Isabella wrinkled her nose. “That’s an understatement. His father was a hard, cruel man and his mother had a temper, to be certain. Their marriage was a battlefield. A war that raged his entire life. I’d say it ended with his father’s death but I’m fairly certain that the lairdess is still fighting.”
Eliza shook her head. “Our other aunt and uncle as well. Only our parents seemed reasonably happy, even if our father is difficult.”
“Difficult?” Sophie asked, curious about Ewan’s cousins. They all seemed to share some sort of trauma that was part of the wall between Sophie and her husband.
“He faked his own death to solve the mystery of who was stealing from the business, leaving us completely alone,” Isabella said.
Sophie covered her mouth with her hand, sympathy making her step closer as her fingers slid down her chin. “And I thought my father was bad. He just made a match with a callous rake.”
Both women chuckled. “Sophie, from what little I’ve seen, you’re perfect for Ewan.”
Warmth spread through her. “Thank you.”
Isabella grinned back. “You’re very welcome. Just try to be patient with him. It’s going to take some time for him to unlearn the lessons of his childhood.”
Sophie nodded even as Eliza leaned down close to her ear. “And don’t be afraid to keep him in your bed. You can turn a man to jelly if you do.”
Sophie started. Was that true? Would more lovemaking help him soften toward her? “I shall consider your advice very carefully,” she replied. “Now let me show you to your cabins.”
By the time night had fallen, Sophie had a plan she was eager to implement.
She’d been considering the duchess’s words all day and Isabella was correct. She needed to give her husband patience. When she really considered the situation, Ewan had been infinitely patient in helping her to recover from her wounds. He deserved the same.
But she also had every intention of following Eliza’s advice as well. She’d use her body to tell him how she felt and what was more, she’d use her words.
He didn’t have to repeat them. But she’d never get anywhere by silently hoping. It was time to tell him of her love and affection.
Unlike other nights where she blew out the candles, tonight she let them burn, stripping down to her chemise as she lounged on the bed. He came as he always did, softly opening the door, not to disturb her in case she was asleep.
But this night, she didn’t lay tucked under the covers but on top of them, her head propped up on her hand. “Hello,” she said as their eyes met and held.
“Sophie,” he said, stopping in the door. “What are ye doing?”
She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “How was your day?” She knew she’d ignored his question by asking hers. But she didn’t quite know what to say.
“Fine,” he said, crossing the room until he reached the basin, then stripped off his shirt and began to wash up. “And yers?”
Her mouth went dry as she watched him. “Very good.”
He finished, toweling off as he turned to her again. “Is there a reason the candles are still burning?”
She pushed up a bit straighter. “Isn’t it nice to wash up in the light?”
He quirked a brow as he sat in the chair to remove his boots. “I suppose. I’m quite adept at moving about in the dark.”
She swung her feet over the side of the bed. “Do you feel good about the plan?”
He removed his second boot and gave her a long look. “Aye. I do. Do ye?”
She nodded, pressing her hands to her thighs. “I’m a bit nervous to return to London.”
He softened then and crossed the room to plunge a hand in her hair at her nape. “I’ll keep ye safe.”
“I know,” she said with a deep breath. She stood, their bodies close together. “We all have the things that frighten us, though, don’t we?”
“I suppose we do.” He sat down then, beginning to remove his breeches.
“What are you afraid of?” she asked as she took a deep breath for bravery and then pulled her chemise over her head.
His eyes travelled up her body, completely exposed to his gaze in the candlelight. “I don’t—”
“You can tell me,” she whispered. Then she knelt in front of him to continue the job of removing his breeches. “You can trust me with your private thoughts, I promise. I’ll keep them safe.”
His face was unreadable as he looked down at her. “Sophie.”
But as his breeches cleared his knees, she let her hands rake up his massive thighs rather than continue to remove the pants. She heard him suck in a breath and so she repeated the movement before taking his member in her hands.
He rumbled out a noise from his throat even as he pushed into her hands. With a smile, she tipped forward, placing a kiss on the tip.
His fingers slid into her hair again, even as she sucked and kissed along his member. He said her name again. “Sophie.” But this time it sounded like a plea.
Part of her was tempted to keep kissing him like this. She felt powerful and she remembered how he’d pleasured her with his mouth. Was that what he needed?
But she also wanted to wrap her arms about his neck, look into his eyes, and confess her love.
And so she let go of his thick staff and stood, straddling his lap and allowing him to slide into her channel. The heat of him surrounded her and he hissed into her ear. He felt so good, part of her forgot her agenda, lost in the pleasure, but she forced herself to look into his eyes. “Ewan. I have to tell you something.”
“What,” he asked stilling.
In answer, she slid his member back out of her body and then pushed down on him again.
“Sophie,” he ground out through clenched teeth as his hands came to her hips, guiding her movements.
She looked into his, pressing her forehead to his as she continued to move. “I love you.”
Ewan’s heart slammed against his ribs as he looked at his wife. Sophie. The woman currently riding him as she stared into his eyes, professing her feelings for him. He was…overwhelmed.
