Scandal with a Sinful Scot

by Karyn Gerrard

  She turned to meet his gaze. “I adore it. You went to a good deal of trouble.”

  After lighting a candle, Garrett moved to the cabinet and opened it. Inside were various decanters, glasses, and covered dishes. “I wasn’t sure if you even drink spirits beyond wine and scotch, so I brought a few selections. Also water, biscuits, cheese, and fruit. Would you care for a drink? I have the Mackinnon single malt scotch, sherry, brandy.”

  “I find sherry cloyingly sweet. But I will have the Mackinnon single malt.”

  “A girl after my own heart,” he laughed. Then he grew serious. “Damn it all, Abbie, you’ve always had it.”

  This honest side of Garrett was a welcome development. Years ago, it had been obvious that he kept the majority of his emotions under tight rein. The sporadic moments she thought of him through the years, she’d chalked up his reticence to youth and immaturity. For it could not be that he didn’t love her. There was one truth that she had taken from their indiscretion: no matter how cruelly he’d denied it, the love between them was genuine.

  Abbie stepped closer. “You always had mine, Garrett. Full possession. I tried to offer it to another.”

  He clasped her upper arms, and she gazed into those beautiful hazel-green eyes. “And I’m bloody glad you were unable to do it. Selfish of me, but then I’ve always been selfish where you are concerned.”

  “Yet you pushed me away,” she murmured.

  “And you never told me you were pregnant with my child,” he admonished gently.

  “It will always be between us. Scars, as you said.”

  “We’ve apologized, cleared the air, but yes, Abbie love, the scars are permanent. Instead of picking at them, it is to our mutual benefit to embrace the fresh start you spoke of.”

  Abbie caressed his cheek, trailing her fingers across his rugged jawline. Heavy whiskers outlined the contours of his chin. He laughed. “I should have shaved before coming here.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Shall we have that drink?” he asked, giving her a wink.

  He wore a white shirt open halfway down his impressive chest, and a pair of tan breeches, and high boots. “No,” she said, her voice low. Abbie unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it apart. She sighed longingly at his muscular torso. “I have waited years for this. I’d rather we made love. Immediately.”

  He gathered her in his arms and kissed her. It turned desperate, eager, and wild. “Abbie, I confess I will not be able to take things slow. Not tonight. I need to be inside you now.”

  She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, then licked one of his nipples, causing an agonizing moan to escape his lips. “Slow can come later. Take me, Garrett. This very minute.”

  Clothes, hairpins, boots sailed through the air, not that she wore much, as she’d left off all her undergarments in anticipation of tonight. Once naked, they tumbled headlong onto the chaise, kissing, nipping, touching. As Garrett turned her slightly to lay kisses on her bare back, he froze. “Oh, Abbie.” The tips of his fingers followed the trail of criss-crossed scars spanning across her shoulder blades. In a low, dangerous voice, he said, “Who did this to you? Who would mar such perfection? Give me a name and I will see them suffer.”

  “My father,” she replied softly. “When I told him of my condition.”

  “Still living in Brighton is he? I’ll leave at once. He deserves to be horsewhipped,” Garrett barked.

  Abbie laid a hand on his arm, strangely pleased he would leap to her defense. “It is yet another reason my parents and I are estranged. He took his riding crop to me, sliced my dress—and my back—to ribbons. My mother stood by and watched. I decided then and there that I would reveal nothing about who the father was, and I would have nothing further to do with my pious and heartless parents. I accepted Elwyn’s marriage proposal more to escape them than anything else.”

  “God, Abbie. You’ve suffered this because of me and my selfish, reckless behavior. I will never forgive myself.” The anguish in his voice touched her heart. “No wonder you hated me. I deserve your censure. Your contempt.”

  She cradled his cheek. “Please, do not allow this to ruin our time together. We spoke the truth when we agreed about having scars. These ones have healed. If it is any consolation, Elwyn also threatened to horsewhip my father when he discovered the scarring. It ended their friendship.” Abbie smiled sadly. “It is why I readily accepted Elwyn’s suggestion that we delay consummation of our marriage. I was ashamed.”

