Seducing His Sassenach

by Ashe Barker

The countess completed her task as though it was a perfectly ordinary occurrence to be obliged to tidy up her granddaughter’s nurse following a night of passion with a handsome Scot. She rose to her feet again and picked up the squirming baby. “Cecily and I will wait for you by the fire. I have it on good authority that there may be porridge.”

  * * *

  There was porridge, and it was exceptionally good. Jane saw to Cecily’s comfort, then ate her fill while Lady Falconer spooned tiny portions of the milky oats into the baby’s ever-open mouth.

  “It is like feeding a baby bird,” the countess remarked, making exaggerated smiles for her granddaughter’s benefit. “I swear this child has grown since yesterday.”

  “She does seem to be always hungry,” Jane agreed. “But she is sweet-natured, too.”

  “I fear we shall all have to be.” The countess’s face took on a more serious expression. “The journey facing us will not be an easy one.”

  “Scotland is so far...”

  “Indeed, but that is not my only concern.” She paused, appeared to be gathering her thoughts. She raised her gaze to meet Jane’s. “I could not help but notice your state of... dishevelment this morning.”

  Jane reddened but did not look away. “I am sorry to have caused you any embarrassment, my lady.”

  “I am not embarrassed, but I am concerned. For you.”

  Jane raised her eyebrows. “For me?”

  The countess nodded. “When we spoke yesterday, in the barn, you seemed to be... reconciled to what had taken place between yourself and Mr. McGregor.”

  “You mean, when he beat me with his belt.”

  “Yes. That.”

  “I am sorry, my lady. I do not quite see your point...”

  “In spite of your acceptance of your punishment, once it was concluded, it would not be unusual if you were to harbour a certain apprehension in Mr. McGregor’s presence. I know that he frightened you because you told me as much.”

  Jane remained puzzled, but merely nodded. The countess was correct. When she first followed Robbie into the barn she had been terrified of what was about to happen to her.

  The countess cleared her throat. “In the light of this, I need to be certain that any... intimacies which may have taken place were of your choosing. That you did not feel intimidated, or unable to say ‘no.’”

  “You mean, did Robbie force me?”

  “That is what I mean, yes. Because, whilst we are very much dependent upon the assistance of Mr. McGregor and his companions if we are to see Cecily returned to her mother in Scotland, I would not have that help at the expense of your safety. Or that of any young woman in my employ.”

  “You mean to protect me? From Robbie?”

  The countess inclined her head. “I do. I will not see a member of my household abused and I shall ensure that Mr. McGregor understands that, should it be needful.” She paused again. “So, is it?”

  “Is it what?” Jane, normally perfectly quick on the uptake, was floundering.

  “Needful,” the countess repeated. “Do you wish me to speak with him?”

  “Oh, no. No!” Jane shook her head. “Please, there is no need. He... he did not force me.”

  “I see. I am relieved to hear it.” The countess spooned another morsel of porridge into Cecily’s mouth. “In that case we need not discuss the matter further. Unless you wish to, of course.”

  “You are angry, my lady.” Jane regretted having upset her employer but balked at apologising.

  “Did I give that impression? I did not mean to. I was concerned for your welfare, no more.”

  “That is kind of you, my lady.”

  The countess lifted her gaze from the baby and met Jane’s. “I told you whilst we were still in Stratford-upon-Avon that I value your loyalty and the care you have lavished on my granddaughter. I care about you, Jane, and I would not see you hurt, or taken advantage of by a handsome rogue.”

  “You think him a rogue?”

  “Actually, no. I do not. I judge your Mr. McGregor to be a man of honour who is seeking to do what is right, at great personal risk. Had he not cared for Cecily he could have simply secured her in a saddlebag and ridden north as hard as his stallion could take him. He has sought to look after her comfort and contentment by ensuring she has the necessary care on the journey, and the company of people who love her. He has extended his protection to all of us, and I appreciate that.”

  “He is acting on his brother’s behalf.”

