In a blink, Gideon was in front of her, skating backward. “Take my hands.” She did and continued to move forward, following his lead. “You’re very good, Alisabeth. I knew you would be.”
After several times around, he slowed and came to a stop. Her blades continued and her body bumped his hard chest. Her legs slipped, and she grasped at the lapels of his great coat. His arms went around her, pulling her body flush against his. It was the most glorious sensation. A throbbing began in her belly and moved lower. She gasped at the unfamiliar response.
“I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”
Her breath caught as she looked up, his face so close to hers. She couldn’t pry her eyes from his mouth. Without thought, she pulled on his coat, stretched up on her toes, and pressed her lips to his. They were soft and tasted of cloves and cinnamon. Her eyes closed as Gideon groaned then kissed the corners of her mouth.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” His husky voice sent a tremor through her body, and the pulsing increased low in her belly. She could only nod her head.
He moved against her, one arm holding her close. His gloved hand cupped her jaw, and they spun in a slow, sensuous circle while he teased and nibbled her top lip. It was everything she dreamed it would be. Sweet, dizzying, and never enough. She opened her mouth to him. When his tongue swept in, heat crashed through her body. Her arms went around his neck, and she hung on for dear life. Their bodies glided and swirled as one, connected like the perfect jigsaw puzzle. When he broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers. His thumb lazily traced the line of her jaw.
“Does this mean yes, my darling Alisabeth?”
She tried to gain control of her senses, but the desire still jumbled her brain. The sound of her panting mixed with his, puffy clouds rising between them and connecting before floating away on the crisp, cold air. Lissie closed her eyes, searching the depths of her soul for the answer. The heaviness in her chest, with her since Ian’s death, eased and the guilt receded. Her heart had decided. With a great sigh of relief, she knew it was the right choice.
She opened her eyes. Cerulean blue orbs sent another wave of heat through her core. “Yes, yes! The answer is yes.”
Gideon dipped his head and covered her mouth. This time the kiss demanded her response as he caressed her back. His hard length pressed against her thigh, and the throbbing between her legs increased. She clung to him, her mind cluttered with the touch of his hands, his velvet lips. Saints and sinners, she thought, how I love this man.
Early March 1820
London
* * *
Little Edward fussed and squalled at all the attention. The babe was swaddled in a plaid Maeve had brought from Naught Castle, a gift from his great-grandparents. His little red face screwed up and a loud belch rang out.
“Weel, he definitely has some MacNaughton in him,” laughed Maeve, rocking the child and smoothing the blonde fuzz on his tiny skull. “I wonder if his eyes will stay blue? I think I see gold specks in there.”
“I can only pray he looks like his mother,” said Marlen, running a hand through his unruly brown hair. “But I’d prefer my temperament for him.”
“Agreed,” said Etta. She kissed her brother on the cheek. “I’m so glad you could bring them, Gideon, even if it’s only for a short while.”
“My pleasure,” he said with a bow. “I wanted to see my nephew, and I had some business to attend to in London.”
Alisabeth held out her arms. “My turn, if ye please.” She cooed and buried her nose against the child’s neck.
Desire surged through Gideon as he watched her with the babe. Now that he had Lissie’s affections, he wanted to plan a future—and a family. He knew she loved him. He did not know if she would give up Scotland for him.
“He’s a bonny bairn, isn’t he?” she asked, looking over her shoulder as he moved behind her.
He kissed the top of her head and inhaled her lavender scent and the infant’s unique smell. “Yes, he’s verra bonny,” he answered in a terrible imitation that elicited moans from the family. His chest tightened when he imagined their child. A daughter with Lissie’s glossy sable locks and his MacNaughton blue eyes. A son could come later.
“Well Stanfeld, are you up for a visit to White’s tonight and lose a bit of blunt? Pendleton is in town and Lady Eliza will spend the evening here.” Marlen gave Etta a kiss on the lips and winked. “I think we should leave the females to childbirth and baby talk. I’ve had my fill for the past month.”