  Garrett turned his head slightly to kiss her palm. “I respect and admire Elwyn the more you tell me of him. Damn your miserable father. And mother, for acting as willing accomplice.”

  “We should leave this in the past, where it belongs. Please, continue what you were doing,” she encouraged, giving him a sensual smile.

  Garrett gently and tenderly kissed her scars, causing moisture to collect on her lashes. He slid his lips to hers and kissed her deeply. Abbie returned it, the passion between them soaring. He halted and opened a small box on the table next to them. “When I journeyed to Sevenoaks the other day, I also paid a visit to the apothecary and purchased condoms. New from America. Made of rubber, if you can imagine.”

  “How forward-thinking you are. I was going to suggest withdrawal, but this is a better solution.” She gave him a teasing wink. “Shall I assist you?”

  Garrett rolled over flat on his back and handed her the envelope. “Sheath me, Abbie love.”

  A curious contraption, but Abbie managed to roll it on. Garrett then clasped her hips and brought her on top of him. “Ride me, my wild vixen,” he teased. Then he sobered, his expression smoldering. “Do not make me wait, I beg you,” he rasped.

  Abbie clasped him, rose above him, and positioned his shaft. She plunged down on top of him, which caused them both to cry out. Oh, how he filled and stretched her. She stayed perfectly still, savoring their joining, becoming used to a man being inside her again. Never believed it would ever be Garrett, except in her dreams.

  “Sweet Christ. If I could only live all my days like this,” Garrett moaned. “Inside you forever.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. Abbie understood exactly what he meant. It had been too long. Why had they denied themselves this bliss? No longer. Placing her hands flat on his chest, she started to move. Garrett clasped her hips, moving her back and forth as he captured her gaze. He looked splendid, his long, fire-in-the-hearth colored hair spread out on the pillow, his eyes burning with an intensity that took her breath away.

  The sensations were building at a rapid pace; it would not take her long. She leaned forward to give her swollen nub more direct stimulation. Garrett clasped her breast with his left hand, his thumb rubbing the erect nipple. She moaned with the pure joy of his touch.

  “Yes, love, come for me. Don’t close your eyes. I want you to look at me.” He raised his hips to meet her rocking motion and she gasped. As he commanded, Abbie met his gaze once again. Faster he pumped into her and she met his rapid pace. A sheen of perspiration already covered them both from their exertions.

  Then it happened. A roll of stinging pleasure rocked her senses. A joyous explosion. Crying his name as if it were a prayer, her release caused her to freeze in place, her back arching with ecstasy.

  “I’m close, keep moving,” Garrett growled.

  The room still spun about her, but she threw herself into his rhythm, this time she bounced up and down on his stiff prick and his thrusts went deeper, became wilder. “Ah!” He sat upright from the force of his climax, his body shuddering all around her. He gathered her in his arms, nuzzling her neck, groaning with each tremble and shake. “I love you, mo chridhe. Love. You.”

  “And I love you, my Scottish warrior.” Abbie could not stop the words from slipping out. Caution be damned, at least in this moment. He chuckled as she held him tighter. A teasing remark, yet it held truth. She wanted nothing more than for him
to fight for their love. Protect it with his last breath. Claim her as if there were no other woman on earth for him.

  Abbie exhaled. Oh, be my warrior, Garrett. Never hurt me again. Love me. But in the dark corner of her heart, doubt lingered. She couldn’t help it. Though the love was always there, hidden, sometimes forgotten, the trust would have to be earned anew on both their parts. Especially for her, for a nagging part of her still did not trust him fully, specifically where the curse was concerned. And that chilled Abbie to the bone.

  Chapter 13

  As he had revealed to Abbie the previous night, there were affairs through the years, brief sexual episodes with women of all shapes and ages. Nothing remotely serious; his emotions had not been engaged at all. The meaningless sex grew boring, and Garrett found he’d rather stay close to home than venture into London to The Crimson Club for a discreet erotic encounter.

  Regardless, it had been close to a year and a half since he’d had actual sex. This could explain the passionate climax he’d experienced moments ago. In truth, Abbie had caused his explosive reaction. As he’d revealed when she first returned to his life, no woman could compare. He and Abbie had shared a rare, sensual bond from the first moment they touched.

