Ross folded his arms, scowling. “It’s nae….” he began before huffing and giving her a sheepish look. “Ye’ll think me daft.”
Freddie stopped smiling and leaned over him, kissing his nose, and then his mouth. “I would never, never think that.”
She watched as he pursed his lips, considering before looking back at her. “Will ye wait until we get home? I’d rather show ye than try and explain.”
Sensing that this was something important to him, Freddie nodded.
“Tomorrow will be just fine,” she said, kissing his cheek and snuggling back into his side.
His heavy arm wrapped around her, and she felt warm, loved, and delightfully sleepy. Suddenly tomorrow was a wonderful thing to consider, as were all the days to come after, and Freddie slept, dreaming dreams that were not fairy stories, of a castle on a hill, filled with golden haired boys with ridiculously long eyelashes and a father they could be proud of.
Epilogue
“Wherein a family reunion.”
Ross snorted as Sam rolled his eyes. He didn’t give a damn if he looked like a lovelorn sap, he felt like one and it was marvellous.
The carriage swayed, rolling them steadily back to the castle, and Freddie sighed and cuddled into him. She’d barely opened her eyes since the carriage had rocked to motion. Not that it surprised him, he’d not let her get a great deal of sleep last night.
A smile curved over his mouth as he remembered.
“Ugh, this is nauseating,” Sam said, looking revolted. “The moment this bloody downpour stops, I’m riding your horse back. If you keep this up, I may even take my chances with pneumonia and do it anyway.”
“Ach, hold yer weesht,” Ross said, grinning.
Sam frowned at him. “Hold my… what did you say?”
“I said, shut yer gob,” he repeated, shaking his head with impatience.
“Oh.” Sam subsided back against the squabs. “That’s all right then.”
“I’ve nae forgiven ye for stealing away with my wife,” Ross added, though in truth he had, he just enjoyed bickering with his brother. “Thinking of the two of ye alone together all day in this carriage does wretched things to my temper.”
“Well, then I suggest you stop thinking about it,” Sam retorted. “As I’ve not forgiven you for treating my friend so badly, you hard-headed clodpole.”
The two men stared at each other for a moment.
“Oh, do shut up,” Freddie complained, not bothering to open her eyes. “I can hear you both glowering and grinding your teeth.”
“You cannot hear us glowering,” Sam said with a snort.
“I can,” she replied darkly. “And I’m trying to sleep, so stop it.”
“Aye, stop disturbing my wife, Pelham,” Ross said, smirking.
“That goes for you, too,” Freddie said, poking him in the ribs and provoking an exclamation from Ross, who jolted in his seat.
Freddie opened her eyes and looked up while Sam convulsed with laughter.
“Oh, my God, you just squealed like a little girl,” Sam spluttered, looking utterly delighted.
Ross frowned, irritated now. “I didnae,” he objected.
“You did rather,” Freddie said, staring at him in amusement.
“Ye’re supposed to be on my side!” he exclaimed.
“I am, but that’s too funny to ignore,” she said, looking entranced as she added, “You’re ticklish.”
“Ah amnae,” he said, squirming away from her as her small hands reached for his sides.
“What did he say?” Sam asked.
“He said he isn’t,” Freddie replied, going in for the attack. “But I think he’s lying.”
She demonstrated this to great effect as Ross really did squeal like a girl.
“Stop, stop!” he demanded, torn between laugher and indignation as she reduced him to a squirming heap.
“That’s adorable,” she said taking pity and letting him catch his breath. Ross huffed, ignoring Sam, who was smirking, but then he caught the look in Freddie’s eyes, so full of happiness and love that he was instantly mollified.
“I see ye will be a cruel and heartless wife,” he said, pretending to sulk.
“Aye,” Freddie murmured, mimicking his accent. “But I’ll always kiss it better.”
He grinned at that and leaned down, stealing a kiss while Sam grumbled and tugged his hat down over his eyes.
Ross chuckled, unrepentant, and kissed her again.
