Much easier to take off.
Felix’s gaze burned like flame as she yanked off the kerchief and tugged out the first pin in her bodice. “Are ye tryin’ tae kill me?” he asked, his Scots broad and deep.
“No.” She pulled out another pin. “I’m trying to make love to you.”
“Here?” he exclaimed, nonetheless following her as she backed away toward the picnic blanket he had already spread out in a sheltered spot behind the stone.
“Aye.” Another pin came out. She stabbed it carefully next to the others in the peplum of her bodice. “Just the two of us, alone in the most beautiful spot in the world, with my papa smiling down on me for choosing a good lad for my husband.”
His eyes flicked up to the sky. “Lightning might strike me…”
She laughed and removed the last pins. “Wouldn’t it be worth it?”
Felix watched as she peeled off the bodice, exposing her stays and shift. She untied her skirt and stepped out of it.
“Aye.” He yanked at his neckcloth. “It would be.”
She laughed at him, and then shrieked with more laughter as he tackled her to the picnic blanket, pinning her flat beneath him. “Mo ghràdh,” he whispered, his fingers spearing through hers as he dragged her arms above her head. He ducked his head and sucked lightly at the skin below her ear, making her quiver with longing.
“Felix,” she gasped, writhing, wanting to touch him as much as he touched her.
“Here now.” His voice was deep and rough, which made her burn inside. “Don’t rush me…”
“I’m dying of wanting you,” she confessed. “Always have been. Why do you think I begged you to do such things to me at the Assembly Rooms?” There was no reason to keep it from him, not now.
His face grew taut. Thin white lines bracketed his mouth. “Yer tryin’ to kill me,” he growled. “Ye want me to ride you hard and fast?”
“Yes,” she whimpered, pushing her hips upward into his.
“And ye want me to make you come again and again, here on this hillside?”
“Yes,” she moaned, her insides molten at the thought.
“And ye want me to leave us both spent and exhausted from pleasure?” He bit—bit!—the tender skin at the curve of her neck, and Agnes almost sobbed her answering, “yes.”
He made her wait for it. With his hands and with his mouth, he undressed her to her stockings. He brought her to one climax before he even removed his boots. He worshipped her body, murmuring Scots endearments as she recovered from the heady thrill of it—laving her breasts until she thought she would weep, tormenting her with his hand between her legs as he tasted every inch of her body until she cried out in release.
She still shuddered from that release when he finally flung off the last of his clothes. “When shall we be married?” He moved over her, his hair wild and glowing in the sunlight.
“Tomorrow,” she gasped, reaching for him.
He caught her hand and pressed it to his lips for a kiss. “Not soon enough. I take thee for my wedded wife here and now.” He spread her legs far apart and stroked her there, his touch sure and bold. Agnes thought she might go up in literal flames as her body responded once more.
“I take you,” she managed, arching her neck as he did it again.
“Mine, to love and to cherish,” he rasped, and then he pushed inside her. Her body was so soft and pliant it didn’t hurt. No, it felt good—so good—like a missing piece fitting into place, smooth and thick and hot, bearing into her until her flesh molded to his. She thrashed her head, speechless.
He lowered himself over her, his weight holding her still. “I’m yours forever,” he breathed in her ear. He nipped her earlobe, making her spasm. “And you’re mine, ’til death do us part.”
She seized his face in both hands and kissed him. With a moan, he began to move, each thrust jolting and awakening her. God how she wanted him—how she wanted this— She pulled up her knees and curled her legs around his waist, wordlessly begging him for more, harder, faster. Her heart was racing as if it would explode. She gripped his shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut, plummeting toward rapture like a stone dropped from a cliff.
With a harsh sound Felix pushed himself up on one arm. He cupped her cheek and moved, hard and relentless against her, his expression fierce and focused. Agnes came with a gasp and burst into sobs.
Felix gave a shout, shuddering against her, his weight falling forward. Incoherent, still sobbing, Agnes reached for him, and he folded her into his shaking arms, rolling them to the side. His chest heaving, his skin damp with sweat, he kissed her forehead and clasped her to him. After a moment he pulled his discarded kilt over them, and Agnes curled against him, blissfully worn out and sated.
“Now you have to marry me,” he said after a while. His fingers were running through her hair, making her want to fall asleep right where she was.
She smiled against his bare chest. Copper hairs tickled her cheek, and on a whim she touched her tongue to his nipple, pale pink and rigid. He twitched, to her pleasure. “Because you ruined me?”
“Nay, lass.” His hand flexed on the curve of her hip. “You’ve ruined me. Lightning might have struck me and I wouldn’t have noticed.”
She laughed. “’Tis a good thing I want to marry you, then. I’ll expect this sort of treatment every day.”
“Glory be to God above,” he growled.
Agnes laughed again. “Felix…” She ran her fingers over his chest, marveling at how solid and strong he was. “What do you think Drew and Ilsa are doing?”
“Something like this, I wouldn’t doubt.”
Another burst of happiness glowed inside her. “So you think he’ll marry her?”
He shifted his arm beneath her. “He wants to.”
“I hope he does.” She gazed up at the sky, absently stroking his chest.
“As long as he doesn’t give me any grief, I will wish him very happy.”