  Holding her close like this, skin against skin, all was right with the world. If only they could stay in the small, isolated sphere he’d built for them. They lay on the chaise, a sheet across their hips, a plate of cheese, fruit, and biscuits on their laps. Garrett lazily fed Abbie grapes, popping a couple in his mouth for good measure.

  They couldn’t remain here; real life beckoned. Besides, Garrett couldn’t leave Patriot out in the elements all night. The stallion was a thoroughbred, used to warm comfortable barns and paddocks, not standing outside with bitter January winds whipping about his flanks. “As much as I would love to linger, we must head to our respective residences. Especially before your absence is noticed.” He caressed her cheek with the tip of his finger. “There is no reason we cannot return here tomorrow night.”

  Abbie reached for a chocolate biscuit. “And every night thereafter? I must return to Standon at some point.”

  “Why?”

  She leaned up on her elbow and stared down at him as she nibbled on the biscuit. “I have a home, responsibilities. Megan has school and has missed too much time already.”

  Her words chilled his heart. Hell, he didn’t want her and his daughter to leave. “And what of a future, the one that you said you wished? With me? We do have a schoolmaster in the family. In fact, Riordan informed us, before returning to his position, he will be starting a progressive school here in Kent. He will put in place an education board of local members, similar to the one in Carrbury.”

  “I am pleased for your nephew, but it would be a year or more before it comes into existence. What will Megan do in the interim?” Abbie gathered the sheet about her lush body. “No, I must set a date for our departure. By the end of this month, or perhaps sooner. I will discuss it with Megan.”

  “That leaves barely more than two weeks.” Garrett frowned. He did not like this development at all.

  Abbie stood and gathered up her garments, then began dressing. “Don’t pout. I assume you wish us to stay in touch. You can always return with us for a short visit.” She gave him a warm smile. “Perhaps Aidan will be amenable to visitors by then.”

  Garrett pushed the tray of food off his lap and sat upright. “Of course I wish us to stay in touch. Regarding Aidan, according to Dr. Bevan, the family should stay well clear. Perhaps it will be difficult to comply. But the family agreed to wait until Aidan allows visitors.” He swung his legs around and reached for his trousers. “On the subject of us, there is still much to work out it seems.”

  Abbie cupped his cheek. “Fourteen years past, there was no one else to consider but our youthful, selfish selves. But don’t start to think that I do not wish us to be together. On one hand I yearn for it, but I also wish for us to remain cautious. It is the prudent thing to do.”

  Garrett stared at her incredulously. “You don’t trust me, not fully.”

  “The curse has ruled your actions for decades. I wish to be certain that you’ve truly placed it behind you before we move forward. That is all.” She caressed his cheek with the pad of her thumb. “Considering our past, and the way you hurt me…” He stiffened at her words. “You did hurt me, Garrett. Deeply. You abandoned me. As a result, I need time. Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I am asking you to understand.”

  He stood. Arguing with her would serve no purpose, for she was not completely wrong with regard to caution—or the curse. Or about him hurting her. Yet it stung. “I will try my best to understand. In light of this, I’d best return you to the Eatons.”

  They did not speak as he hurriedly dressed. Then he put out the fire and locked the cabinet. Garrett struggled with his emotions, with whether to allow them to rush free or keep them under tight control. This aspect of his personality simultaneously annoyed and amused Abbie. She’d told him so in the past.

  He cast a quick glance and her eyes smoldered. It was not as if she were tossing him aside—quite the opposite. No, he couldn’t blame her for wishing to take what was quickly developing between them at a slower pace. Abbie gave him a playful wink. How tempting it was to toss off his clothes, carry her to the chaise, and make love to her again. And again.

  Abbie turned and reached for her cloak and the spell was broken.

  Once they arrived at the rear entrance of the Eaton residence, he slipped off Patriot and helped her down.

  “Well, good night.” She gave him a brief smile.

  Abbie was about to head toward the door when he grasped the sides of her head, forcing her to look at him. “You’re mine, and if that sounds domineering and possessive, good, because where you are concerned, I am. I’ll be damned to a fiery hell before I let you leave me again for whatever reason.”