“That’s a splendid idea, my love. Stay out as long as you like.” She winked back at the viscount. “You have my permission.”
Gideon relaxed into the soft leather armchair with a snifter of brandy. The oak paneling gleamed in the candlelight; muffled voices of patrons floated from the hall. He had walked away from the gaming table flush with funds, much to the dismay of his companions. For the first time, guilt riddled him. He would not gamble anymore. When he looked into another player’s eyes, it was not good judge of character that told him if the man bluffed. No, it was that blasted legacy. His pride would not allow him to cut a sham, and his practical nature refused to throw money away on games of total chance.
“I wish I had your luck,” Pendleton said again. “I tell you, I want to be there when you finally lose.”
“Well, that’ll be a long wait since I’m giving it up.”
“Giving it up? Why, man? You’re my hero at the tables.” Marlen refilled the crystal glass, his gray eyes twinkling. “It’s how we met, you know, Pendleton. I’d run out of brass playing whist. Gideon had a pile of winnings and a sister who was pining for a rake.”
“I thought she set her cap for you, not the other way around,” exclaimed Pendleton.
“I was only supposed to distract her from the rogue, which I did.” He gave Gideon a side look and smirked. “I had no idea what I was getting into.”
“All’s well that ends well, as they say.” Gideon grinned. “Tell me you’re not a happy man.”
“High in the ropes, my friend, high in the ropes.” Marlen held his glass up. “In truth, I’m in your debt.”
“Speaking of beautiful women, Stanfeld, when will you make an offer on the Scottish chit?” Pendleton grinned. “Was she really hiding in the heather?”
Gideon laughed, remembering their last conversation at White’s. “No, Alisabeth was in plain sight. And I think I’ll wait until we return to Scotland this summer.”
“That’s months away,” scoffed Marlen. “I’ve seen you look at her. Why would you put yourself through that?”
“I want to be sure she’ll accept England as her home. That’s the only detail I can’t predict. While my Lissie isn’t fickle, she’s a Highland lass through and through.” He studied the intricate plaster moldings along the ceiling. “I’m luring her with my charm and good looks so she cannot imagine life without the Earl of Stanfeld.”
“A few passionate kisses never hurt either,” Pendleton said with a chuckle.
“Your position and wealth would be more than enough for most bird-witted females at Almack’s,” Marlen added. “There’s something to be said for a woman who loves the man and not the title.”
“A toast!” Pendleton emptied the decanter into their snifters. “To beautiful wise women who know our minds before we do. May we never be without them.”
“I’m so happy you finally saw reason and allowed us to have this small dinner party.” Lady Pendleton laid a hand on Lord Marlen’s arm, her violet eyes twinkling. “Etta needed a distraction. That babe hiccups and she fears it’s pneumonia.”
“You are welcome, Eliza.” Marlen smiled as he gazed across the room at his wife, her hands moving dramatically as she conversed with a group of guests. “When we found out Lachlan had been invited—and accepted—even Gideon agreed to stay a bit longer.”
Alisabeth pressed her lips together to hide the smile. Sending a letter to Lachlan had been her idea. Knowing Gideon would want to get back to Stanfeld and overs
ee the spring planting, she’d needed a legitimate excuse to prolong the visit. Etta and Eliza had been so convincing in their need for a social event after Etta’s long confinement. Never having sisters, Lissie had been easily caught up in the camaraderie between the two close friends. Besides, she and Etta may be sisters one day. The thought sent a hot rush through her.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in this room,” whispered Gideon from behind.
Her earlobe tickled from his warm breath. She closed her eyes, willing her body not to turn and fling itself against the delicious man hovering over. “And ye must be the most handsome earl in the room.” His return chuckle made the tiny diamond drops at her ears tinkle. A Christmas gift from Maeve that Lissie guessed Gideon had purchased.
