by Sahara Kelly
“I’m sure I will, Ian. It’s your home. How could I not?” She poured reassurance into her words. Perhaps it was a tiny cottage, or a run-down old house. She had told nothing but the truth. She was looking forward to seeing it, whatever it was.
“Come on then.”
He turned their mounts and she realized they were now clopping their way over gravel. Looking up, she gasped aloud and had to grip the pommel, lest she fall off her horse.
A quarter of a mile or so ahead, atop a slight rise, was a magnificent mansion, turrets rising here and there, windows shining in the late day sun, and gardens rioting with late roses and flowers of such bright colors she couldn’t put a name to them.
They rode along an immaculate drive, and she stared at the fountain splashing in the center of the front lawn. There was a large staircase leading to the entrance and it opened as they reined in at the bottom of the steps.
Two servants ran to take the horses, and Ian came to assist Amelia down.
“This is it,” he said quietly as he let her find her feet and stare at the building. “Welcome to Kilmalochan Keep. My home.”
She turned to him, fighting to find words. “Who—who are you?”
He sighed. “I’m Ian McPherson. I’m a Bow Street Runner.” He paused and looked up at his home. “And I’m also the Laird of Kilmalochan.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ian watched Amelia with a combination of nerves and amusement. He had obviously caught her off guard, because her mouth had opened, but not a single word had emerged.
Under other circumstances, he would have chuckled at her stunned expression, but this moment might well define their future together. He couldn’t make light of it, it was too important.
She made an effort to collect herself, drawing in a deep breath as Barclay appeared to bid them welcome.
“Good evening, Sir, Madam. Won’t you come in? I believe there is still a little time before dinner and your rooms have been prepared.”
“Amelia, this is Barclay. He’s been here longer than I have.”
She nodded, an elegant acknowledgement. “Good evening. Thank you for the welcome, Barclay.”
“A pleasure to welcome you to Kilmalochan Keep, my Lady. I understand you have no maid with you, so we shall provide one during your stay.”
“Most thoughtful. And most appreciated.” Amelia smiled.
She had found her feet, realized Ian. The society lady had reasserted herself. He wasn’t sure if he was pleased or worried. He reserved judgement. “Come, let’s go and freshen up. I’m hungry.”
She remained silent and followed him up the stairs, saying nothing as they passed the variety of paintings, shields and other assorted decorations that generations of McPhersons had seen fit to hang on their walls.
Kilmalochan Keep had been around for quite a few centuries, but theirs was a family that liked a bit of comfort in their own home. So the massive stone walls had been softened inside, the windows replaced and the fireplaces heated much more efficiently these days.
It was still not unlike living in a castle, just without the drafts and the freezing cold stone floors.
Ian led her to his rooms, knowing that they would now be ready for him and his wife. Traditionally, when the young Laird wed, he brought his wife home to Kilmalochan. Then she could learn to manage the house from the current Lady, in this case his mother.
“I cannot change for dinner,” said Amelia, walking in behind him and looking around.
“No matter. We shall see to that in time.” He removed his jacket. “I believe you’ll find a dressing room through there.” He nodded at a door on the other side of the room. “We share beds here. It’s warmer.”
He tried a grin, but received a blank look in return. She opened the door, and shut it firmly behind her.
He sighed. He was going to have to work hard on getting her to come around. She would, he was pretty sure. Well, hopeful at least.
He washed and tidied himself, not changing his clothes since he preferred not to add to any embarrassment Amelia might feel.
With his father away, however, dinner was most likely to be informal, so he didn’t give the matter a second thought.
When he judged sufficient time had passed, he tapped lightly on the communicating door. It opened promptly and Amelia stared at him, her face still expressionless. “I’m ready.”
“You’re lovely.” He spoke the words from his heart, knowing she wouldn’t believe them. He would enjoy helping her learn that he always spoke the truth about things that mattered. And she also had to learn that she mattered.
He extended his arm and she placed her hand on it, elegant and controlled, ready to take on the world at the evening meal.
Having observed her at every opportunity, Ian knew nothing would be gained by challenging her at this time. He had to wait, judge the correct moment to begin his campaign to win her to his side.
It would be a battle but he was looking forward to it and his mind turned over various scenarios as he led her downstairs to the small salon where Barclay was holding the door.
“Dinner will be served momentarily, my Lord. Your mother is within.”
Ian nodded and led Amelia inside.
*~~*~~*
When the woman rose from her chair beside the fireplace, all became clear.
“Hallo again, Amelia.” Katherine smiled. “I hope you’ll forgive my deception, but I wanted to meet Ian’s wife under informal circumstances.” She paused. “It was wrong of me not to tell you who I was, but that would have meant betraying Ian’s identity. I believed it was up to him to tell you that.”
Amelia nodded. “That is logical, my Lady. I must apologize, however, for anything I said this morning that might have seemed untoward.”
She noticed the uncertain look that Katherine shot at her son. Good, she had them off guard.
“Well, let’s have some food. I’m sure you’re both hungry.” Katherine walked to the small table. “We’re dining in here, just the three of us. Ian’s father is on a hunting trip…he may have told you.”
