Caught by the Scot

by Karen Hawkins

  She stood, too, relief making her dizzy. “Now I wish I’d said something several days ago!”

  Laughing, he gave her a swift, brotherly hug. “Me, too. But this is going to be great fun—”

  “Bloody hell!” The words cut through the room like a brutal swing of a sword.

  Lance dropped his arms from Theodora’s shoulders and stepped away like a thief caught in the act. “Douglas! You startled us!”

  “Obviously.” Conner’s tone was ice-cold and deadly.

  “We were just having breakfast. Care to join us?” Lance resumed his seat at the table, although his color was high.

  Her heart sinking, Theodora was unable to meet Conner’s gaze. “It’s a lovely morning.”

  “Is it?” he snarled.

  She risked a peek and found his eyes blazing with fury.

  Although Conner was dressed much the same as Lance, he managed to look more masculine, more sensual, more dangerous, more everything. His blue coat stretched over his powerful arms and shoulders, while his breeches clung to his muscular thighs in a way that made her knees go weak.

  Her gaze locked on his sensual mouth, now pressed into a furious line.

  She collected herself and said, “You’re just in time for breakfast.” She took a seat at the table, then pulled the forgotten dish of eggs to her plate. “I must say, this inn has an amazing cook.” She smiled stiffly at Lance. “We should remember that, should we travel this way again.”

  He nodded. “So we should. Come, Douglas, the ham is exceptional.” Despite his bold words, she was disappointed when Lance picked up his newspaper and disappeared behind it.

  Conner fought the desire to rip the paper aside and punch the squire’s face. How could the fool—and Thea—expect him to act as if nothing unusual had happened after he’d seen Thea in that man’s bloody arms? How could he do anything after witnessing that?

  His chest had tightened until he felt he couldn’t breathe, and his head rang in the oddest way. But as they were not reacting, neither could he. They were engaged to be wed, and an embrace was perfectly normal.

  But it didn’t help him fight the fury that turned his vision red, and made his hands ache to throttle the squire, and it did nothing to cool the passion that burned through his veins at being so close to Thea.

  He knew he should leave until his blood had cooled, but he’d be damned if he left them alone again. Ever.

  Scowling, Conner sat down across from Thea.

  Ignoring him, she filled her plate, the scent of thyme eggs and bacon making Conner’s stomach growl to match his mood. She returned the serving spoon to the dish, and then poured herself some tea. The morning sun slanted over her creamy skin and light brown hair, lighting strands to gold and caramel. Her thick lashes crested her cheeks as she added a lump of sugar to her tea.

  She doesn’t look like a woman who’s just been kissed. After he’d kissed her, she’d been breathless, flushed with passion, and panting with desire. But she wasn’t the least bit breathless after Lance’s embrace—and though her color was high, her gaze was locked upon her tea. As if she were simply embarrassed.

  Some of Conner’s fury abated and he leaned back in his chair. Perhaps this is not a disaster after all.

  He couldn’t stop looking at her. God, but she was lovely. Every move she made was graceful, and though she was doing the most mundane of tasks—stirring her tea, taking a sip, blowing on the hot liquid to cool it—every gesture was fraught with sensuality. He found himself imagining her in his bed, naked except for her unbound hair, her lips pursed in just such a way, only instead of tea she was blowing on his—

  “I vow, but the Regent is a disgrace!” Lance said from behind the paper, rattling it in irritation.

  Startled, Thea looked up from her cup, and her gaze met Conner’s.

  It was as if the world around them stilled, and disappeared. Her eyes, a deep melty brown, her lips—damp from her tea—parted as her breath rushed across them.

  God, what he’d give to kiss that plump mouth. His body raged with fire, his cock so hard he wondered how it didn’t hit the bottom of the table.

  He could see she was affected by him, too. Yet she’d just kissed that buffoon.

  Or had she? All he’d witnessed was a hug, and not a very passionate one, now that he thought about it. Not yet, anyway. Conner frowned, and Thea dropped her gaze back to her teacup, a wistful expression crossing her flushed face.