“I’d like to introduce you to some friends, if you don’t mind,” he said in a more proper tone. He held out his arm and they walked into the adjoining salon.
Lissie tried to still her racing pulse. What if these friends did not like her? Did not like Scots? What if—
“They’ll love you, of course.”
The words calmed her thudding heart. How did he know? How did he always know what ailed her? “Ye always know the right words, my lord. It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you.”
He guffawed and his lips pulled into a titillating smirk. “The correct verbiage may come out of my mouth, but if you could hear the occasional jumble inside my head… Well, let’s just say you would not be as impressed.”
“Och, there is not much that could lower my opinion of ye, Lord Stanfeld. Or yer friends.” She squeezed his arm. “I’m looking forward to meeting new acquaintances.”
The first was an attractive older man with silver streaking his white-blond hair. “You’ve been holding out on us, Stanfeld. Who is this diamond of the first water?”
“Mrs. MacNaugton, may I present Sir Horace Franklin. He was a business associate and close friend of my father’s since I can remember.” Gideon inclined his head toward the older gentleman. “And this is my good friend Lord Sunderland.”
Both men bowed and Alisabeth ducked in a slight curtsy, not sure if that was proper protocol or not. Gideon had not mentioned any titles, and she was still learning the intricacies of the ton.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” replied Sunderland, a gleam in his black eyes. “So this is the exquisite creature who bewitched Stanfeld.”
She blushed. Maeve had warned her that rumors spread through London faster than a plague on a ship. “I’m afraid I canna take the credit. It was the faeries that bewitched him. I just happened to be the first female he laid eyes on after they cast their spell.”
Both men laughed and Gideon smiled good-naturedly. “I suggest you keep her away from Grace. Your wife will have her and the faeries casting out the ghosts at Sunderland castle.”
“Ghosts?” That garnered Lissie’s attention. “Your home is haunted?”
“By one of my ancestors, it seems. My dear wife has been pouring through books to find out how to send them on their way.” Sunderland ran a hand through his raven hair. “ In the meantime, she’s managed to make friends with them. Or so she tells me.”
“How do you make—”
“There ye are, lass. Ye’re harder to track than a deer with wings.” Lachlan’s voice boomed from the doorway. “Come and give yer handsome brother a hug.”
Alisabeth almost ran to Lachlan and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. “How are ye, ye big brute? Any limp?”
“Nay, I could race ye around Hyde Park on the morrow.” He looked around, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief at the stares they were receiving. “It appears affection is not shown between family at parties. Or perhaps in all of England?”
She giggled. “Perhaps not with the same enthusiasm as we Scots share. But I must say, ye are the best dressed man in the whole of London.”
Lachlan patted his dress sporran, hung about his waist with a silver chain, and then pointed his toe to show off his polished black buckle shoes, fine tartan hose, and silver garter flashes. With a grin, he looked around the room. “I’ll have to agree with ye, lass. I am indeed.”
“When did you arrive? Did you settle in at the townhouse?” Gideon asked as they shook hands. “I thought perhaps you ran into some bad weather.”
“I arrived late last night and didna want to bother ye. I took a room at Limmer’s and finished up some business this afternoon.” He winked at Lissie. “Now I’m ready for some entertainment and a meal.”
“You’re in luck. It’s almost time to eat.” Gideon slapped his cousin on the back just as dinner was announced.
The guests began moving toward the door when Lissie heard Lachlan swear under his breath. Before she could ask what was wrong, he was striding across the room. The woman she had seen at the MacNaughton’s Textile stood in the far corner, her eyes darting around the room as if looking for a way to escape.
“Isn’t that the clerk from the mill?” she asked Gideon.
He squinted and took in the woman shaking her head at Lachlan. Tears shone in her eyes and she shook her head violently, sending her white blonde curls flying against her wet cheeks. Then the Scott turned on his heel and marched from the room, fury reddening his face.
“Who was that?” she asked as the woman ran through another door, escaping the curious eyes of the guests.