***
It was late in the afternoon when the carriage finally arrived at Tor Castle.
Ross watched the forbidding structure as it drew closer, dwarfed in the shadow of the dark mountain at its back. It was not a pretty place, nor an especially welcoming one, not on the outside at least. Inside, there was still much to do, but it had the possibility to be a warm and comfortable home, somewhere they could be happy—with a bit of work. Ross smiled as he realised the castle suited its owner rather well.
One day there would be children here, lots of them, he hoped. That made a lump rise to his throat and his heart fill his chest until he thought it would burst. He’d been a bloody fool. It terrified him to realise how close he’d come to losing the woman at his side. Never again, he promised. He would learn to share his feelings with her, to talk about the things that troubled him, to trust her to love him enough to forgive him for his faults. God knew there were enough faults to send her running for the hills rather than face him, but he knew now that her heart was big enough to cope with them, and him.
Mrs Murray, Digby, Maggie, and Sampson all hurried outside to greet them, all of them exclaiming with joy as they saw Sam returning with both Ross and Freddie together.
“Look!” Freddie exclaimed, holding up her hand to show the iron wedding ring the blacksmith had been kind enough to provide for them.
Mrs Murray burst into tears and hugged them both before scolding Ross until his ears burned. He let her rage at him for a moment before picking her up and hugging her, kissing her cheek. He wasn’t about to win any medals for perceptiveness any time soon, but even he knew she’d been worried sick, afraid he’d messed everything up despite her best efforts.
“Thank ye,” he said, setting her back down again with care. “For always being there, and for never giving up on me.”
To his astonishment, his indomitable housekeeper threw her arms about him and hugged him tight, still sobbing. “Ye great lummox, don’t ye know I love ye like my own son?” she said, laughing and sniffing as Ross swallowed hard and blinked a lot.
He knew she’d lost her sons, one after the other, and to think her heart was large enough to allow him a place, despite her sorrow, was humbling.
“Oh!” she said, letting him go at last and wiping her eyes. “But there’s so much to do. We must celebrate!” she said, a glint in her eyes that promised she was about to whip the household into a frenzy.
Digby approached him before Mrs Murray could start issuing orders, and shook Ross’ hand with such warmth Ross couldn’t help but be touched by his enthusiasm.
“I’m so happy for you, Captain, and for Mrs Moncreiffe. It will be an honour to serve you both.”
“Aye, well, I’d be honoured if ye would stay Digby, and Mrs Digby, of course.”
Digby beamed at him, too choked to do anything but continue to pump his hand up and down.
“Let the poor man go, Arnold,” Maggie said, coming to take his arm and smile at Ross. “I’m so glad everything worked out for the best,” she whispered. “She would have been wretched without you.”
“Nae so wretched as myself, I assure ye,” Ross said, meaning it and earning himself an approving smile from Maggie. He walked over to where Sam and Sampson were talking together and cleared his throat. Holding his hand out to Sampson, he gave a crooked grin. “I’m sorry for knocking ye down, and I’m grateful tae ye for making me see sense. I’ll nae forget it.”
“That’s what brothers do,” Sampson said, shrugging and shaking his hand, pleased b
y his apology. “And I’m sure they’ll be time enough to get my own back. You strike me as a man one often feels like punching in the nose.”
Ross snorted and did not disagree.
“Well, I like that,” Sam said, folding his arms and looking at Sampson with indignation. “He beat seven shades of hell out of me and you’re the one that gets the apology!”
“He didnae disappear with the woman I love,” Ross said with a snort. “Ye are lucky I didnae rip yer balls off, and don’t ye forget it.”
Sam blanched and then glowered. “And what else was I supposed to do when the poor woman—who happens to be my friend—told me what an unmitigated ass you’d been and begged me to take her away? She was crying fit to break the hardest of hearts, let me tell you. Unlike some, I’m not a monster.”
It was Ross’ turn to pale, horrified at the description of Freddie’s distress at his stupid and cruel behaviour.
