by Meara Platt
John felt disgusted with himself.
He’d known and loved Nicola for years. Even though she was his best friend’s sister, why hadn’t he simply told her—and Julian—that he loved her? And why had he allowed his need for revenge against those who’d killed his parents destroy his own happiness? He’d tempered his rage by joining the elite circle of agents for the Crown, never planning to be encumbered by a family, expecting to feel satisfied whenever he brought down evil. But he never had. When would it ever be enough?
Would there ever come a time when he overcame his anger and led a normal life?
He knew the girl he wanted.
He loved this girl.
When would he be man enough to admit it to her?
“John, look! It’s so beautiful,” Nicola said as they rounded the bend and the crystal blue lake came into view. Indeed, the sight before them was an exquisite explosion of colors. He drew Valor up a moment while they took in the splendid scenery.
He sensed that Nicola needed a moment of peaceful contemplation amid the chaos swirling around them.
The cloudless October sky was a deep azure. The surrounding hills were covered in purple heather. Beyond them lay mountains covered in emerald green forests. To the east lay a meadow dotted with rowan and bracken and shaded in hues of browns and vivid greens. In the center of it all was a shining, crystal lake.
The cool air carried the scent of heather and pine toward them.
The sun bore down on them with sheltering warmth. It shone upon Nicola’s hair, highlighting the lush, red tones of her auburn curls. “I wonder if faeries come out at night to frolic here,” she said in an awed whisper.
John laughed. “The locals think they do. Indeed, there are faerie glens all over Scotland. There’s a well-known one on the Isle of Skye and another faerie glen not far from here.”
Nicola’s eyes rounded in delight. “Oh, how magical. I wish… never mind. It’s too silly to think of such things when we’re on the run for our lives.”
“I’ll bring you back here once proof of Somersby’s treason is in safe hands and he’s no longer a danger to you.”
She cast him a wry smile. “John, you needn’t indulge me. I know you’ll never bring me back here. Perhaps my brother and Rose will take me here one day.”
He said nothing, but silently promised himself that he would be the one to return here with Nicola.
They ate lunch beside the lake, careful to remain hidden within its shaded borders. Valor dined on sweet grasses and drank water from a rivulet that ran along the edge of their shady spot. Since they dared not light a fire, their repast consisted of fresh bread and cheese that Maeve had packed for them.
“Perhaps we ought to escort you to Braemar,” Angus said, his young heart obviously breaking at the thought of never seeing Nicola again.
Archie cuffed him in the head. “And get ourselves arrested and hanged? Start thinking with yer head and not yer… can’t say it in the presence of a lady.” He cast Nicola an appreciative glance, then turned to John. “Best to keep to the outskirts of town. There’s a quiet inn where the Uppity Ups like to go when they need to be discreet. Sammy’s sister runs it. Her name is Adela Fraser. The inn is called The Fox’s Lair. Just tell her that Sammy sent ye and he said not to charge ye for the room or the baths or the meals.”
Nicola’s eyes rounded in surprise. “That’s quite generous of him.”
Malcolm laughed. “No, it isn’t. He took yer necklace.”
Nicola’s hand instinctively went to her throat. “My locket?”
“Aye, that’s the one.” Malcolm frowned lightly. “He apologizes for sorting through his lordship’s pouch. I hope it dinna have sentimental value for ye.”
Nicola shook her head. “No. None at all.”
Archie folded his arms across his chest and grinned. “Good. He likes ye and would have felt some remorse for taking it from ye, otherwise.”
John caressed her cheek. “I’ll buy you another one when this is over.”
Angus stormed off without saying a word.
His brothers said quick farewells and took off after him.
Nicola groaned in relief. “I don’t think I shall soon forget any of these Frasers.”
“Indeed, they are one of a kind. I’m surprised their Fraser laird hasn’t hanged them all yet. Sammy and his boys aren’t above stealing from their own.” John gathered the remains of their lunch and tucked the last of the bread and cheese into his pouch. “Thank goodness,” he said with a low, rumble of laughter, “the book is still here.”
