The Highlander's Princess Bride

by Vanessa Kelly

  Instead, it felt wonderful.

  Arnprior tucked her close and let out a long, weary sigh that wrenched her heart. She rested a hand on the back of his head, stroking his thick, soft hair as their breaths settled into one steady rhythm. Peace stole over her, the kind she’d not felt in a long time. All her tensions and fears slid away, allowing her to feel warm, safe, and cherished.

  She drifted into a dreamy state for a minute or two before realizing his breathing had changed. It was now slow and deep. His body had also relaxed to the point where he was slumped heavily on top of her.

  “My lord?” she murmured.

  No answer.

  “Lord Arnprior,” she said in a louder tone, nudging him in the shoulder.

  A soft snore was his only reply.

  She groaned and let her head fall back to the carpet. Perfect. Not only had he passed out on top of her, he was so heavy she would probably strain her back just trying to move him.

  As she was trying to deduce the best way to wriggle free, she heard an alarming series of rattles, then approaching footsteps. Her startled gaze flew up to meet the equally startled gazes of Angus, Royal, and Mrs. Taffy. All three stared down at her, their mouths gaping in almost identical ovals.

  “I see you found an extra key,” Victoria finally said in a weak voice.

  Royal recovered first. “And I see you’ve done quite a good job of calming Nick down,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Aye, that she has,” Angus said in a thoughtful tone.

  “This is not what it looks like,” Victoria protested.

  Taffy’s perusal traveled slowly over their tangled bodies. “I’d venture it’s exactly what it looks like, Miss Knight.”

  Victoria craned her head to look down at herself and had to repress a groan. Her skirts were hiked around her knees, exposing her garters, and her bodice was a disaster. The earl’s head rested comfortably on her breast, his mouth only a fraction of an inch from where her nipple was barely concealed by her chemise.

  “Would you like help getting up?” Royal asked politely. “Or would you prefer to spend the night on the floor with Nick.”

  She thunked her head back onto the floor. “I’d prefer you leave and pretend you never saw anything.”

  Angus grinned. “Sorry, lass, but there’s no unseeing this.”

  Victoria sighed. “Then you’d best just shoot me and get it over with.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  A bloody great headache awaited Nick on the other side of sleep. And was he lying on a block of wood? It was either that or his mattress urgently needed restuffing.

  He cracked open his eyelids. Above him was the plasterwork medallion of his library ceiling, not the canopy of his bed.

  “It’s about time ye returned to the land of the livin’,” barked a voice he had no trouble recognizing. “We were about to send for the surgeon.”

  Nick shot upright into a sitting position, then clutched his head as pain knifed through his skull. “Jesus.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t yell.”

  “He was practically whispering.” Royal said. “At least as much as Grandda can whisper.”

  “I can whisper,” Angus loudly protested. “I can be silent as the bloody grave, ye ken.”

  Nick opened his eyes to glare at them. “Would you both shut it? My head’s going to explode.”

  He couldn’t remember ever having felt this disgusting. He had any number of character flaws, but getting piss drunk wasn’t one of them.

  “Aye, yer stale drunk this morning, laddie,” Angus said in a sympathetic voice.

  The old man was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. Royal stood behind him, leaning a casual elbow on the back of the club chair.

  “Thank you for stating the obvious.” Nick tried to rub out the ache at the base of his neck. “And could one of you explain what I’m doing down here?”

  “You drank almost an entire decanter of whisky and passed out,” Royal said. “And since you’re too bloody heavy to move, we left you to sleep it off.”

  Nick tossed aside the blanket that someone had thoughtfully placed over his legs. “I do remember getting jug-bitten, which I will never do again, by the way. But how did I end up on the blasted floor?”

  Angus shrugged. “We dinna ken. Ye’ll have to ask the lassie.”

  A vague image started to coalesce in the back of Nick’s mind. “The lassie?”

  Royal nodded. “Miss Knight. She was the only person in the room when you, er, ended up on the floor.”