“Aye,” he said, feeling like the lowest, crawling creature on the planet. “Perhaps ye ought to have beaten me a damn sight harder than ye did.”
Sam gave a laugh and slapped him on the back. “Oh, I think kneeing you in the bollocks brought you to your senses well enough.”
Sampson guffawed at his brother’s smug grin, and Ross had no choice but to laugh. He had been an ass, but he had a lifetime to make up for it, and he would not waste a second of it.
“And I hope ye’ll be providing yer wife with a proper ring, Captain,” Mrs Murray remarked, wagging a finger at him. “I’ll nae have the tattle-tongues down in the village saying ye are a pinch-penny.”
“Aye, Mrs Murray,” he said, grinning and taking Freddie’s hand as she moved back to him, and raising it to his lips. “I’ll get her a gold band at my earliest opportunity, but for now, if ye will all excuse us, I would like to take my wife for a walk.”
Freddie looked at him in surprise, but he tugged her hand and she followed.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Ross glanced down at her, a burst of happiness surging through him at seeing her here.
This was his land, his place, his home, and he’d never expected to share it. He’d bought it thinking he might find some measure of peace here, a place where he could pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist and would never bother him again, but Phineas Wycliffe had not been content to leave him be. He’d refused to let him give up on the world and life, and had inveigled himself into Ross’ life and become his friend, despite every objection and barrier that Ross had given him.
“I thought tomorrow we’d go to Fort William,” he said, ignoring her question for the moment, “and visit the church there.” Ross turned to look at her and smiled. “Yer uncle is buried there and… and I thought perhaps we might go and….”
Freddie tugged him to a halt and reached up, grasping the back of his neck and drawing his head down so she could kiss him. “What a lovely man you are, Captain Moncreiffe,” she said, her voice as soft as the look in her eyes. “I think that’s a splendid idea.”
Ross fought a blush and shrugged, wondering if his wife would always have the knack of reducing him to stammering boy. Not that he minded. He drew her closer, putting his arms about her. “Aye, well, I… I thought we should go and… well, I need to thank the canny auld devil for sending ye to me,” he said, reaching up and cupping her lovely face with his hand. “I’ll never be able to thank him enough, but I should like to pay my respects.”
That earned him another kiss, and Ross began to see the sense in speaking what was in his heart. If this was the reaction it got, it was well worth the effort and the occasional surge of embarrassment.
That said, as they approached his glasshouse, his feet began to drag. He stopped before it was in view.
“What is it?” Freddie asked, looking perplexed. “You never told me where we were going.”
Ross cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Aye, umm….”
He cleared his throat again.
“Ye wanted to know… why….”
For heaven’s sake, just spit it out man.
He took a deep breath.
“The scent ye noticed,” he said, hoping that would clarify things without too much explanation.
Freddie’s eyes lit with interest as she realised her mystery was about to be solved.
“Vanilla!” she exclaimed.
“Aye.” Ross nodded, wondering what else to say and then giving up on the idea. “Ach, come on, I’d best just show ye,” he muttered, striding on before turning again. “Close your eyes,” he said, knowing he was being idiotic but… well, when had that ever stopped him?
Freddie did as he asked without question and he guided her to the glasshouse. He unlocked the door, helping her over the threshold and into the warm, scented interior.
He heard her inhale, watched the smile dawn over her lovely mouth.
“Vanilla,” she breathed, though she did not open her eyes.
“Aye,” he said. “And this is my confession, Freddie. There are some other lovely ladies in my life besides my wife, my exotic beauties. They’re damned temperamental and horribly expensive, and I’ve lavished more time and money on them than I care to consider, but they were the ones that comforted me before ye came into my life. I hope that ye will not mind if I pay them a little attention now and then, for ye have won my whole heart, mo chridhe, but it would pain me to turn my back on them after they gave me so much.”
He bent and kissed her mouth. “Open your eyes,” he whispered.
Ross watched her face, watched astonishment widen her eyes and a delighted smile dawn on her beautiful face.
“Oh, Ross,” she breathed, sounding awed. “How… how… glorious.”
