The Scholar and the Scot

by Lee, Caroline

  “Oh!” Olive’s gasp jerked Phin’s attention back to her. “Oh, you naughty boy! Come back here!”

  It wasn’t until she stumbled, arms out, in the completely wrong direction, as Ewan darted away, giggling, that Phin realized what had happened. “He stole yer spectacles?”

  “Yes!” she cried. “I can’t see a thing!”

  “Damn!” Where’d that scamp go? Ah… “Stay here, I’ll run him down—”

  “No!” It was the panic in her voice which made him turn back to her. “No, don’t leave me, Phineas. Please!” She was reaching blindly for him, and the frantic fear in her expression made his heart clench.

  “Shh, lass. Dinnae fash.” He stepped closer until her hands could reach him. “I’m here. I’ll no’ leave ye.”

  With a grateful whimper, Olive stepped closer, her hands questing, touching, feeling. “Phineas,” she whispered.

  “Aye.” He wasn’t sure if he were asking or agreeing, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “Phineas,” she breathed again, as her fingertips brushed against his cheek, then his lips, before fluttering up to caress his brow. Her other hand had dropped to his stomach, and he felt his muscles clench under her touch.

  That wasn’t the only thing clenching though. In the space of a half-dozen heartbeats, most of his blood had pooled below his stomach, and he felt his cock hardening, even as her palm brushed against the wool of his waistcoat.

  “Phineas,” she whispered a third time, and he wondered if she could sense his arousal.

  “Aye, love,” he croaked out, his palms already itching as he reached for her; the need to claim her overriding all common sense.

  “There you two are!”

  Phin jerked away from Olive, but surged back when he remembered her panic, and turned them both to face Lady Fangfoss, who clutched her husband’s arm in one hand and her muddy skirts in the other. “We’ve been wondering where you two had gone off to.” She eyed Phin’s hand on Olive’s arm. “Not being naughty, I hope?”

  “Miss Julia?” Olive’s face swung back and forth, as if trying to find the source of the voice. “Is that you?”

  The countess clucked as they came closer. “It’s Lady Fangfoss, dear. I’m certain I’ve reminded you of that fact before. What’s wrong?”

  She peered closer at her ex-student, and Phin pulled Olive a bit nearer, as if protecting her. Olive clutched at him gratefully.

  “I’ve lost my spectacles, Miss— Lady Fangfoss.”

  “Oh, dear!” The older woman began to peer at the ground, obviously thinking they’d been dropped.

  Before Phineas could speak up—not that he was certain he wanted to blame wee Ewan in front of their host and hostess—Olive did. “I have a second pair in my room. If Mr. Prince would be so kind as to escort me back there, I’ll be fine.” Her grip on his arm tightened. “I don’t think I can make it back alone.”

  The countess peered at them, then turned to exchange a knowing look with her husband. “Oh, very well, but be discreet please. I don’t want everyone knowing one of my girls was foolish enough to lose her spectacles!”

  “Discreet is my middle name,” Phin intoned drily. “Come along, Miss L’arbre. I shall return ye—discreetly—to the house where ye might retrieve yer second set of spectacles.” As she clutched at his arm, and he moved her away from their host and hostess and avoided the group strolling up the river path, he murmured to Olive, “And I’ll do my best to fetch yer original pair from that scamp, Ewan.”

  She patted his arm distractedly, and he could tell from how tense she was that she was concerned about the path ahead. So he did his best to keep his voice calm and his steps slow as he described the route they were taking. As the minutes passed with them strolling carefully back toward the manor house, he felt her slowly relax.

  As they passed the hedge maze, she finally spoke. “You must think me foolish.”

  Her voice was little more than a whisper, but it surprised him. “Why would ye say something like that?”

  “I dream of adventures—of seeing the world the way you have—and I can’t even walk back to the manor without my spectacles.”

  Hating her tone of derision, Phin tightened his hold on her arm. “There’s a right turn coming up, then the steps. Having to wear spectacles is nae reason no’ to see the world, Olive.”