  And then it hit him. He was responsible for what had happened. I’ve been placing doubts in her head about this marriage, and it’s sent her into Lance’s arms, looking for assurance.

  Conner could have kicked himself. He’d been trying to push them apart, and all he’d done was— He frowned. “Where’s your chaperone?”

  Lance lowered his paper. “I hope she’s still sleeping. It would be good for her, considering the shock her system took from the icy rain. It wouldn’t surprise me if she took an ague—”

  “Pardon me!” A voice from the door caused them all to turn toward a plump, yellow-haired maid ducking a curtsy.

  “Alice.” Thea looked relieved. “We will need more eggs now that Mr. Douglas has joined us.”

  The maid smiled at Conner, revealing a missing tooth. “Good morning, sir.”

  He nodded.

  It wasn’t encouraging, but she simpered nonetheless.

  “Alice?” Thea asked gently. “The eggs?”

  “What? Oh. Of course. But I came for a different reason. Mrs. Landry says the squire here asked about the turnips we served at dinner last night.” Alice cocked a disbelieving eye at Lance. “I told her she was suffering from deluges, but she swore you’d said it.”

  “I believe it’s delusions,” Lance said.

  “I knew it! I’ll tell her you said so.” Alice spun and began to tromp out of the room.

  “No, wait!” Lance stood, tossing the paper aside. “I did indeed ask her about the turnips, and she said she’d let me know when the farmer who’d supplied them returned.”

  “Gor’, I’d have never thought it. You like turnips that much, do you?”

  “I have a farm and they were excellent. I’d like to see if I can buy some.”

  “Oh! Well, he’s here now, he is. I’ll have him come see you.”

  “That’s quite all right; I will speak with him in the kitchen. I daresay his boots are muddy. I assume he brought some other items with him?”

  “He’s delivering potatoes today.”

  “I’d like to see those, as well.” Lance bowed to Thea. “Pardon me, if you will. I want to see if I can get some turnips for my own—our—farm.”

  “Of course,” she said.

  Conner watched with satisfaction as Lance left.

  The second the squire’s footsteps faded, Thea stood, dropping her napkin on the table. “I should go.”

  “Why?” Conner spooned eggs onto his plate and then picked up his fork. “In a rush to find another mon to kiss?”

  “You cannot be upset I kissed my own fiancé.”

  He could, and he was. It was as if acid had been poured on his soul, and he couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. “You’re taking great chances with that mon.”

  “Nonsense. I’m quite safe with him.”

  “You’re nae safe with any mon—nae alone.” Not even me. Especially not me.

  Her brows lifted, and she blew out her breath in disbelief. “I can’t believe you, of all people, are warning me about the dangers of being alone with a man!”

  She had a point. “Aye, ’tis strange. But I worry aboot you and this—” He bit off his words, worried they’d pour out like molten lava.

  “You’ve nothing to worry about when it comes to Lance. He’s a gentleman.”

  She sounded . . . disappointed.

  Had the kiss been unsatisfactory? Conner’s spirits rose a bit. Still, sometimes first kisses were awkward, but future ones— He frowned. He had to stop any future kisses. “Your chaperone should be here,” he said blu
ntly. “What guid is she if she’s sleeping while you’re being ravished over breakfast?”

  “For the last time, it was just a— Blast it, I don’t have to answer to you, Conner Douglas.” Thea’s eyes flashed fire as she whirled on her heel and swept toward the door.

  He threw his fork onto his plate, the sound making her steps quicken yet more. Like hell you’ll run from me! He leapt up from the table and was after her, catching her just as she grasped the doorknob.

  He slapped his hand on the door above her head and held it closed. “We’re nae done talking.”

  She spun to face him. “I have nothing to say to you.”

  She was so close, he could see the golden streaks in her deep brown eyes.

  “Thea, I’m worried aboot you—”

  “I’m not a child.”

  “But I—”

  “No. No. And no.”

  He opened his mouth.

  “No!”