  “As I understand it, my son-in-law requested only that Mr. McGregor ascertain, if he could, the whereabouts of my granddaughter and, if possible, bring her home with him. There was no mention of also bringing her nurse or her grandmother.”

  “I suppose not,” Jane conceded. “He was reluctant to allow me to accompany Cecily, but I pleaded with him. I... I think he might mean to send me away though. If I displease him again.”

  “Displease him?” The countess raised one elegant eyebrow. “I trust he made no mention of this when discussing the matter of your bodice last night.”

  “Good heavens, no! I did not mean... I am sure such a thing never occurred to him. Certainly, he did not threaten me...”

  “Very well. I felt compelled to ask, you understand?” She regarded the baby lovingly. “I do believe she is satisfied at last. If you have finished your breakfast, would you be so kind as to hold her for me, my dear, and I shall leave you in peace. I believe I have interrogated you quite enough for one morning.”

  Jane was happy to take the baby, and somewhat relieved that this awkward conversation seemed to be at an end. Whilst she respected the countess as her employer, she had never imagined she might find herself discussing such personal matters with Lady Falconer. At the same time, she was touched by the concern expressed. It was surely madness to draw any comparison between her down-to-earth mother and the aristocratic lady who now shared the fireside with her, but Jane was put in mind of the formidable Mistress Bartle even so. She would have protected her brood every bit as fiercely.

  “Thank you,” Jane blurted. “For everything.”

  “You are quite welcome, my dear. Loyalty cuts both ways.” The countess got to her feet and dusted a few stray wisps of straw from her skirts. “And, for what it may be worth, I do not believe for one moment that Mr. McGregor has any intention of sending you away. It is quite plain to see that the man is besotted with you.”

  “Besotted? Oh, no, you are mistaken.”

  “Maybe, but I do not think so. Of course, I could not say what this might mean for the longer term. Perhaps you could discuss that with him, should another occasion find you in a state of undress. I assume, for instance, that you know whether or not he is married?”

  Jane could but gape at the countess. It had never occurred to her that Robbie might have a wife waiting for him in Scotland.

  Oh, dear Lord, what have I done?

  “I can see from your expression that you have not broached that subject with him.”

  Jane shook her head. “I never thought...”

  The countess patted her on the shoulder. “An oversight you must rectify. But again, for what it is worth, I do not consider him to be a man who would treat women in such a manner.”

  “Yet, earlier, you thought that he might have forced himself upon me. Surely, if you believed him capable of such wickedness...”

  “I did not say I believed it. But I could not ignore the possibility, that is all. I understand that Mr. McGregor is in the barn. Perhaps you should go and find him and have him put your mind at rest.”

  “I shall. Yes, at once.” Jane sprang to her feet and set off in the direction of the door.

  “Jane,” the countess called.

  “My lady?”

  “On second thoughts, maybe you should leave Cecily with me.”

  * * *

  Lady Falconer watched the flustered young woman hurry from the stable and permitted herself a wry smile.

  “Robbie isnae wed.”

  Sh
e turned to regard the man who had spoken. “I am aware of that, Mr. Montgomery. My husband was provided with all necessary information regarding the family of the man betrothed to our daughter.”

  “Then why give the lass the impression he may be married?”

  “To give her a reason to approach him. That pair need to talk, and this seemed as good a subject as any.”

  “Are ye matchmakin’, Countess?” Amusement glinted in the man’s dark brown eyes.

  She sniffed and tipped up her chin. “Naturally. Now, if you would excuse me, please...”

  She could still hear his soft chuckling when she emerged from the smoky atmosphere of the stable into the fresh late summer air.

  Matchmaking, indeed. Am I really that obvious?

  Chapter Eleven

  He caught sight of her the moment she stepped inside the barn. Indeed, she made a vision a man could hardly miss, in that lovely crimson gown, her ebony-coloured hair loose about her shoulders. Robbie patted his stallion’s flank and straightened from inspecting the animal’s hoof.

  “Jane? Is all well?”