The words, “I love ye too,” rose to his lips. He did love her. He knew that he did. Never had a woman pulled at his heartstrings more. Hell, he’d sworn never to marry, and she’d gotten him to an anvil altar in less than a week.
But professing the words stripped him of that final barrier of protection. He could not repeat his parents’ marriage and to be so open would surely lead to heartache.
Even as he held his tongue, she pulled him closer. He wrapped his arms about her back as they moved together, her scent weaving around him even as her lips pressed to his.
Everything about her pleased him and as they spiraled closer to the finish, he moaned her name, a plea for her to understand. “Sophie.”
“I’m here,” she said against his lips. “I’ll always be here.”
A few more strokes and she exploded around him, squeezing him tight. He couldn’t hold back, and his own orgasm ripped through him.
And then they collapsed back on the bed together, her on top of him as she kissed him again. “Ewan,” she said, her lips sliding toward his ear.
“Aye?”
“I meant what I said.” Her cheek brushed his. “I wanted you to know how I feel.” She stroked her hands along his collarbone and down the sides of his chest. His tongue ached to speak, and he held it in check by clenching his teeth together. “I’m in love with you.”
“Sophie,” he finally said, low and full of the hurt he felt not replying in kind.
“It’s all right,” she whispered, kissing the sensitive spot on his neck. “You don’t have to say it back. I know I promised you a marriage of convenience and I’m breaking my vow. But I’m no good at deceit and I couldn’t keep my feelings in. I’ll be a good wife. Or I’ll at least try my best.”
He choked on his own words. He was the one failing her here. Of that he was certain.
His hands splayed out on her back. “Ye’re not breaking a
promise.”
She stilled. “Aren’t I?”
He ached. She was blaming herself? “Sophie. I saved ye. Of course ye feel some affection fer me.”
She shook her head as she lifted up to look down at him. “I don’t feel gratitude, Ewan. Though I am grateful. Gratitude does not make me want to touch you all the time.”
His brows lifted. She was so brave. In this moment, she was so much braver than himself. He should explain at least. “I ken I told ye about my parents.”
“A little,” she answered her fingertips trailing down his cheek.
He looked to the side, then, because he didn’t want her to see the pain in his eyes. The candlelight flickered around them. “At least once a winter, my mother would pack me up and load me on a boat, telling me to say goodbye to Scotland and my father forever. It wasn’t that I loved him exactly, but he was all I kenned and…”
She kissed his forehead, the corners of his eyes. “How terrible.”
“Everything she did was to inflict pain on him.”
She brushed back his hair. “I understand. You’ve been so brave, my love.”
Did she understand? Was she giving him permission to not return her affection? He could have smacked himself. Her kindness only served to make him feel worse. He was as selfish as his mother. Was he being as cruel as his father in withholding from her?
“Why did she leave?”
He shrugged. “My father liked to talk with his fists.”
She winced, nodding.
“But my mother seemed to goad him. There was no kindness. No softness on either side.”
She rubbed his forehead, her fingertips dancing over his skin. “Oh Ewan. How did you manage to be so wonderful?”
He blinked at her even as she lifted off him and stood, going about the room and blowing out the candles. He watched her move, loving the graceful, stunning lines of her body. Raising up on his elbow, he memorized every curve. He wanted to tell her to leave one burning so he could look at her still, but she blew out the last flickering flame and then slid next to him in the bed, curling into his side.
He hadn’t lied. There had been no give from either his mother or his father. And he tried to rationalize with himself that no one had ever taught him how to love.
Well, no one until now. Sophie was remarkably adept at giving affection and she lavished the emotion on him now.
As his wife snuggled against him, her soft warmth melding into him, he realized that he’d never have to worry. Sophie would never turn hard and cold. It wasn’t in her nature. His sweet Sophie was all giving tenderness.
Unlike him. He had acted exactly like his parents and withheld his affection, treated her with a distant coldness that would suck their relationship dry of any tender emotions.
He had to change. For himself. But mostly for her.
“Sophie,” he murmured, caressing her face. She didn’t answer, instead letting out a soft sigh. She’d fallen asleep. “Tomorrow I’m going to tell ye exactly how much I love ye too, sweetheart.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sophie woke late, and Ewan had already left the room.
Her stomach dropped. She’d hoped that their talk last night would move them forward somehow, but apparently it had not. Then she noticed a note on the pillow next to hers.
Her heart sped up as she unfolded the paper and read the bold scroll.
I’ll see you at dinner.
Ewan
She laughed to herself. It was the least romantic note that might have ever been written and yet it filled her with a light hope that left her breathless.
They were going to have a meal together. Talk.
It was exactly what she’d hoped for.
Sophie rose from the bed, then dressed and styled her hair. Afterward, she climbed up onto the deck to find the other two couples travelling with them already there watching the ship tack into the mouth of the Thames.
Her stomach dropped again. Perhaps he didn’t wish to discuss his feelings at all but just their return to London.