Nicola released her breath in a long, deep sigh. “Oh, dear. The possibility that they’d steal it never crossed my mind. I don’t care about the locket, of course. But to lose that book would have been disastrous.”
“Sammy wasn’t going to take it. He can’t read, so it holds no interest for him. But he likes shiny objects. Coins. Diamonds. He can’t keep his sticky fingers off those. Yet, he does have a sense of fairness. He gave us a night at his sister’s inn as his guest.” He ran a hand through his hair in consternation. “You’ll have to stay close to me while we’re there. It isn’t a respectable place and you’re… temptation.”
She stared at him in disbelief and laughed softly. “I haven’t washed in two, or is it three, days? My hair resembles a hornet’s nest. My clothes are shabby, to say the least. My—”
“Lips are sweet as nectar, and your body is what men dream of. So, stay close to me. And if anyone asks, you are my wife. I am your husband.” He ran a hand through his hair once more. “And you are carrying my child.”
Nicola scowled at him. “That again.”
“Yes, that again.” He stared at her breasts that were lush and full. Brazenly ogled them to get his point across. “Men will believe it. Everyone will believe it. Your breasts are what men dream about, too.”
Her cheeks turned to crimson flames. “I… you…”
“Do you think I haven’t noticed? Do you think holding you in my arms for days on end has been a chore for me? It hasn’t.” Indeed, it was exquisite agony. He turned away, knowing he’d said too much. What was wrong with him? He was worse than Angus. Far worse than that inexperienced lad, for he was not going to behave like a gentleman with Nicola tonight. He was going to explain that they were married and then claim his husbandly rights.
He strode to the rivulet and splashed cold water on his face.
He was a fool, a damned, stupid fool.
He’d never take Nicola without her consent. Nor would he ever take her without being fully committed to their marriage. She deserved no less.
She deserved love and happiness.
She did not deserve a tormented, hate-filled agent of the Crown.
NICOLA HADN’T EXPECTED The Fox’s Lair to be as charming an inn as it was. She found it perfect in every way. The structure was a large, thatched roof cottage with cheerful flower beds along its stone walkway and a welcoming red door with a shining brass knocker in the shape of a fox at its center. Two footmen stood beside the door and a young groom stood at the ready to take whatever mode of transportation one arrived in off to the stables that were nestled deep in the nearby woods, out of sight of prying eyes.
Nicola closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “I smell apple tarts.”
John laughed. “I’ll order us a dozen.”
Within moments, the innkeeper, a plump, bright-eyed woman who could only be Sammy Fraser’s sister, rushed forward to greet them. Indeed, she had the stout look of Sammy, and her round, dark eyes took everything in with avid interest. Her hair was a flaming red, no doubt enhanced by a good dose of henna dye. She cast them both speculative looks, her gaze ultimately resting on John with obvious approval. “Ye don’t look like my usual guests. What brings ye here, m’lord?”
Of course, John could never be mistaken for anything other than a nobleman. He commanded authority and respect, even after days on the run, unwashed, sporting a rough growth of beard, fatigued and unkempt. Nothing could diminis
h his air of strength and power, or his appeal.
Nicola did not dare think about what she must look like to Adela Fraser. A half-starved rabbit, perhaps. She did not look fine enough to be John’s paramour or even fine enough to pass for one of his servants.
“My wife and I ran into a spot of trouble. Your brother, Sammy, helped us out.”
Her dark red eyebrows shot up at the mention of her brother. “That scoundrel? What did he steal from ye?”
“My diamond locket,” Nicola said.
“Och, ye poor lass. That wretch! Did he tell ye that he’d share it with me if I gave you food and lodgings for the night?” She gave a hearty laugh when Nicola nodded. “He won’t share, you know. That isn’t Sammy’s way.”
“He won’t?” She turned to John in panic.
He took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb along her palm to calm her.
She was exhausted and hungry, not to mention too filthy to be permitted to stand in the entry hall of this charming inn. “John…”
“We’ll pay our way, Miss Fraser. I always pay my debts. I don’t care about my comfort, but my wife needs to rest.” He took out the last of their funds and was about to hand it to Sammy’s sister, but the woman stayed his hand.
