Romancing the Scot (The Pennington Family)

by May McGoldrick

  He read her thoughts and stopped when he reached her. “Starting on the next case?”

  He stretched out his hand and she tried to show him the volume. But as he took it, his fingers held hers and a thrill raced up her arm. When he finally took the book, a torch had been lit inside her.

  “What do you say, Branson? Shall we add Miss Grace permanently to our law office?”

  “That would be the happiest day of my service, m’lord.”

  Hugh smiled, glancing back at his man. “Then I say we make it official.”

  She had no doubt that Branson had already been told of their secret. Grace sat as trays of supper were carried in for the travelers.

  “Do tell me how the proceedings went in court today.”

  “It couldn’t have gone better,” Branson replied, as the two men sat to eat.

  “Mr. Kinniburgh was sworn in to communicate with Mrs. Campbell,” Hugh told her. “Her testimony that Branson recorded was entered into the records, and the warden of the Brideswell gave a statement attesting to the veracity of it and added his own favorable impressions.”

  “His lordship ruled, just as we discussed, that the defendant wouldn’t be found ‘not guilty’ but rather ‘not proven’ if the case went to trial,” the clerk added, “and then dismissed the case.”

  Grace was so relieved. “What happens to Mrs. Campbell now?”

  “Kinniburgh told me he can teach her to communicate with a series of signs he uses with his students,” Hugh answered. “But it was clear she only wants to return to her children.”

  “Her other two children have been living in Argyll with a cousin,” Branson explained. “She was going there immediately.”

  Grace felt a knot forming in her chest as she imagined the reunion of mother and children after this long ordeal.

  “The court took the liberty of securing the services of Mr. Kinniburgh to accompany Mrs. Campbell to Argyll,” Hugh continued. “They’ll fetch her family, and he’ll bring her back to the Borders.”

  “To the Borders?” Grace asked, not believing she’d heard correctly.

  “I know it will be a challenge for Mrs. Truscott and her helpers at the tower house, but Mr. Kinniburgh assured me that the woman is capable of learning all she needs to communicate. And I doubt either Jo or Violet will hesitate to take her in.”

  She looked at Hugh, her heart swelling. When she’d thought she couldn’t love him more, he showed her another level of his compassion. He knew that life held even more difficulties for victims such as Mrs. Campbell once they were released from prison.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers. “And I . . . I’ll try to assist Jo and Violet. I’m fairly adept with languages. I can learn the signs from Mr. Kinniburgh and work with her and others.”

  His eyes glowed with affection as he focused on her face, and Grace realized what she’d done. For the first time, she’d spoken of her future at Baronsford.

  * * *

  The law clerk was heading off to Glasgow on important business tomorrow, and Hugh had a great deal to discuss with him tonight. Informing Branson that he’d return shortly, he escorted Grace to the stairway. The house was quiet now, and the light of the waning moon was shining down from the high windows.

  “You are the finest man alive.” She moved into his arms, tucking her head beneath his chin. “I love you.”

  Her words, her trusting embrace, knotted his throat. He held her. She’d said she would stay. “Whatever I am now, Grace, I promise to be an even better man in the future . . . because you will be here with me. I love you. You made me a happy man just now in accepting my proposal.”

  She hid her face for a moment in the crook of his neck.

  “And I need to hear it again. Say the words.”

  She bit her lip, the prettiest of blushes warming her cheeks, before she whispered, “God help me, but there is nothing in the world that can make me happier than the honor of being married to you.”

  “Then say yes.”

  “Yes.” She smiled, raising herself on her toes and pressing her lips softly against his.

  He didn’t know it before she came to Baronsford, but Hugh had been ailing for so long. And Grace was the cure. His blood pulsed. He wanted the wedding to take place tomorrow. He wanted her to be a part of him, beginning now.