Disappointment coursed through her, but she tamped it back down. She’d promised herself she’d be patient. It had been less than a day. It wasn’t time for despair yet. Ewan needed unconditional love and that was what she would give him.
Nor would she fret over their return to London. She took a deep breath. She was Lairdess McLaren now, and at her husband’s side, she had nothing to fear.
She approached the others. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Devonhall answered, giving her an easy smile.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Isabella said as she threaded her arm through Sophie’s.
Sophie nodded, smiling, as she pushed down her apprehension. “It’s lovely. And warmer now that we’re not out to sea.”
Eliza looked to the shore. “Makes you hopeful doesn’t it? The warming of spring?”
Sophie nodded. She needed that hope now. “How soon before we reach the city?”
“We’ll be in London by noon,” Menace answered. She nodded as she watched the land slip by. In this moment, she far preferred the cool crisp air of the open ocean with her husband’s arm wrapped about her waist.
Because, try as she might not to worry, the closer they drew to London, the more her belly churned. She’d like to have Ewan’s arm about her now.
Her feelings of apprehension only grew stronger two hours later as they docked. Menace had escorted her to the cabin that she and Ewan shared and then he and Eliza sat with her while the rest of the ship buzzed with activity, loading and unloading crates. It was part of the plan, of course. She wasn’t to be seen in case the meeting with her father didn’t go well.
“Sorry, you’re stuck down here,” Menace said with a wince.
She smiled. “I don’t mind in the least. I’m glad to be safe and out of sight but I am sorry you’ve been saddled with guard duty. You should be out there enjoying the sun. Both of you.”
Eliza waved her hand. “Sun is bad for my skin.” Then she leaned forward. “Let’s play a game, shall we? It will pass the time.”
Sophie nodded as she looked out the porthole onto the bustle of the docks. What was Ewan doing? What did he plan to do to find Hughes? She’d have to wait until tonight to get answers.
Ewan stepped off the dock in the afternoon sun, scanning the crowds of the docklands.
In a sea of humanity, it was difficult to pick any one person out. Not that he needed to, but he’d been unsettled all day.
Sophie was safely tucked into his cabin with Menace as her guard but knowing Hughes was here in London…
He shook his head. They had a plan. A good one.
But still, he didn’t want to be away from his wife. He wanted to hold her. Hell, he wished to share his love and commitment with her. Which made a ghost of a grin touch his lips. He’d changed so much since he’d met Sophie. Now he just needed to take care of Hughes and they could begin the rest of their lives.
Devonhall had issued an invitation to Hughes, for tonight, to attend a high stakes game at the gaming hell Devonhall owned. They’d allow the man to win and then see where he took his newfound wealth.
It was a good plan. Menace would stay with Sophie to protect her while Devonhall would lay the bait and Ewan…he’d spring the trap.
But he hated leaving his wife.
The afternoon crawled by, even with all the work he needed to do, and he made his way down to the cabin well before the dinner hour.
Stepping into the room, he nodded to Menace and his wife first. “Thank ye fer spending the afternoon with Sophie.”
Menace nodded as he rose. “We’ll be back in an hour?”
Ewan gave a tight nod as he turned to his wife. She rose too and the moment the door closed behind their guests, she launched herself into his arms.
He caught her up easily and held her against his chest, kissing her lips. “Sophie,” he said between kisses. He wanted to stay with her. He wished to tell her how he felt. “Are ye all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said as she buried her head into his shoulder. “I missed you today.”
“I missed ye too.”
She raised her head and looked into his eyes. “You did?”
“I did.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve worried my entire life about ending up as my parents did. Bitter and angry. But,” he leaned down and kissed her, “I’m not afraid anymore.”
“You’re not?” Her eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise.
He shook his head. “No. I’m not. My parents are in me, I can’t do anything about that but…” he stared at his lovely wife. “But ye, my love, are nothing like either of them. Yer kindness and tender heart will see us through.”
Her breath caught and he hugged her a bit closer. “Sophie,” he said.
“Yes?”
“I love ye too, lass.”
Their hour was supposed to be about telling her his feelings, eating a meal, and sharing their plan. But as her lips met his over and over, he knew he’d forgo the rest to make passionate love to his wife.
They held each other desperately, tenderly until it was time for him to leave again. “Menace will stay here with ye. I’m going to investigate Hughes tonight.”
“How?” she asked as she rose to dress.
“He’s been invited to an elite game at Devonhall’s club. If he’s truly in need of money, he won’t resist the temptation to win. Of course, I’ll be one of his opponents. We’re actually going to allow him to win and then see who he pays off with the earnings.” There were a few risks. Hughes might realize he was being allowed to win. He might not use his earnings to pay his debts. But Ewan had spent enough time with criminals to understand it would likely work. “I’ll see Hughes in jail if nothing else.”
She nodded as she kissed his lips. “I love you, Ewan. Thank you.”
It took more effort than he ever imagined possible, but he left her side and headed out onto the deck where Devonhall already waited for him.
The two men made their way down the plank where they hailed a hack and set off for the Den of Sins.
Laird of Longing: Regency Romance Page 8