“Ye’re not the sort of clientele I usually get, m’lord.” She cast Nicola a surprisingly tender smile. “I’ll not be tossing ye out, m’lovey. It’s refreshing to see a young couple in love. Married to each other, no less.”
She turned to John. “Nor will I take what is obviously the last of yer funds, though I have no doubt ye’re a man of means as well as a man of honor and would repay me. It isn’t yer blunt I want. My brother is a wretched scoundrel. No scruples whatsoever. I’ll make him pay up.”
As relief washed over her, Nicola felt herself about to turn into a watering pot. Oh, dear. She was never this weepy in all her life. Hunger and exhaustion, not to mention running for one’s life, must have done this to her.
She and John followed Sammy’s sister as she led the way to an elegantly appointed bedchamber that looked like heaven to her. A large, four poster bed with a red satin coverlet and a dozen pillows decorating the headboard dominated the room. A cozy settee stood in front of the hearth, and there was a small table with two cushioned chairs by the window.
Within moments, a footman came in to light a fire in the hearth. More servants entered carrying a tub and pails of heated water, scented soaps, a hairbrush, and a robe for her.
Nicola wanted to fling off her clothes and jump into the water. Her desire must have shown, for both John and Sammy’s sister looked at her and laughed. “I’ll leave ye in peace in a moment, lovey. Yer husband said ye enjoyed the scent of my apple tarts. My butler will bring some in along with a pot of tea for ye. It isn’t the usual request. Most of my guests ask for Sammy’s whisky, but I don’t think it’s wise for a lass in yer condition.”
Nicola pinched her lips together in a forced smile. Why did everyone so easily believe she was with child? John must have whispered in the woman’s ear. That she had accepted his remark without question was a bit unsettling.
After the tea and light repast had been delivered, Nicola turned to John and cast him a smile. “Our own little corner of paradise.”
He looked pained and uncomfortable. “I’ll check on Valor while you bathe.”
“No, John.” She paled at the thought of his leaving her. “Don’t go.”
He regarded her, confused. “I’ll only be at the stables. I won’t be far, nor will I stay there very long. I can’t just… I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable while you undress.”
She shook her head and gave a mirthless laugh. “Everyone believes we’re married and I’m carrying your child. We’ve slept together in Maeve’s bed.”
“Fully clothed.”
She nodded. “The point is, we’ve been together ever since we went on the run, our bodies in constant contact, our hearts attuned to the beat of each other’s heart. You’ve killed to protect me.” She sank onto the settee and gazed into the fire. “John, my soul has been laid bare to you. I have nothing to hide from you. Not now, not ever.”
His groan sounded pained as he came to her side and knelt beside her. “So be it,” he said, his voice a husky rumble that sent tingles shooting through her body. He reached out to slip the shawl off her shoulders, his hands caressing her as he removed it.
Wordlessly, he nudged her to her feet and began to unlace the ties of her woolen gown. She closed her eyes as more tingles shot through her body when he began to lift the gown off her. His movements were slow and sensual, his big hands sliding along her legs as he grasped the hem of her gown to draw it up.
Suddenly, he stilled. Releasing the fabric, he gave a soft curse and took a step back. “Nicola, I have something important to tell you.”
She opened her eyes, now curious to hear whatever it was he wanted to confess. He began to pace in front of her. He looked uncertain and pained. She’d never seen John look anything but sure of himself and in full command of his feelings. “You can tell me anything. Surely, you must know that by now.”
He stopped pacing and returned to her side, his grip tightening on her shoulders. He released a long, deep breath. “Nicola, we’re married.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I know that’s the story we’re telling everyone. I’m also carrying your child. Never say you are starting to believe the lies?”
“It isn’t a lie. We’re married.”
She frowned at him. “Stop saying that.”