  “When ye both ended up on the floor,” Angus corrected.

  Nick braced his elbows on his bent knees and rested his throbbing head in his palms. Fractured memories of the previous evening started punching their way up through the fog, flooding his brain with vivid images—Victoria sitting on the footstool before him, Victoria sitting on his lap, and, finally, Victoria lying beneath him on the floor, with his cheek cushioned on the gentle swell of her breasts.

  Bloody. Damn. Hell.

  Most vivid of all, he remembered the glorious taste of her mouth as he took everything she’d sweetly and innocently offered. Even as wretched as he felt now, with wet wool for brains and a mouth like the inside of a cave, his body stirred at the memory.

  “Och, ye were like an old married couple snug in yer bed,” Angus said with an expansive wave. “It fair brought a tear to mine eye to see ye so content, lad. Like wrapt up in warm flannel, ye were.”

  Royal tried to smother a laugh at the stupid joke. Wrapt up in flannel was cant for blind drunk.

  “Christ,” Nick sighed. He flopped back to the floor and rubbed his aching temples. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt or frighten the poor girl.”

  “Oh, not a bit,” Royal said. “She seemed more than happy to offer you comfort in your time of need.”

  And he’d clearly been more than happy to receive it. It had all come back to him now. His wretchedly foul mood and how he’d tried to drown it in whisky, and then Victoria climbing through the damn window, doing her best to talk sense into him. Her gentle warmth had chased away the grim memories haunting him last night.

  He sat up and tossed aside the plaid blanket, hauling himself to his feet. His head swam for a few moments, but he refused to give in to the urge to find the nearest bucket and empty his stomach. He wanted to know exactly what happened last night, and he needed to think about Victoria and how to do right by her.

  Nick made his way over to the bellpull and yanked it. He desperately needed coffee. “You shouldn’t have let her come in here,” he growled as he stalked back to his desk.

  “Couldn’t stop her,” Royal said, taking the chair in front of Nick’s desk.

  “You couldn’t stop that wee slip of a girl from climbing in the bloody window?” Nick asked in disbelief.

  “We tried,” Angus said in a soulful tone. “But that lass was fair insistent.”

  “Cowards.”

  “Can you blame us?” Royal said.

  Nick snorted. “Yes.”

  The door opened and Andrew cautiously peeked in. “Ye rang, Laird?”

  “Tell Taffy to bring up a pot of coffee.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “And don’t slam the—” Nick winced when the footman, in his haste to escape, banged the door shut. It would appear he’d terrorized the entire household, with the exception of Victoria.

  “Ye’ll be feelin’ as queer as Dick’s hatband, I’m thinkin’,” Angus said.

  “Trenchantly put, as always,” Nick replied. “But that hardly matters. What matters is what happened in here, and how it will affect Miss Knight’s reputation. How did she seem about all”—he circled a hand—“this.”

  “She asked me to shoot her,” Royal said.

  “Good God,” Nick said.

  “Aye,” Angus said happily. “No other choice but to marry the puir lass. The sooner, the better.”

  Nick was reaching the same inevitable conclusion. Surprisingly, he felt quite sanguine about t
he notion. But for Angus to approve? “Why are you so bloody pleased? You don’t even like Victoria.”

  His grandfather shrugged. “She’s not bad for a Sassenach, and she’s a dab hand at managin’ the lads.”

  Nick narrowed his gaze. The old man had been pushing him to remarry for years. Now it looked like he was finally going to get his way.

  “I don’t think you have much choice,” Royal said. “You either have to marry the girl or send her quietly back to London and hope no one hears about last night’s events.”

  “What are the odds Sir Dominic or Alec won’t get wind of this little incident?” Nick asked. “If the girl’s reputation comes under any sort of question, those two will murder me.”

  They probably would anyway, unless he did the right thing and married her. There was, however, a large question yet unresolved.

  “You’re wondering if Miss Knight will agree to marry you, I’m guessing,” Royal said with his usual perception.