Amelia allowed a servant to seat her. “He did mention it, yes.”
Ian seated himself. “Is all well, Mama?”
She smiled at him. “Yes indeed. And may I say how happy I am that you’re here. It’s been nearly a year I believe since our son was home.” She addressed that comment to Amelia. “So you can imagine we’re glad to see him.”
“Indeed.” Amelia addressed her meal and made some complimentary comment about the soup.
Thus the meal progressed, with the conversation superficial and her comments perfectly appropriate to the occasion.
She had dined at tables with a hundred and in small rooms like this with a more intimate gathering. To her, born and raised in Society, such evenings were quite normal. What wasn’t normal was the roiling mess that had previously been her brain.
Katherine was kind and friendly, and a little worried. Ian was calm, clearly loved his mother, and undisturbed by her lack of participation. She wondered what was going on in his mind, and if he was as uncertain as she.
Thankfully, the meal was short, since informality usually meant less than the twelve to fifteen courses sometimes offered at the most elevated of occasions.
Ian addressed Katherine at the end of the meal. “I refuse to withdraw, Mama, so don’t suggest it.”
“I wasn’t going to. But I would like tea. So if you want a brandy, ask Barclay to bring one in with the tea tray?”
Amelia swallowed. She would love a brandy herself, but it would be inappropriate to suggest it.
“Barclay, could you bring two brandies with the tea tray for her Ladyship?”
“Of course sir.”
Ian looked at Amelia. “I think one would do you good. You’ve done a lot of riding recently and probably need to ease those muscles.”
“Thank you. That was most thoughtful of you.” Damn you.
How could a woman stay angry at a man who knew one so well? She un
bent a little. “Tell me, my Lady. Ian says he is the Laird of Kilmalochan, and yet his father is hale and hearty. I’m not sure I understand…?”
Katherine nodded. “That puzzled me as well when I arrived as a bride many years ago. My father-in-law was still alive, so I understand the confusion.”
Ian nodded his thanks to Barclay, who was setting tea things next to Lady Katherine. There were two glasses of brandy on the table as well.
He took one and passed it to Amelia. “’T’is quite simple. My father is the Laird, the head of our house. But since running Kilmalochan is not a simple task, it was felt many years ago that the teaching of such a task would better be done if the next Laird could actually do some of the running, rather than hearing about it after his father’s passing.”
She sipped her drink, enjoying the smooth heat of the fine liquor as she considered Ian’s words.
“Ian spent ten years working alongside his father,” said Katherine, over her teacup. “He’ll be able to step right in when that sad time arrives.”
“Which will not be for many years, I’m sure,” Amelia commented.
“One can only hope,” sighed Katherine. “That’s not for us to know. But we can at least ensure that Kilmalochan, the sacred trust held by the McPhersons, will continue unabated.”
“That’s a lovely way of looking at it.” Amelia sipped again. “The notion that you hold the present safe…for the future.”
“I like that.” Ian rested his hand on Amelia’s shoulder. “You put words to the idea. We should find out what that is in Latin.” He grinned at his mother. “You’d like to embroider that in Latin for our household motto, wouldn’t you?”
The snort Katherine gave in return made Amelia want to laugh, but she maintained her demeanor.
“And the ruby, Ian. You found Amelia’s ruby, you said?” his mother inquired.
“I did.” Ian nodded. “It was offered on auction by a disreputable chap in Colblair. My visit to his house showed me not only some quite nice jewelry, but also an assortment of paintings and other fine art that I believe does not properly belong to this gentleman.”
“Really?” Amelia blinked at this news. “What does one do in that situation?”
“I did what I went to do. Secure your gem if he had it, and he did. I saw it.”
Katherine frowned. “You bid on a stolen necklace?”
“Aye,” answered Ian. “And I won, as I knew I would. The ruby should be here tomorrow, lass.” He leaned toward Amelia. “You’ll be glad to see it back, I’m sure.”
This was true, but Amelia knew she could never repay him for it. It would be a crushing debt.
As if he read her thoughts yet again, he touched her shoulder once more. “Dinna worry about it. We’ll sort it out.”
“But you’re not going to let them get away with this, are you?” His mother stared at him.
Amelia agreed. And at this moment, with a good meal and a large brandy settling nicely, she’d have been quite ready to take a pistol and shoot that man herself.
“No, they won’t get away with it, Mama, I can assure you.” Ian smiled. “I have to let this ruby auction business finish up, with no suspicions of anything other than a man who bought his wife a very pricey bauble. Then a wee bird will be on its way to Bow Street. I can safely say that there will be no more auctions north of the border, and quite a few members of London’s society will be happily reunited with their lost property.”
“That would be a very good thing, Ian.” Amelia commented. “But you didn’t learn who was behind the theft?”
“No.” He frowned. “And that still bothers me. I’m hoping that once the sale is concluded, one or two of the people I suspect might show some financial improvements. Flash around a bit more money than they should have. Those people are already being watched. I didn’t waste all my time in London after learning of your loss.” He grinned down at Amelia.
God, he was amazing when he smiled at her like that. And the brandy must have been stronger than she realized, or else she was very tired. Because she felt tears sting the back of her eyes at the thought of giving him up.