  “It is if I can’t see the world.” She responded to his nudge, and they turned toward the steps of the side door he’d been leading her toward. “What if I was in the depths of some temple somewhere and I triggered a booby trap, but my spectacles fell off and I froze?”

  As they entered the house, Phin shivered at the thought of being helpless in some of the situations he’d been in. Still, he didn’t want to frighten her, so he tucked his hat under his arm and assured her, “Most archaeology doesnae involve quite so many dangers, love. It can be hot and dry and boring work, with the only risk being sunstroke or yer fingers cramping around yer shovel. Mind the stairs here.”

  “But still,” she insisted, as they climbed toward her room, “if I were to lose my spectacles in such a situation…”

  This time, he chuckled under his breath. “Then I’ll lead ye back to yer rooms to find yer spare pair.”

  It wasn’t until she pulled him to a stop that he realized what his promise had meant. Standing there in the hallway, she lifted her hands to his face, her fingertips brushing across his cheeks.

  And there goes my cock again.

  He should have a headache with his blood jumping up and down through his body as much as it did, but somehow, he just didn’t mind a bit.

  “What if you’re not there, Phineas?” she whispered.

  He captured her fingers in his and brought them to his lips so he could kiss the delicate pads on the tips. If she joined him in his adventuring, these fingertips wouldn’t remain soft for long, but would become callused and experienced like his own.

  He found he didn’t hate the thought.

  “I’ll be there, Olive,” he whispered against her skin. “I promise.”

  The smile which bloomed across her face was appealing enough to make him clear his throat and step away. He had to get her into her room before someone came by and wondered at the two of them.

  “Besides,” he began as he took her elbow and ushered her into the room she indicated, “spectacles arenae the hindrance ye suppose. We’ll just connect the arms with string, which will rest across the back of yer neck, and that way, if they do fall off, they’ll just fall to yer chest.”

  She was still smiling as she shut the door behind them, and it took a moment for Phin to realize she’d given them the privacy he’d been hoping for.

  “That’s really quite brilliant,” she admitted. “I should start doing that now perhaps.”

  “Perhaps,” he murmured, distracted by the possibilities.

  She began to feel her way around the room, and he jumped forward to help. “What do ye need?”

  “The desk beside the window.” She nodded toward it while hesitatingly moving in that direction. “Blast! I hate how blind I am!”

  As they reached the desk, he leaned down and brushed a kiss across her nose. “Ye are perfect in every way.”

  She froze, not even breathing as far as he could tell.

  And then, just when he wondered if he’d offended her, her hands reached for his face again, but instead of caressing him, she grabbed his cheeks and pulled him down toward her.

  He was smiling when his lips crushed against hers, and why not? This was the second time she’d kissed him this way, letting him know exactly what she liked, so how could he not love a woman like that?

  This kiss was hot and furious and desperate, and seemed to pick up where they’d left off that evening beside the window in the library. Her fingers dug through the hairs at the back of his head, and his hat fell to the floor with a thump neither of them acknowledged. His hands were on her arms, then her hips, pulling her closer.

  The feel of
her pressed against him like this, even in her morning gown and all the corsets women wore to hold themselves in, was driving Phin mad. He needed her; he needed to feel her.

  “Olive,” he murmured against her skin as his lips trailed down her jaw, “I need…”

  “Yes!” she gasped, arching against him. “I need you too, Phineas!”

  That hadn’t been what he’d meant, but he wasn’t going to pass on an invitation like that. With a growl, he tightened his hold on her waist and lifted her.

  When her rear end hit the surface of the desk, her legs fell open as she wriggled backward invitingly. All he could do was step up and settle himself between her legs as his lips crashed down atop hers once more.

  The little mews of encouragement were all he needed, and one hand found and cupped her breast through the silk of her gown, delighted to realize she wasn’t wearing a corset today. She arched into his touch, even as she groped at his backside, trying to draw him closer.