“We’re married,” he insisted. “The ceremonial declaration I had you make in front of Sammy and his family… well, we’re in Scotland now… and what I had you recite is the equivalent of a marriage vow. When I took your hand in mine and recited those words, then had you do the same… that was a wedding ceremony. Our wedding. You’re now my wife under Scottish law. But there’s a catch.”
The blood drained from her face and she suddenly felt dizzy. Angry, too. She’d wished to marry John. Her dreams had been filled with the magic of this moment ever since she’d first met him. But to have it stolen from her, taken from her like a thief in the night. To exchange vows with the man she’d always loved and not realize this is what she was doing? “What? Are you jesting?”
Theirs was a marriage of necessity. A marriage based on a lie.
“It’s real. At least for the year. If we consummate—”
She gasped.
“If we consummate our vows, then we’re married for life.”
Her heart shot into her throat and lodged there painfully. She wanted to speak, but had trouble finding her voice. “Are you saying that I’ve trapped you into marriage?”
He gave an incredulous laugh. “You? I’m the one who trapped you. I’ve robbed you of the courtship you deserve. I’ve stolen the innocence and romance. But I want you to understand that I had no choice. Sammy was going to claim you for one of his sons unless I proved to him that we were wed.”
“So you sacrificed yourself to protect me.” She nodded. “And you’re hoping that we can quietly end this once we return to London. I understand. I won’t make it difficult for you.”
Nor would she make matters worse by crying. She needed to be strong, to deny that her breaths were short and that her heart was as shattered as her dreams. So why was he scowling at her? “Nicola, you don’t understand.”
“Yes. Yes, I do. You only married me to protect me because that’s what you always feel compelled to do. Once we’re safely back in London and Somersby is no longer a threat, you’ll expect to have your freedom back. I assure you, I won’t give you a problem.” Her brother might challenge him to a duel. Pistols at dawn. But she would make Julian see reason. After all, she’d brought this on herself. She was the one who’d allowed Somersby to court her and then she’d stolen his secret book.
John had merely done what he needed to save her life.
“Damn it, Nicola. When you put it that way…”
“How else m
ust it be stated? I don’t see you on your knees, declaring your undying love for me. What I see is a man trying to squirm out of a noose. And I’m trying to assure you that I will never tighten that noose around your neck. You’ll have your precious freedom. I’ll sign whatever document will grant you that.” She frowned at him. “So why are you still staring at me with eyes blazing?”
Suddenly, it all felt too much.
She’d opened her heart to this man and all he could say was that their marriage was a sham. All he could do was look at her with rage and turmoil in his eyes.
Truly, what more did he want from her? The answer was so easy, all he had to say was I want you, Nicola. I want you. That’s all she needed to hear from him. She wasn’t asking for an I love you. But to admit even the slightest need for her seemed overwhelming to him.
She stormed over to the tub and began to undress, no longer caring whether he watched with eyes popping wide or yawned and turned away. He could do—or not do—whatever he wished. “I will not interfere with your hopes and dreams, John. What more do you want from me?”
CHAPTER 10
“NOTHING,” JOHN SAID, his voice raw and strained, wanting to press his lips to hers with a sweet, crushing urgency. “I want nothing from you. Just wanted to be clear about our… situation.”
Nicola looked up at him, her eyes blazing. “You have been. Abundantly clear. Don’t let me delay you.” She turned away, sat down on a stool beside the tub, and began to roll the stockings off her legs. Long, exquisitely shaped legs.
John saw that her hands were shaking. Yet, she’d never let on. That was Nicola, too proud ever to admit she was hurt and vulnerable.
Her lips and chin were quivering.
He started toward her, wanting to take her into his arms. He loved how perfectly she fit in them. But he held back, for he wasn’t in control of his feelings and was not certain where it might lead. “Nicola—”
“Go check on Valor.” She refused to look at him. Instead, she stared at her stockings with enough intensity to bore a hole in them. “I’ll latch the door after you’ve gone. Give me twenty minutes to bathe and then I’ll let you back in. Take a tart with you if you’re hungry. Take all the tarts you want. Make love to as many of them as your heart desires. That’s what men do, don’t they? Have their fill and walk away?”