  Annoyance sparked in her dark brown eyes. “Let me? I am going home, I am not leaving you. Besides, you threw me away…. Never mind. We will not travel down that path once again. What time do you wish us to be ready for our excursion to Sevenoaks tomorrow?”

  He kissed her hard. At first she stubbornly resisted, but she soon softened, returning his kiss with equal passion. Garrett broke the kiss and marched away from her, then mounted Patriot. “I will call for you and Megan at one o’clock. And tomorrow night, I will be here at the stroke of midnight. Agreed?”

  Abbie gave him a sultry smile as she touched her well-kissed lips. “Agreed.”

  Taking the reins, he gave Patriot a touch of his flanks and he was off, galloping toward Wollstonecraft Hall. Tonight was not near enough, it barely took the edge off his arousal. Perhaps a brisk dash would cool his ardor.

  The extreme emotions tearing through him concerned him. He never wanted to love a woman like this. It was dangerous to love to distraction, to be obsessed. Yearning for every touch, smile, and kiss. Surely he could gain control of his emotions. Well, the maelstrom was exhilarating, at least. But did he wish to live the rest of his life in such turmoil?

  With Abbie by his side, in his arms, lying under him as he thrust in and out?

  God, yes. Forever.

  * * * *

  Sitting in the Rose Crown Tearoom, Garrett noticed they were attracting attention from the townsfolk. On the rare occasions he’d ventured to Sevenoaks, he hadn’t lingered in tearooms or engaged in conversation with the locals. He’d left that to his father and brother, the peers in the family.

  The owner of the tearoom waited on them personally, bringing a three-tiered cake stand stuffed with cream cakes, tarts, and scones. Megan’s eyes lit up at the bounty. His daughter had a sweet tooth, make no mistake.

  “May I say I’m heartily glad to see you in my humble tearoom,” the owner, Mr. Crook, gushed. “I would be obliged if you recommend us to the earl and viscount.”

  Good God. �
�What jams do you offer?” Garrett asked as he laid the linen napkin across his lap.

  “I have blackberry, strawberry, peach, apricot, a Seville orange marmalade…”

  “Excellent,” Garrett replied. “The marmalade and apricot jam. Ladies? Any preferences?”

  “Your selections are perfect,” Abbie smiled.

  Mr. Crook bowed. “Right away, sir.” He scurried off, leaving them mercifully alone.

  Abbie picked up the china teapot and filled their cups. “What an advantage being born into an aristocratic family. He couldn’t do enough for us.”

  “Believe me, the bowing and scraping becomes tedious very quickly. All it does is draw attention.” Garrett stared at the women at the next table. He scowled and they looked away, blushing and whispering behind their hands. He could well imagine what they were saying. No doubt wondering who Megan and Abbie were to him—although one glance at his daughter and conclusions could be drawn.

  Abbie chuckled. “Ignore them. Instead, let us enjoy the company and the food. Goodness, I hardly know where to begin. Megan?”

  “Mama, you have to ask? Cake, of course!”

  Garrett laughed as Abbie used the silver tongs to load her plate. “I believe I will begin with scones, if Mr. Crook would make haste with the jams.”

  The older man hurried to their table and served the condiments. “Anything else, sir?”

  “No, thank you. We have everything we need, and it is lovely.”

  Mr. Crook beamed in response, then moved to another table. Garrett placed three scones on his plate, slathering them with apricot jam and dollops of fresh cream.

  “The Wollstonecrafts are involved in progressive causes. Will you tell us which ones?” Megan asked as she placed a piece of strawberry cake on her plate.

  “Of course. Your grandfather is in the House of Lords, and your uncle, Julian, is a member of parliament, since his viscount title is courtesy only. Both are working toward factory reform and revising the current inadequate Factory Act by limiting the number of hours of work during the day, especially for women and children. They are also crafting revisions concerning improvement of the horrendous working conditions.” Garrett sipped his tea. “Riordan, your cousin, is involved in education reform. It is why he took the position of schoolmaster, to test his ideas. He found the profession enriching and wishes to build his own school here in Kent.”