  Her hands slipped around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair. Her mouth slanted beneath his, her lips pressing harder. In her innocent way, she was coaxing him to take more. Careful to let slip only a single thread of his control, he let his affection and his passion flow into the kiss. In the giving and taking of their mouths and tongues, in the delicate imitation of the sexual act, he felt himself soar.

  Her moan of pleasure was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Her body molded to his, softened, formed itself to him in ways he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of since he’d gone to her bedroom.

  He released another thread of restraint, allowing his hand to roam over her back, pressing her closer, sliding over her bottom, savoring the perfect fit of their bodies as he pulled her against him.

  Hugh tore his lips from her mouth and trailed kisses on her face, along the column of her throat. He swept her up in his arms and pressed his lips against the firm round flesh of her breasts.

  “When will you be done talking to Mr. Branson?” she whispered.

  Desire, potent and demanding, surged in his loins. He wanted her. Tonight, tomorrow, for the eternity.

  “An hour, maybe less.”

  “Come to my room then. I’ll be waiting.”

  * * *

  As Grace prowled anxiously in her room, each minute felt like an hour.

  For her entire adult life, she considered herself a brave woman. She prided herself for following her father on his military campaigns, living among the battlefields, hearing the bugle calls and the thunder of cavalry charges, standing stoically against the concussion of bombardments she could feel deep in her belly. When it came to society’s rules, if they interfered with her beliefs or separated her from what remained of her family, she cared nothing for them. Grace believed that she was bold and independent enough to live life on her own terms and take her chances.

  She searched for that woman now. But since the loss of her father in Antwerp, something had wrought a change in her. Perhaps it was the helplessness she’d felt seeing his lifeless eyes looking back at her. Perhaps it was those days and nights of unrelenting darkness. She could still stand against attackers on a country lane, but what had she been doing since Hugh had proposed to her? The “dauntless” Grace Ware had been cowering in fear.

  Deep down, Grace knew everything she wanted lay in learning to trust herself and Hugh. She needed to bring back the woman who had no fear of taking a chance, of having faith in herself and what she wanted. Hugh had fallen in love with that Grace Ware. It was time to reclaim herself.

  The soft knock on the door set Grace’s heart pounding. She moved quickly to the door and took a deep breath before opening it. He’d discarded his jacket and necktie. Almost involuntarily, she studied every inch of him, trying to stamp into her memory this moment, this man. He was hers and she was his. And she wanted him more than her next breath. She needed him more than life.

  “May I come in?”

  She was scorched by the power of his gaze. Extending her hand in invitation, their fingers entwined and he entered. As soon as the door closed behind them, he caught her up in his embrace, holding her, pressing every curve of her body against his until she could almost feel his heart beating in her own chest, feel his need spreading through every inch of her body, feel his desire become her own.

  “I cannot remember ever wanting anything in life as I want you.”

  “I’m yours,” she whispered fiercely, her passion climbing to the surface. She allowed it to soar. “Heart, soul, and body.”

  “If you want, we can wait for this night until we marry.”

  “And I say, we wait for nothing,” she re
sponded. “We’ve made our promises. And tonight, I need you.”

  Grace wanted to crush out all doubts. But to do that, she needed to feel Hugh’s strength and love. This was the road she must travel. This was the road she wanted to travel. From here, there was no turning back. And she embraced it with all the passion within her.

  As he kissed her mouth, her fingers moved timidly at first, slowly down from his chest to the front of his trousers. She felt the ridges of his hardness pronounced through the layers of clothes. A low groan of pleasure emitted from deep within him, and this was all the encouragement she needed.

  “I’ll not allow you to leave this room unless you have become as frantic with need as I was the last time you were here,” she threatened in jest. “But you must tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”

  “There’s nothing you can do to me that would be wrong.” He smiled, kissing her as he backed her across the room. He only paused when they reached the bed. “But you have to let me start. I’ve been imagining this for days.”