  Dammit, I’m doing what I said I wouldn’t—challenging her until she’s forced into that man’s arms. Conner ground his teeth and then took a steadying breath. “I dinnae mean to anger you, lass.”

  She crossed her arms. “Just move. I wish to see how Jane is faring.”

  Conner scowled. He had no reason to keep her here, but he couldn’t make himself let her go.

  She plopped her hands on her hips. “Move!”

  “Not until you explain that embrace.”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “Everything aboot you is my business.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “No. Everything about me is Lance’s business. He is my fiancé, not you. I don’t answer to you, so it’s my concern and no one else’s.”

  “That’s— I’m nae— I should bundle you oop and take you back home, where you’ll be safe from your own foolishness!”

  “I’m not going home. I’m moving forward with my life—or I am once you move out of my way.”

  Conner didn’t budge.

  She stepped forward, stubborn and furious, her chest a mere hairsbreadth from his. “Move. Now.”

  He moved, his fury pushing him forward. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, smothering her protest with a kiss. He kissed her with every bit of the hurt he felt, every bit of the anger that simmered through him, every bit of the deep longing he felt every time he remembered that she’d chosen another man over him. I want her with every ounce of my soul.

  For a second, she stayed frozen. But when he deepened the kiss, she melted against him with a suddenness that sent his senses reeling. Her arms slipped about his neck and she pressed herself to him, moaning softly as she opened her mouth to him.

  The kiss deepened further, their breaths mingling, their bodies straining against one another. Her perfume filled his senses until he was drunk with it. The room disappeared, their anger burned away by the fury of passion. His hands slid up her back, and then down, cupping her perfect bottom, wanting her so badly he burned with it.

  Her hands tangled in his lapels to hold him closer as her tongue brushed his, sending a wild flame through him, driving him into a wave of lust so strong he thought he would drown.

  God, he wanted this woman. Desired her. Needed her. He lifted her off her feet and Thea shivered, her hands twining about his neck. Her full breasts were pressed to his chest, stirring—

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs, accompanied by a feminine cough.

  Jane.

  Thea broke the kiss, blinking as if she’d just come awake, her breath as ragged as his own. Her gaze locked with his.

  And he saw passion, regret, and a flash of deep sadness.

  The intensity of her feelings stole his thoughts and chilled his roaring passion like ice on a fire.

  He’d never meant to make her sad. Never.

  His heart ached, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “Thea, my love. We—”

  She pushed free, her eyes shiny with tears. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. Not again. I—I can’t have it.” She spoke quietly but with certainty, her voice husky.

  “There’s something powerful between us,” he protested.

  “Oh? Then what is it?” She waited, her gaze so direct that it burned.

  He raked a hand through his hair, his thoughts still muddled by passion. “We’re . . . attracted to one another.”

  “Attracted.” Her voice was dull, as if her feelings had been severed by his statement. “That’s all.”

  Damn, he didn’t know what was what, not after that kiss. All he knew was that she burned him to the soul. “Dammit, I wish to God I’d seen this before now. Seen you. Somehow I missed this passion. You were always there, right in front of me, but I didn’t recognize you.”

  “Why? What would you have done?”

  He rubbed his jaw, his mouth still warm from her kisses. He tried to think, but his gaze fell on her lips and all thought disappeared. “Hell, lass, I dinnae know.”

  She gave a pained laugh. “And that is why that kiss should have never happened. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to meet Jane.”

  “Thea, wait.” Conner took a step toward her, but he was too late.

  She’d already yanked open the door and whisked from the room, her skirts swirling as she disappeared.

  He was left with empty arms, his body still afire.

  Blast it to hell! Conner scowled, the coolness of Thea’s expression as she’d left sinking the small amount of hope he’d managed to find. He’d made things worse. He should never have kissed her. Every time they were alone, he found himself pulling her into his arms, which only made her more determined to avoid him.

  Bloody hell, I sailed my ship directly into the eye of a hurricane. He’d have to change course quickly, or there would be no recovering.

  So what the hell was he supposed to do now? Thea needed to spend time with the squire in order to see his unsuitability, but Conner would never again trust that man to be alone with her. Sadly, Jane wasn’t a fit chaperone. The girl could barely take care of herself.