  She appeared somewhat flustered. Her jaw set firm, she marched right up to him. Her expression was somewhat familiar now, a curious blend of belligerence and apprehension, tinged with quiet determination.

  “Are you married?” she demanded, without preamble.

  Both Fergus and Colin, who were tending to the horses with him, ceased their work.

  “Well?” she pressed him, ignoring their interested audience. “Are you?”

  “Leave us,” he commanded quietly. Both the men dusted off their hands and sauntered outside. Robbie waited until they had gone, then turned his attention to Jane. “Had I been wed, none o’ what took place last night would ha’ happened.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Sure?” He raised a quizzical eyebrow.

  “Are you sure you are not married?”

  He smiled. “I would ha’ noticed, I suspect. Or if I failed tae do so, I am quite certain someone would ha’ pointed out the fact.”

  Her eyes glistened and he was at once sorry for his teasing. This was clearly of the utmost importance to her. “Janie, I am no’ married.”

  “N-neither am I,” she muttered.

  “I believe I kenned that, sweetheart.”

  “Right then. I am pleased that we have this sorted.” She stepped back, sniffed, and swiped a tear from her eye. “I shall leave you to your task then. I... I apologise for disturbing you.” She turned and had taken several paces before he recovered his senses sufficiently to stride after her.

  “Jane, wait...”

  She broke into a run. He caught her at the door and grasped her around the waist.

  “Let me go. I need to—”

  He stopped her protests in the most effective manner he could find at short notice. He covered her mouth with his.

  Jane stiffened, then went limp in his arms. Robbie raised his head, only to have her suddenly squirm free and make another sprint for the door. This time when he caught her he brought the pair of them to the ground. His breath left his lungs in a sudden whoosh when he broke her fall with his own body, but this time he managed to hang on to her.

  “For fuck’s sake, Janie. I only want tae talk tae ye.”

  “And you think it right to do so by manhandling me? Do you mean to take your belt to me again if I do not choose to make conversation with you right at this moment?”

  “No, I fucking dinnae...”

  “And, please do not swear at me, sir.” She tried to shove him off her. “Let me up.”

  He tightened his hold on her. “No, I dinnae believe I shall. Not yet. I quite like ye lyin’ beneath me, Janie.”

  “You are an oaf.”

  “And ye’re a sharp-tongued wee harpy, yet, here we are...” He bent to kiss her again.

  “Do not think to confuse me with kisses,” she spluttered as soon as her mouth was free once more. “And, I am not a harpy.”

  He quirked his lip and buried his nose in the crook of her neck. She smelled of lavender. And of meadows, and of something sweet and musky that was just her.

  His cock throbbed and his balls ached. In truth, they had been aching for days, ever since he first laid eyes on this raven-haired English wench who challenged him at every turn and seemed bent on driving him to distraction.

  “I want ye, Janie,” he rasped.

  “Robbie, please...”

  “I said I wouldnae take ye, not unless ye asked. Will ye ask me, lass?”

  “Ask you? Ask you what?”

  “Ask me tae fuck ye. Please, Janie...” he growled. “Ask me.”

  “I... I cannot. What would Lady Falconer say?”

  He groaned. “I suspect, were ye tae ask her, she would turn ye down flat. But ‘tis me ye would be askin’. And the answer would be ‘yes, please.’”

  She punched his shoulder. “Must you always make light of such matters?”

  “Aye, ‘twould seem so.” He shifted to one side and reached for the hem of her velvet skirt. Perhaps a less direct approach would be more to her liking.

  “What are you doing? You cannot—”

  He stopped her mouth with another kiss and proceeded to raise her skirts as far as her knees.

  Her lips parted. She let out a breathy moan, which Robbie took as, if not quite assent, at least a sign that she was not wholly averse to what was happening. He plunged his tongue in and out of her mouth in a gentle imitation of what he really wanted to do with her.

  Jane grasped his upper arms and clung to him. She made no further protest when he lifted her skirts as far as her hips.

  She had beautiful legs. Long, slender, delicate calves, finely shaped knees, and those thighs...