  She had no chance to protest as he turned her around and slowly started to unbutton her dress. His breath caressed her back, his lips kissed every inch of skin he exposed. A gasp escaped her when he lost patience and pushed the dress and chemise from her shoulders to her waist, trapping her arms in the sleeves. She burned as his hands slid around her and he took the weight of each breast in his palms. His thumbs grazed the hardening nipples.

  Hugh turned her and kissed her, a long sensuous kiss. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, over her collarbone and down to her breasts. Grace closed her eyes as he toyed with each nipple, his tongue and his teeth making every nerve in her body ache with need.

  But she was determined not to allow him to again lift her alone into a state of bliss. She now understood that mutual satisfaction was part of this game of lovemaking.

  “Not this time,” she whispered, shaking her arms free from the dress. Coaxing his mouth back to her lips, she seduced his mouth with her lips and tongue as she started undoing the buttons of his shirt. “I want to touch you. Feel you.”

  Her hands struggled with the buttons and he lifted the shirt over his head and cast it to the floor. Grace stared at his magnificent chest. Muscle rippled beneath taut skin, demanding to be touched. She traced the lines of white scars that mingled with the soft sprinkle of dark hair, and pressed her lips to them.

  He took a sharp breath when she bit on his nipple as he’d done to her.

  “You’re starting a dangerous game, Miss Grace.”

  He pushed her dress and undergarments down over her hips, where they pooled around her feet. She found herself standing before him, dressed only in stockings.

  Her breasts felt heavy, begging for the feel of his mouth. Eagerness made the blood pound in her veins. A boldness took over and she reached for his trousers, fumbling with the buttons and pushing her hand inside. In the next instant, she heard his swift intake of breath as her fingers encircled him.

  Desire filled her with new courage.

  “Grace,” he groaned as if in pain when her hand stroked the length of him. The difference in the soft texture of the skin and the hardness and length of his manhood was enthralling. His pulsing heat warmed her hands. He was on fire.

  He throbbed against her touch. She pushed her other hand into his open trousers and ran it over his buttocks. “I want to see you, to taste you, to get to know your body as you know mine.”

  “This has to wait.” His need resonated in the rasp of his voice.

  Grace shivered with anticipation when he lifted her by the waist and sat her on the edge of the bed. She peeled off her stockings and crawled back onto the bed, giving him room to join her as he finished undressing.

  In the soft candlelight, his body resembled the statue of a god. Naked, he was glorious. Hunger spread through her like wildfire as his eyes paid homage to her face, down along the curls that draped over one breast, past the curves of her belly to the triangle of hair at the junction of her legs. She laid back and moved restlessly against the soft sheet, wishing his weight upon her.

  Reaching down, Hugh took hold of her ankles, dragging her slowly toward him until her legs dangled over the edge.

  Whatever he was going to do to her, she was willing.

  “Lie back and watch.”

  Her breath hitched in her chest when he caressed the inside of her leg, moving ever higher. He opened her legs wide and her heart pounded fiercely as his fingers edged closer with each pass, sometimes brushing past, other times lingering long enough for her to moan in wonder. Grace thought she would lose her mind when he moved closer and his cock touched her sex and rubbed against her. But as she lifted her hips for him, he pulled back.

  “Take me,” she commanded gently. “By God, you take me now, or you will suffer this same fate the next time we make love.”

  She began to raise herself but, smiling, he met her halfway, taking her wrists and pushing them back, trapping them with one hand above her head. His mouth was rough as he took possession of hers, and Grace matched his passion.

  He broke off the kiss, and she hooked her legs around his thighs, trying to stop him from moving away. He kissed the hollow of her throat, and Grace’s body arched against him as his mouth suckled a hardened nipple.

  When his lips moved down the soft curves of her belly, Grace held her breath. He pushed her legs over his shoulders and his mouth found her sex. The caress of his tongue on her flesh made her back arch. She wanted more. Her moans of pleasure made him only increase the tempo of his sweet attack.