  Out in the hallway he could hear Jane telling Thea of the restless night she’d faced and all of her new complaints, every tenth word or so accompanied by an annoying sniff.

  Conner couldn’t handle more people right now. Cursing to himself, he headed for the servants’ door, leaving the breakfast room empty.

  15

  Muttering to himself, Conner stalked down the dark hallway and into the kitchen.

  The innkeeper’s wife gasped on seeing him, while the yellow-haired maid eyed him as if he were a rasher of bacon and she a starving wolf.

  “Law!” Mrs. Landry dipped a curtsy. “Are you lost, perchance?”

  “Nae. I merely wished to go to the stables, and it seemed shorter to travel through here.”

  “It is shorter,” the apple-cheeked maid agreed, her lashes fluttering in an odd fashion.

  He wondered if she had something in her eye, but decided it would be rude to mention it.

  Mrs. Landry pointed to a large wooden door. “Go through that door and down the garden path, then to the left.”

  “I’ll take you, if you’d like,” the maid offered, smoothing her hands over her skirt in a suggestive way.

  “Alice!” Mrs. Landry hissed, her face red.

  “What? I can’t be kind to the gentleman? He doesn’t mind, do you, sir?”

  Conner wondered if the poor lass was having a fit of some type, the way her lashes quivered. “Thank you, but I’ll find my own way.” He strode to the door.

  The scent of dried leaves and winter dampness met Conner as he entered the garden, the gravel pathway crunching under his boots. As he turned the corner, he caught sight of Lance down the lane that curled around the back of the house, speaking earnestly to a rough-dressed farmer.

  Neither of them noticed Conner as he reached the end of the path and made his way to the stables. Inside, Ferguson and Spencer polished the trace links, arguing about the coming weather.

  “Cap’n!” Spencer tossed hi
s rag over the edge of a nearby bucket and wiped his hands on his breeches. “You’re oop early.”

  “So I am,” Conner bit out.

  The men exchanged glances and Ferguson hung the traces on a hook before saying in a cautious voice, “Did you have breakfast? Should I fetch you a bite from the kitchen?”

  “I’ve nae wish to eat. Nae now.” He scowled. “Our plan to rescue Miss Cumberbatch-Snowe has hit some shoals. This morning I found the squire making improper advances to her.”

  “That lout!” Ferguson lifted his fists. “I should give him a lesson in how to treat a lady.”

  “Miss Cumberbatch-Snowe must be furious,” Spencer added.

  Conner scowled, remembering how Thea had leaned into that damned idiot’s embrace, a smile on her face. His chest tightened until he couldn’t breathe.

  The silence grew.

  Spencer’s fists lowered. “That improper advance . . . it dinnae make her furious?”

  “Bloody hell, nae,” Conner snapped. “Which is why ’tis a problem.” He paced up and down the straw-covered floor, raking his hand through his hair. “I may have made an error in thinking that the squire and Miss Cumberbatch-Snowe should spend more time together. I’d hoped she would come to see it isn’t a guid match, but that has nae happened.” Scowling, he turned and tromped back the way he’d come. “My rigging is in a right knot over this.”

  “Women!” Ferguson blew out a sigh. “They’re hurricanes in the making, the lot of them. You cannae predict them, and when they come your way they’re bound to flounder you, if nae worse.”

  “Aye,” Conner said glumly.

  Spencer said, “What do you suggest, Cap’n? If the miss has taken a liking to the squire, it dinnae seem as if there’s aught as can be done.”

  “She has nae taken a liking to him.” Conner spat the words. “She likes him, aye, but she’s nae in love. She needs to get to know him better, but withoot the bloody kissing. She needs a better chaperone.”

  “Nae to be disrespecting Miss Simmons,” Ferguson said, “but she’s a wee bit young to be a chaperone.”

  “At her best, she’s but half a chaperone,” Conner agreed. “And when she’s indisposed or just late coming doon to breakfast, she’s nae a chaperone at all.”