  Aye, lass. That’s the way.

  His throbbing cock was nestled against her inner thigh, and when she began to pump her hips, he knew what she wanted.

  What she needed.

  His thumb found her nipple through the fabric, and he wished he had the time to unbutton her far enough so he could taste her there, but she was too close—he could tell—to waste any time.

  Her hands dropped from him and fumbled for her skirts. As she drew them up over her knees, she wrapped her legs around him, linking her ankles behind his arse and settling his cock directly over the wet heat he so desperately needed.

  But some semblance of reason kept him from reaching for the button of his trousers. He didn’t want to take her innocence like this, not when he wasn’t certain about so many things.

  But he could bring her the pleasure she was desperate for.

  As she nibbled at his jaw, whispering harsh words of need against his skin, he dragged his palm up her smooth thigh. He shifted to one side, and his questing fingers found her damp drawers. When he pushed aside the split to brush his finger down her wet folds, she jerked hard against him.

  He froze, afraid he was moving too quickly, but her legs tightened around him, and she shifted her hands to the sides of his face again, pulling his mouth against hers, and darting her tongue across the seam of his lips.

  With a pleased groan, he stroked her core, loving how aroused she was for him. He took the time to draw her lower lip into his mouth, nibbling the way he’d been dreaming of, as his thumb found her hidden pearl. As soon as he brushed her clitoris, she moaned and began to thrust her hips against his hand.

  Obliging her unspoken request, he slid first one, then two fingers into her warmth, and was rewarded with a desperate whimper.

  Her hands fumbled at his neck, then pulled his head down to her shoulder as she buried her face against him. Smiling, he nipped gently at her skin, then used the pad of his thumb to brush against her clitoris once more.

  She thrust her hips toward him, then back again, trying to join in the ancient dance, and the sensation was too much for Phin. The knowledge he was holding this incredible woman in his arms—or rather, she was holding him—and his fingers were inside her…sent him over the edge.

  It had been years since he’d soiled the inside of his trousers, but could he be blamed? Her wetness coated the outside, where she was rubbing her core against him, and now…?

  With a groan, Phin felt his cock spill, pressed tightly against the inside of his smalls.

  Perhaps she noticed, because she stiffened, her arms locking him in place against her, and her legs tightening around his waist. He had just enough time to wonder if he’d done something wrong.

  Then he felt her inner muscles constrict around his fingers.

  Grinning against her skin, he gently pumped his fingers in and out of her core, allowing her to ride his hand to completion. It seemed to last forever, her breathing harsh against his neck, her muscles tight around him everywhere except her core, where she pulsed in time with her orgasm.

  After, she collapsed, and he held her against him with his free arm and tried to control his breathing.

  Dear Zeus, he’d never—not once—felt something so compelling. Never felt an urge—a need—so strong.

  And he hadn’t even made proper love to the lass.

  And if he ever were lucky enough to truly make Olive his, what they would do would certainly be making love.

  “Phineas…” Her murmur had him straightening, making sure everything was acceptable.

  The satisfied smile she granted him, as she dropped her palms against the desk and leaned her weight on them, told him things were more than acceptable; in fact, they were magnificent.

  As carefully as he could, he pulled his fingers from inside her, pulled his hand from her drawers, and tried to rearrange her skirts. Her legs fell to either side of his hips, and she looked as though she’d been well and truly loved.

  Phin wanted to smirk in pride over the sight of her, but when he stepped back, the sticky sensation at the front of his trousers made him wince. He’d actually soiled his smalls like a lad? How embarrassing.

  How wonderful.

  “I think I’d better leave ye,” he murmured, as he tightened the fingers which still held her essence into a fist by his side. “Ye can find yer spectacles?”

  A confused look darted across her face, then she nodded and fumbled for the drawer beside her right knee. She came up with a pair of spectacles, which she slid over her nose, and smiled in satisfaction.

  By Zeus, that smile made him want her again.

