Cheyne sighed. “Fine, but have Mairi warn Jenny. She’s English and is no’ used to seeing hairy-arsed Scotsmen strutting their family assets on the shore. Our rituals would be frowned upon where she was brought up.”
“Och, she’s a sweet lass,” Lucas said and Matthew nodded in agreement. “But she’s no buttoned up Sassenach prude. Surely she’s seen John naked.”
Great way to ruin my day.
“He’s her husband. She has every right to see his buttocks.”
“And his bollocks.” Matthew laughed. “And now, she’ll see ours. So what? Every man and boy in Mar will be doing the same. It’s the official start of the Pagan Moon festival.”
“Da’s been taking us on the traditional swim ever since we were Johnny’s age,” Lucas added. “He held us in his arms, of course. But the point is, ye canno’ break with clan tradition. All the men in town participate. How will they feel if the duke shirks his duty? And if ye will recall, a few of the ladies offered to strip off their gowns and join ye, Cheyne. They always did like ye best.”