Which she knew she would have to do.
“I think it’s time we retired. It’s been a long day for all of us.” Katherine rose. “I hope you have everything you need, children. Amelia, I’ve asked a maid to lay out a few things for you tonight and tomorrow we’ll see about settling you in properly. But for tonight, it’s rest.”
She moved to Ian and hugged him, dropping a kiss on both cheeks. “It is very good to have you home, my son.”
Amelia rose as Katherine came to her side. “And I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to finally have a daughter. Ian has chosen well.” She kissed Amelia in turn. “As have you.” With a huge grin, she left the room trailing “Good night” behind her.
Amelia looked at Ian.
He held out his hand. “Time to talk, love. Let’s go to our room.”
Our room. Those words sent a shiver up her spine. But yes, they had to talk. Their futures were hanging in the balance at this moment and she didn’t know which way they would turn.
Or if she would ever hold his hand again after this night.
So she took it, warm and strong, and let him lead her from the room.
Chapter Sixteen
Ian was developing a strong awareness of what was going through Amelia’s mind, even though most of the time her face was impassive perfection. Right now he knew she was apprehensive, unsettled and unhappy about what lay ahead.
Which meant either she didn’t want to be his wife or she wanted to be his wife but had persuaded herself it was impossible.
He wondered why it all had to be so complicated for women. Then smiled inwardly, knowing he wouldn’t have them any other way.
She walked beside him in silence, her hand in his, her step steady and a match for his. He led her into their rooms and shut the door tightly.
“Now then. Let’s have it. Something has been worrying at your brain for the last few hours. Time to let it out.”
He sat down on the bed, shrugged out of his jacket, and waved her to the chair beside a small table.
She hesitated. “Are you sure you want to have this conversation?”
“We must, Amelia. If we’re to go on and find our way, we have to talk honestly.”
She sighed and sat. “Very well.” Raising her chin, she stared at him, her brilliant eyes steady. “I cannot be your wife.”
“Ah.” Ian kept his answer simple. “And why not?”
She frowned. “Do you need to ask that?”
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t.”
“But…” she seemed uncertain of how to continue. “I am not the right wife for the Laird of Kilmalochan. I’m not sure I’m the right wife for anybody, come to think of it.”
“I see. And what, in your opinion, constitutes the right wife?”
“Not I.”
“Is that correct?”
“Sorry. Not me.” She apologized.
“I wasn’t referring to your grammar, sweetheart.”
“Ah—oh, I see.”
Ian sighed. “Spit it out, woman, or we’ll be here a fortnight before you get to the damn point.”
Her chin snapped up again. “If you’d make yourself clear then perhaps things would go more quickly.”
He glared. “Right then. Any more dithering and you’ll find yourself over my knee.”
“You wouldn’t dare…”
And that was all it took. He was on her in the blink of an eye, sweeping her up from the chair, back over to the bed and depositing her over his lap before she had chance to do more than squawk his name.
He flipped up her skirts over her head, muffling her yelps and curses, and was presented with her magnificent bottom.
Full, creamy globes topped firm thighs, and her white stockings were gartered by a red ribbon just above her knees.
His cock hardened and his heart thundered, even as he lifted his arm and placed a solid sma
ck on those beautiful cheeks.
She jumped, yelled and struggled, the point of her outcries quite clear even if the words were indistinct.
“I warned you,” he said. Another slap brought a rosy glow to the soft skin—and he gave up fighting his desperate need.
He caressed her buttocks, soothing the sting of his palm and stroking over and around, loving the feel of them beneath his hand.
She had stilled, relaxing into his touch as he worshipped her backside. He let his fingers drift to her thighs, rubbing gently, stroking the skin he found there as well.
She moaned softly and wriggled, spreading her legs, an invitation he couldn’t resist. When he touched her sex, he found her wet, slick with her excitement. He was in pain from his.
“Ah, Amelia.” He pulled her skirts down and helped her stand. “Undress for me, love. I would lie with my wife.”
Her face was flushed and he could see the pulse at the base of her neck as it throbbed. But she reached for her buttons and obeyed him, slipping from her clothes and standing before him in her chemise.
He shed his shirt and breeches in record time, even managing to remove his own boots.
“That too,” he flicked his fingers at her thin garment. “I want to see you naked. To know you’re mine.”
Boldly she slid the ribbons from her shoulders and let the silk drop to the floor where it puddled around her feet. “Is this what you want, Ian? A woman who has used her body in the past with other men? Who isn’t a virgin and hasn’t been for far too long? I’m damaged goods, Ian. How can you possibly expect me to understand why you want me as your wife?”
She stepped nearer, her breasts just grazing his chest. She was tall enough that she didn’t have to look up very much to meet his gaze. “If you want to lie with me, fuck me, I’ll do that. I like that. Especially with you. But you don’t have to marry me to get your cock inside me, Ian. I’m not right for you and we both know it. But we can still enjoy each other…” Her hand found his cock and stroked it with firm certainty.
He bit down on the flare of anger that her words had elicited. Then he reached down and clasped her by the wrist, making her release his cock. He captured her other hand the same way.