He watched her moving between the orchids, bending to inhale their perfume and touch a finger to their perfect, delicate blooms.
“I brought the first home with me when I sold out. I got it from a fellow I met on my journey back home,” he told her, wanting to explain something he’d never told another living soul. “I won it at cards and, honestly, at the time I wondered if I was being sold magic beans,” he said, laughing now. “It was all root, and odd looking at that, but he told me how to care for this ugly little thing, and when the first flower bloomed….”
Ross blushed, but could not hide the truth from her.
“It was so beautiful, Freddie, so delicate and… and I’d cared for it. I’d helped bring this beautiful thing into the world. It made me feel like after all the ugliness I’d seen and been a part of, after all the waste and destruction and violence, that… that I could make amends. Give something back, no matter how small.”
Freddie was staring at him, tears in her eyes.
“Ye don’t think….” He paused wondering if she understood what he was rambling on about or was crying because she’d married such a peculiar fellow.
“Think what?” she managed, her voice thick.
Ross shrugged, not sure how to put it into words. “Well, it’s not…. Ach, Freddie, if any of the lads I served with saw this, they’d laugh themselves stupid. It’s not the kind of thing….” He gave a huff of frustration before exclaiming, “I’m a Highlander, for the love of God!”
Freddie gave a startled little laugh, which she smothered quickly and hurried towards him.
“Oh, Ross,” she said, unable to keep the smile from her eyes though they glittered with tears, her voice filled with love. “If this is the darkest secret you have, I don’t think there is anything to worry about. I think if you care this much and this tenderly for your orchids, I know our children will be the most loved and luckiest ever to be born. What a wonderful father you will make, fierce enough to protect us from anything that may come our way, and gentle enough to show your heart.”
A tear slid down her cheek and Ross touched it with a finger, too overwhelmed by her words to say anything himself.
“And as for anyone else,” she added with a smile, “I’ll take your secret to my grave, I swear, and if anyone discove
rs it, we’ll say they’re mine.”
He swallowed, leaning his forehead against hers. “Ye don’t think me foolish?”
Freddie’s small hands cupped his face, warm and soft and her touch so sweet. “I think you are everything I could ever want, and I love you so much I don’t know how my heart can contain it.”
He kissed her for that, and the damp warmth of the glasshouse, the exotic scent of the blooms, and the delicious heat that her nearness fired in his blood were too potent a set of temptations to resist.
Ross lifted her onto a clear space on the work surface he used for potting, tugging her skirts up as she wrapped her legs about him.
“Ross, it’s a glasshouse,” she said, though she made no move to stop him. “If anyone should come—”
“Dinnae fret, bonnie lass,” he murmured, drawing her towards him. “No one comes here, and no one but old Ben there can see us, and I reckon ye won’t mind him watching.”
Freddie laughed and shook her head. “It seems Ben is to be a constant companion,” she said, giving him a saucy look that made him grin like a fool.
“Aye,” he agreed, freeing himself from his kilt. “Though nae so constant as his namesake, I reckon.”
He closed his eyes and surrendered to bliss as she welcomed him inside, engulfed with heat and warmth and love and… everything he’d been missing.
“Freddie,” he murmured, wishing he had the words to explain everything she’d given him. “A ghrá mo chroí, mo mhuirnín dílis.”
“I love you too,” she said, the words said on a gasp as the pleasure rose between them, stealing their words and their breath.
“Yes,” he said, ragged and the sound torn from his heart. “Never stop.”
They returned to the castle before it was full dark, to discover the place a hive of activity. Mrs Murray had risen to the occasion with enthusiasm. They feasted until late in the night, with many, many toasts drunk to the bride, a few to the bridegroom, and a great many for their future happiness and a fruitful union.
Ross, a little the worse for wear since he’d brought out a bottle of whisky, looked up as Mrs Murray beckoned to him. He got up and went to her, curious why she was leading him out of earshot.
The Scent of Scandal (Rogues and Gentlemen Book 16) Page 23