  Grace could not take enough air into her lungs, but she was beyond caring as the blood roared wildly in her head. Looking through a gauzy haze that clouded her vision, she rode the waves of release rushing through her.

  It was some time after when she felt Hugh’s weight upon her.

  “Will you take me now?”

  He entered her in one slow stroke. Grace gasped, digging her fingernails into his shoulders, shuddering at the sudden discomfort. Hugh was buried deep within her but he waited, his entire body straining for control. She clung to him, again beginning to breathe.

  “Hugh,” she whispered, kissing his neck and his shoulder, her body centering again on the pleasure of where they were joined.

  Her hips moved ever so slightly, pulsing to a beat that she seemed to know from instinct. The dance of life. She arched her back and drew him in more.

  Like two clay forms, they molded together, his arms tightly around her, and a new feeling washed through her. It was the feeling of being cherished, valued, loved as a woman. When Hugh began to move, she went with him, the pulsing rhythms they each felt rising undeniably within them.

  She felt the climax come again, blinding her with its power, and she felt him erupt. And then two souls took flight as two bodies whirled in an aerobatic dance, soaring heavenward in an eternal love gyre. Curling, bending, bursting forth into a crystalline sphere. Far above. Distant. Illuminated by love.

  Chapter 28

  Leaving the carriage barn, Hugh rolled down his sleeves and donned his jacket. Darby had been busy preparing the balloon rigging yesterday afternoon, in spite of the objections of Grace and his sister. They were nearly ready to fly. The man had already proven his worth a hundred times over. Hugh didn’t want to think about how everything would be different now if the blacksmith hadn’t been on that lane.

  Before starting back to the house, he paused to appreciate the hills. The rolling fields of Baronsford spread out like a great tapestry before the eye.

  Hugh had been raised here. He and his siblings had run in the deer park, fished in the lake, played fox-and-seek in the walled gardens. They’d learned to swim in the loch, ride in the fields, hunt and shoot in the marshes. Miles of footpaths, weaving in and out along the bluffs and low hills overlooking the River Tweed provided a heaven of discovery for any child. This had been a happy place to grow up.

  As he looked out at it now, his mind turned to his own son, Cameron.
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  While serving as a cavalry officer, Hugh had been filled with thoughts of duty and ambitions of glory. He’d never taken even a moment to think of the meaning of fatherhood until his son was gone. Unlike his own father, who’d been everything to his children—teacher, counselor, judge and jury, and protector—Hugh somehow missed the responsibility of what it took to be a parent until it was too late. And then he had mourned, wishing he could page back through the book of time. But in the end, the bitter past remained in the past, and a blank future was all he was left with.

  Until now.

  Hugh looked up the hill at Baronsford. A curtain danced softly out the window of Grace’s bedroom. He recalled how he’d left her this morning at dawn, her blue eyes watching him lovingly, her hand reaching out to him until he went to her and kissed her lips. During the night, each time they’d joined together, they’d loved recklessly, both giving their all, until they lay in the sheets, watching the sky brighten with the coming day. Sometime in the night, he recalled wishing that perhaps she’d end up carrying their child.

  Hugh was older now, wiser than the young man of a decade ago. He recognized that Grace was the single thing that made him whole. And if it be a child that they created together or one that they adopted—as Jo had come to be his sister—he now hoped for a second chance at fatherhood.

  This morning, his father had sent a rider ahead from the inn to inform them of their arrival, and the shouts relayed across the fields now stirred him from his reveries.

  By the time he reached the front courtyard, the servants were streaming out of the house and forming their lines. Truscott and Violet had also just arrived. Hugh watched in amusement as Jo came out, holding firmly to Grace’s arm, as if making certain that she wouldn’t run away.

  Grace had decided on a blue dress that matched the color of her magical eyes. She saw him and blushed, and he was swept up with the urgency of wanting to go to her and kiss her on the lips, regardless of their audience.