“My daughter Fenella,” replied Sir Horace. “If you’ll excuse me?”
“That name sounds familiar.” Gideon, an impish grin on his face, placed her hand in the crook of his elbow as the older gentleman followed his daughter from the room. “Mama always said if you want to avoid humdrum, invite a MacNaughton. I can’t wait to hear my cousin’s explanation. One day in Scotland and he already has the tongues wagging.”
But they never heard Lachlan’s side of the story. He left for Glasgow that night, leaving a curt note along with his apologies for the sudden departure. Eliza and Etta had gleamed bits and pieces of the scandal. It seemed Lachlan had met Miss Franklin in Glasgow while she was visiting her great-grandmother. Some misunderstanding had sent Lachlan into a rage and the girl into tears. Lissie knew her brother-in-law. If a woman could make him that angry, he cared for her. And as stricken as the girl had been, she obviously held him in her affections. Alisabeth would tread carefully on their next visit to Glasgow, but she would find out the circumstances. A smile played on her lips as she thought of the mighty Lachlan falling for a female.
Chapter 13
“A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is brave five minutes longer.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
Late March 1820
Stanfeld Estate
“I didn’t want to interrupt your breakfast, my lady, but a letter arrived in the post for you.” Sanders placed a silver tray in front of Lissie. “Since it was from Scotland, I thought you’d like to see it immediately.”
She touched his arm as he drew away. “Thank ye, Sanders. Ye are so kind to me.”
“Of course, my lady,” he mumbled, red seeping into the deep crevices of his neck and cheeks.
“The only other person who has ever been able to make that man blush was my little sister, Helen,” said Gideon with a shake of his head. “And it was her lack of manners rather than her sweet ways that caused it.”
Alisabeth ran a knife under the wax. “Odd, it’s a plain seal, not the Craigg’s or MacNaughton’s.” She opened the paper and scanned to the bottom. Apprehension skittered up her spine. “It’s from Colin.”
“Why would he be writing to you?” Gideon put down his cup of coffee and leaned forward. “There must be something wrong.”
Lissie read the words, her voice unsteady.
* * *
March 23, 1820
Madam,
If ye are still willing to help us, come to Glasgow. Merchants gather to demand representation, and skilled artisans cry for fair wages. The turmoil is creating mobs of angry, hungry folk with Lachlan in the thick of it
. The political group he’s involved with is talking rebellion, and I fear for him. A late blizzard hit the Highlands, so Calum canna come. I’m not in the position to advise the lad, but he’ll listen to ye, his brother’s widow.
* * *
Colin
* * *
“How old is that letter?” Maeve asked from the doorway, her face pale as ivory.
“About a week.” Lissie stood, her brow furrowed with concern. “Maeve, you dinna look well.”
Gideon was at her side, helping her to a chair. Lissie poured more tea, irritated with her unsteady hand.
Gideon saw her distress and took the cup, handing it to his mother. “Drink this, Mama. Did you not sleep well?”
“I had a dream, a terrible dream.” Fear shone in her blue eyes. “It was a double hanging. I dinna know the first man but the second was Lachlan.”
Lissie sank into the chair next to Maeve, her hand over her mouth. Peigi had told her about Maeve’s visions. She did not doubt this one, though there was hesitation in Gideon’s eyes. Not Lachlan too. They canna take both grandsons, her mind screamed.
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions.” The earl gritted his teeth.
“I must leave for Glasgow immediately,” Lissie said in a raw voice, the panic rising in her throat. “I must pack.”
“I will go with ye, lass.” Maeve went to rise from the chair.
Gideon put a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “You will do no such thing. I will go.”
“Lachlan may not listen to ye, Gideon. If the English have anything to do with this, he could question your loyalty.” Maeve’s eyes were hard. “We must all go.”
“I’m sorry but I cannot allow it. It’s too dangerous.” He bent and kissed the top of her head. “Have faith in me, Mama. I’ll have Sanders begin preparations now.”
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