  “How could I not?” Nick asked.

  His brother waggled a hand. “I’d say it could go either way. After we managed to get her out from under you, she flew out of here like hellhounds were baying at her heels.”

  Nick had to wince at the description, though it instantly conjured up the enticing image of Victoria under him, naked in bed.

  “The lass made us promise not to say anything about what we saw,” Angus said. “I told her it would be verra hard to unsee that particular sight.”

  The door opened and Taffy marched in with the coffee.

  “And did you keep your mouths shut?” Nick asked.

  Taffy glanced at Angus and made a scoffing noise as she placed the tray on the corner of the big desk.

  “As if Grandda could keep his mouth shut about anything,” Royal said.

  Nick sighed as Taffy poured a small packet of headache powders into a glass of water. “So, what do the servants know?”

  “They ken the laird was locked away with the governess for quite some time,” she said tartly.

  “And that you were drunk,” Royal added in a helpful tone.

  Nick shot down the headache powders in one gulp, ignoring their bitter taste—and his brother’s amusement.

  “Sir, Miss Knight may be a wee bit rattled by last night’s events,” Taffy said as she handed him a cup of coffee. “But she’s no fool. She knows verra well what this means.”

  “And what needs to happen next,” Royal said.

  Nick took several gulps of the hot brew, waiting for the usual jolt to clear his head. While he was prepared to do the right thing, was Victoria prepared to accept him? She’d seemed more than happy to receive his kisses last night, though that might have been mostly motivated by pity.

  That was a remarkably unappealing conjecture.

  “It’s time, laddie,” Angus said. “Ye need to get on with yer life. Besides, yer the laird, and a laird needs a lady.”

  “Even if she’s a Sassenach?”

  “She won’t be once she marries ye. Besides, ye must admit she’s a lady to the tips of her wee toes.”

  “It would be grand to have a true lady around the house again,” Taffy said wistfully.

  Nick studied the faces of the three people who were his greatest supporters, even if they sometimes drove him mad. They were clearly united in purpose, an unusual event in his household.

  “I sense a conspiracy,” he said.

  “One that is surely in your best interest,” Royal said. “And Miss Knight’s.”

  “She might not agree with that.” Nick knew her history—at least some of it—and he had no wish to force her into an unpalatable relationship. But her reputation and her future were now at stake.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Royal said.

  Nick shoved back from his desk. “Where is she?”

  “In the schoolroom with Master Kade.” Taffy eyed him. “But ye’ll surely be wanting to have a change before speaking with her, sir.”

  “Later,” he said as he strode to the door.

  “Good luck,” Royal said.

  “Ye’ll need it, lookin’ like that,” Angus yelled after him.

  As Nick took the stairs two at a time, he considered taking their advice. But he couldn’t wait to make sure she was truly all right. Besides, she’d already seen him at his worst. At least he was now sober.

  He reached the second floor, where the schoolroom, nursery, and bedrooms for nursemaids and tutors were. He rarely came up here, since those rooms carried too many painful memories of his little boy. But someday, perhaps, they would once again be filled with the sound of children’s laughter.

  Pausing outside the schoolroom door, he ran a quick hand through his hair and straightened his waistcoat. He had no idea where his coat was but supposed it didn’t matter. As far as marriage proposals went, this one would be unconventional at best.

  He eased open the door and quietly entered the spacious, low-ceilinged room with its tall windows looking east. Sunlight streamed in, burnishing the dark paneled walls and polished floorboards with warmth. All was tidy and cheerful, with books lining the sets of shelves, two large globes on stands next to a chalkboard, and a small spinet near the windows. The cushions and blankets piled neatly in front of the hearth suggested a comfortable reading retreat in front of the crackling fire. It was Victoria’s addition, he suspected.

  Nick had spent hours in this room as a boy, and he’d never imagined it could be so welcoming.