  But his cock was decidedly uncomfortable in its sticky confines, and he needed to find a change of clothes before anyone noticed him sneaking about in soiled trousers.

  With another wince, he stepped back, taking one of her hands in his. He lifted it to his lips and brushed a kiss across the backs of her fingers. “Thank ye, Olive. That was lovely.”

  She blushed but held his gaze. “Thank you. For…for everything.”

  “For helping ye back to the house so ye can find yer spectacles?” He winked.

  Her chin rose. “For everything. Including, yes, your help. And…” She glanced away. “And for thinking well enough of me to ask my opinion about the dig and the sphaera and, well…” She shrugged, still not looking at him. “Everything.”

  It was that everything he couldn’t stop thinking of. He brushed another kiss across her fingers, then squeezed them. “One day soon, love, ye’ll see yerself as I see ye and realize how brilliant ye are. We’ll find that sphaera. I ken it.”

  She straightened, meeting his eyes once more. “We will! We just need to go back to the ruins and poke around a bit more.”

  The thought of poking with her made him wince again, knowing he’d be hard-pressed to think of anything besides the way she’d felt pulsing around his fingers.

  She pulled her hand from his, twining her fingers together in her lap. With a slight frown, she focused her attention on them. “And I’ll try to think of whatever it is nagging at my memory.”

  Phin stepped back a third time, awkwardly. He didn’t want to leave her like this, but he needed to change, and he suspected she needed a moment alone as well. What he wanted was to strip her of her clothing and pull her into bed and cuddle with her under the cozy blankets.

  But what he was going to do was leave her in peace for a while.

  Besides, after what they’d just shared, there was something he needed to do, and someone he needed to speak to.

  Since she didn’t appear to be paying him any attention, he nodded briskly, and turned for the door.

  Like a coward.

  Chapter 6

  “Olive, dear. It’s your turn. Olive?”

  Olive started, realizing she was lost in thought, staring at the way the weak summer sunlight reflected off the windows on the manor house’s southern side. She turned back to her friends, her croquet mallet in her hands.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, then stepped up to the ball
and whacked it without much attention. To no one’s surprise, it went wide of the wicket.

  Tsking happily, Charity jumped forward for her turn. “You shall have to do better than that if you want to best me at my favorite game!”

  “Oh, croquet is yer favorite game, is it?” teased Raina, her mallet resting jauntily on her shoulder. “I thought yer favorite games involved turning Society on its collective ear.”

  Charity winked over her shoulder. “It is so much fun!”

  “Honestly, how I’m the ruined one, and she isnae, just boggles the mind.”

  Melanie patted her shoulder comfortingly. “Charity’s just never been caught. You were.”

  As Raina rolled her eyes, Charity made an excellent shot, then crowed. “See? You’d have to get up pretty early in the morning to beat me—”

  “It would be better to not go to bed at all,” Olive interrupted.

  Although it had been a joke, Charity hummed and leaned a bit closer. “You are looking peaky. Peakish?” She waved a hand toward Raina. “What is the word I am looking for?”

  “I dinnae ken. Olive’s our wordsmith.”

  “Well, I am not very well going to ask her for the word to describe her wan looks. Wan? Is that the word?”

  Melanie hefted her mallet with a huff of exasperation. “She means you look as if you haven’t slept, Olive. There,” she said to Charity, “see how simple that was?”

  “Nothing’s simple with Charity,” murmured Raina teasingly, but their friend ignored her.

  “Are you feeling well, Olive?” Charity asked in concern as she stepped closer. “You used to look like this when you had been up all night reading. Did you find a particularly good book?”

  Olive couldn’t tell if her friend’s hopeful tone was because she wanted to borrow said book, or because she was hoping Olive hadn’t been awake all night fretting. Unfortunately, she’d have to disappoint Charity.

  After yesterday’s remarkable interlude in her bedroom, Phineas had…disappeared. He’d held her so tenderly, so wonderfully, and had shown her more bliss than she’d ever experienced on her own.