  He had glimpsed her body before, when he persuaded her to take a bath in Stratford, but he had not had the opportunity to admire her properly, to drink in the sight and simply... enjoy her.

  He did now, trailing his fingers up the front of each thigh in turn, then tracing the seam between them.

  He was about to ask her to open for him when she did so of her own accord. He propped himself on one elbow to better appreciate the picture she presented.

  Jane lay still. Waiting. Her eyes were closed, her breathing soft.

  He had been afforded a beautiful view of her sweet cunny when he bent her over the cart yesterday, but this was different. Now she was showing him, inviting him to look, to touch.

  To taste?

  Robbie shifted such that he now lay between her spread thighs. Her folds glistened, the lips of her cunny already swelling and darkening to take on a delightful shade of pink. Using his thumbs, he gently eased her entrance open, affording himself a glimpse of her plump clitty.

  “Ye’re so beautiful, Janie.”

  She let out a soft mewling sound and swayed her hips from side to side.

  He moved closer. Inhaled. Her scent filled his nostrils. She smelled divine. Would she taste equally delicious? There was but one way to be sure...

  He drew the flat of his tongue along the length of her sex, gripping her thighs to hold her in place when she would have squirmed away.

  “Robbie, what are you doing?” she squealed, breathless in her stunned surprise.

  “I am enjoyin’ ye, sweetheart.”

  He repeated the lick, slower this time, savouring every sweet, delectable inch of her.

  “But, you cannot do that. I never imagined—”

  “Then your imagination requires some expandin’, pet. Be still, an’ let me give ye pleasure.”

  “But, I... oh! Ooooh!” Her words were lost in a long, low moan. She lifted her hips, pressing her slick folds against his face.

  Where he had tongue-fucked her mouth just minutes earlier, he now bestowed the same treatment on her cunny. He made a point of his tongue and drove it as deep as he could, then withdrew to lap at her engorged clitty before repeating the entire sequence again.

  “Robbie... I need... Aaah...” She grasped his hair, twisting s
trands of it between her fingers, and thrust her hips upward. “Oh, God... what are you doing? What is happening...?”

  He speared her again and again, whilst stroking her clitty with the pad of his thumb. His other hand moved lower to seek out her other entrance. He found it, and pressed lightly against the tight, puckered hole.

  Another time, perhaps...

  Jane made a groaning sound deep in her throat. His scalp stung when she tightened her grip on his hair, her fingers clutching at him as though she feared he might stop and leave her bereft.

  He had no such intention. Robbie withdrew his tongue, then quickly replaced it with one, then two fingers. He twisted them inside her tight channel, seeking out that particular spot... Yes!

  Jane’s inner muscles clamped hard around his fingers as the first tremors racked her body. He took her clitty between his lips and sucked hard, to be rewarded by her long, shuddering cry of stunned pleasure.

  He drew out every last shred of sensation, licking, thrusting, stroking, sucking until the violent trembling slowed and her body eventually lay limp. She lay still, panting, flushed from her climax, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open. Her spread thighs framed her beautiful cunny, wet, warm, welcoming.

  “Janie,” he began.

  She shook her head, the movement small, barely perceptible. “I cannot. Do not ask me to say that.”

  He would not press her. He must have her willing surrender or not at all.

  “‘Tis all right, sweetheart.”

  She shook her head again. “I... I do want it. I want you. But, I cannot say that word.”

  That word?

  “You want me tae fuck ye?” Robbie barely dared hope.

  “Yes, but I shall not ask for it. Not in that way.”

  “Is there a way ye would prefer?”

  “Will you... will you make love to me, Robbie McGregor?”

  He paused to offer up grateful thanks to any deity who might be listening, then lowered his head to lay a soft kiss on her inner thigh. “Aye, right gladly, Jane Bartle.”

  * * *

  Relief flooded her, the moment the words were out. She had said it, asked it. Last night, he had said she belonged to him, and today, after this, he would be hers, also. She would take him inside herself, and he would remain in her soul forever.