She raised her head and propped her chin on his shoulder to look him in the face. He had turned white, that day long ago, when she mentioned her brother. “You think he won’t approve?”
He grinned lazily. “You’d better marry me soon, just in case. He can’t shoot his brother-in-law.”
She gasped, then giggled, and soon they were holding each other, laughing helplessly. It was so lovely to be here, relaxed and easy, with him. Felix had known exactly what she needed—what they both needed. Fresh air, sunshine, a perfect moment to confess their love.
So much love, she didn’t know how one person could hold so much feeling inside herself.
This would be her favorite place on earth forever.
Epilogue
It was a simple matter, telling her family. Her mother took one look at her face and smiled.
“Have you some news for us, Agnes dear?”
Blushing, smiling so wide her cheeks hurt, Agnes nodded.
“Oh! Mr. Duncan!” screamed Winnie, bounding over to throw her arms around Agnes. “I knew it, I knew it!”
“At last,” cried Bella. “Oh, Agnes!”
Laughing, she embraced her sisters. “Yes, Mr. Duncan.”
“Where shall you be married? In St. Giles? Mama, we must have new gowns!”
“Now if only Drew marries Ilsa.” Bella sighed in joy. “See, Mama, everything is coming out right.”
Mama wagged a finger at her, but Bella proved correct. A few days later Drew and Ilsa reappeared in Edinburgh, weary and travel-stained. There was bad news—Ilsa’s father had disappeared, feared never to be found—but also good news: they had married in Glasgow. The St. James household rang once more with joyful cries. And when Drew visited the sheriff and the procurator-fiscal, looking once more like the heir to a dukedom, it ended with both apologizing to Ilsa for the distress they had caused her.
Agnes and Felix were married a fortnight later with their families in attendance. Mama surprised Agnes on the morning of the wedding with a new gown of pale pink satin, embroidered all over with
small white flowers. “I put this bolt aside weeks ago. I knew it was for you the moment I saw it in the warehouse,” Mama confided.
“It’s beautiful!” She hesitated, holding the beautiful gown against her. “Mama—about the shop…”
“Yes, I know.” Her mother smiled ruefully. “You want the shop, now that Andrew is taking us to England.” She sighed. “And of course you shall have it. Papa would want that. He knew you hoped to run it, someday.”
“He did?”
Mama laughed. “Well, he never thought Andrew would stand there talking about fine silks! And you’ve earned it, my dear. Papa would be very proud of you—as am I. But will your Mr. Duncan understand?”
Agnes blushed. She had already discussed everything with her future husband. “Felix understands.”
Drew walked her to the altar. No matter how she tried to pay attention, Agnes barely heard a word of the service. And then it was over, with a gold ring on her finger, her sisters chattering happily, Mama wiping away a tear, and Ilsa beaming at her. Lord Duncan kissed her forehead and pronounced himself thoroughly pleased. And Felix…
He gazed at her with love in his eyes, until a sly smile curved his mouth and he gave her a wicked wink that made her blush from head to toe.
“Oh no! But this means you won’t come to London with us!” cried Winnie
Agnes stole a glance at Felix. He raised his brows expectantly. “No,” she told her sister. “I’ve found my happy ever after in Scotland.”
And this time, the wicked wink was hers.
About this Story
This story is a companion novella to A Scot to the Heart, Drew’s and Ilsa’s story. Originally the St. James sisters were minor characters, but they kept stealing the scenes. By the time I got to the maze scene in the novel, I knew I was going to write about Agnes and Felix.
If you’d like to know how Drew met Ilsa, kissed her in the maze, haunted an attic with her, and what they did when they ran off at the end in search of her father, start reading A Scot to the Heart here.
Thank you for reading!
If you enjoyed the story, I hope you’ll consider leaving a review or rating online to help other readers.
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About the Author
Caroline Linden was born a reader, not a writer. She earned a math degree from Harvard University and wrote computer software before turning to writing fiction. Since then the Boston Red Sox have won the World Series four times, which is not related but still worth mentioning. Her books have won the NEC Reader’s Choice Award, the Daphne du Maurier Award, the NJRW Golden Leaf Award, and RWA’s RITA Award, and have been translated into seventeen languages. She lives in New England.
Also by Caroline Linden
Desperately Seeking Duke
About a Rogue
About a Kiss
A Scot to the Heart
How the Scot Was Won
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The Wagers of Sin
My Once and Future Duke
An Earl Like You
When the Marquess was Mine
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Scandals
Love and Other Scandals
It Takes a Scandal
All’s Fair in Love and Scandal
Love in the Time of Scandal
A Study in Scandal
Six Degrees of Scandal
The Secret of My Seduction
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The Truth About the Duke
I Love the Earl
One Night in London
Blame It on Bath
The Way to a Duke’s Heart
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Reece Trilogy
What a Gentleman Wants
What a Rogue Desires
A Rake’s Guide to Seduction
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Other Novels
What a Woman Needs
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Novellas and Collections
When I Met My Duchess in At the Duke’s Wedding
Map of a Lady’s Heart in At the Christmas Wedding
A Fashionable Affair in Dressed to Kiss
Will You Be My Wi-Fi? in At the Billionaire’s Wedding
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Short Stories
A Kiss for Christmas
Like None Other
Written in My Heart
How the Scot Was Won Page 15