  The reason for all that comfort and cheer sat with Kade at a large table in the center of the room. Dressed in a green, kerseymere gown buttoned at the throat and sleeves, Victoria looked remarkably prim for a woman who’d only last night melted into his kisses. Sunlight gilded her hair and made her skin glow like pearls. Seeing her again made Nick’s head clear and his heart lift.

  She and Kade had their heads bent over an atlas. As Nick strolled down the length of the room to their worktable, they glanced up to meet his gaze. Victoria’s eyes popped wide, and her cheeks flushed rosy pink.

  “Oh, ah, my lord, I thought you were the maid with breakfast.” She clambered up from her straight-backed chair without her usual grace. “I . . . I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

  “I’m not surprised, given my state last night,” he said with a reassuring smile.

  Kade wrinkled his nose. “You’re looking rather grim this morning, Nick. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine, lad. I’m sorry I was such a bear, yesterday. I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

  His brother scoffed. “No, although I was a wee bit worried you and Logan might kill each other.”

  Nick tapped him gently on the shoulder. “No fear of that, but we will not discuss Logan at the moment, if you please.”

  Kade nodded. “I’m sorry yesterday was so troubling for you. I hope we can talk about it at some point, though.”

  “We will. Soon.”

  Nick glanced at Victoria, who stood behind her chair, clasping her hands over her stomach. Her eyes were shadowed and her mouth was set in a tight, worried line. He had to repress the impulse to take her into his arms and kiss away her anxiety.

  “Kade, why don’t you go down and get some breakfast? I wish to speak to Miss Knight.”

  Her hand flew up, as if to ward him off. “The maid will be here soon with tea and biscuits, sir. And surely you’ll want to change, given what . . . what . . .” She winced and clamped her lips shut.

  Kade looked suspiciously at the two of them. “What’s going on, Nick?”

  He thought about it for a moment, and then decided to tell the truth. “I’m here to propose to Miss Knight.”

  Victoria made a choking noise.

  Kade gaped at him. “Propose marriage?”

  “Yes.”

  “Huh,” his brother said. Then he smiled. “Good for you, Nick. Miss Knight’s a wonderful person.”

  She stared at Kade, dumbstruck.

  “Indeed, she is,” Nick said. “But don�
�t say anything to your brothers just yet. Miss Knight and I have to discuss the particulars first.”

  “Wait,” she finally said. “Lord Arn—”

  He held up a hand. “A moment, please, Miss Knight. Off with you, scamp.”

  Kade headed for the door and gave Victoria a cheery wave. “See you later, Miss Knight.”

  Victoria managed a weak wave in reply, but Nick could see she was also working her way up to a thunderous scowl. She looked so adorably fierce that he was tempted to laugh. Common sense, however, dictated caution. Madam Governess had her own ideas about how the world should be ordered, and those ideas might not include him. For one thing, she might be appalled by the notion of spending most of her life in a drafty old castle in the Highlands.

  Janet had loathed it, after all, and she’d been born and raised in Scotland.

  But Victoria was not Janet. Where his wife had been dramatic and sentimental, Victoria was clear-eyed and sensible. She would never succumb to girlish notions of wedded bliss, or expect Nick to act dashing and romantic. They would have a satisfying partnership based on mutual esteem, affection, and a sensible view of family and duties.

  And we will have a great deal of splendid sex.

  “My lord, are you well?” She’d stopped scowling and now studied him with vague alarm.

  Imbecile. Letting his mind wander was no way to court a skittish lady. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  “You’re not going to be sick, are you?” She ran a quick, practiced eye over him, not looking much impressed.

  He probably should have taken the time to shave and change after all, but it was too late now. “No, I feel perfectly fine.”

  When her eyebrows shot up, he shrugged. “Very well. I do have a bit of a headache, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

  “I’m not surprised,” she muttered.

  “Miss Knight. Victoria—”

  “Won’t you sit down?” she firmly interrupted. “I could ring for the maid and see what’s taking so long with the tea.”