A Scot's Surrender: Scottish Historical Romance (A Laird to Love Book 3)

by Tammy Andresen

  Agnes had to breath several times before she could answer. “I believe that he did. He asked me to say several more…” She stopped, turning crimson. “Don’t tell Ewan yet. He’ll insist we marry, and I need to think about all of this.”

  Clarissa nodded. “It took me some time to decide that Ewan was the right man for me. Though now, I can’t imagine why I ever held back. But Keiran is a fine man, Agnes. There are some wounds that need time to heal, although I can’t think of a better woman to help him.”

  Agnes nodded, feeling more at peace. As she plumped Clarissa’s pillows and tucked the covers around her large belly, the door clicked opened.

  “Agnes, do ye think we can trade patients? Keiran is tired of me.” Ewan winked in her direction as he dropped to give his wife a kiss on the cheek.

  “I’m sure he isn’t,” Agnes said as she turned to collect her things. At the very least, she needed to give Ewan and Clarissa privacy. Ewan had sat next to his wife with his hands spread across her belly. His affection for her was so apparent.

  Agnes swallowed. She’d told Keiran that she wanted a man’s protection, that she needed a man to care for her. But deep in her heart, she knew it was more about affection. Up until the previous evening, Keiran had spent most of his time pushing her away, other than when he’d kissed her, of course.

  She wondered if it was wise to go to Keiran’s room now. Perhaps it would be best if they both spent some time deciding what was best for the future because she wanted a husband who would cherish her, not push her away.

  She quietly passed by his room on her way to hers, noting that the door was ajar as the doctor examined him.

  “Agnes,” Keiran called out to her.

  Should she pretend she didn’t hear? But she stopped and turned, entering into the room. “How is the patient?” she addressed the doctor, rather than Keiran.

  “As long as infection doesn’t set in, he’ll be fine.” The doctor gave her a kind smile. “How is Lady Dumfries?”

  “Doing very well,” Agnes replied. Her gaze flitted to Keiran’s and then away again. “Did you need anything, Laird McKenna?”

  “Aye.” He growled. “I need ye to sit with me.”

  The doctor gave her a wink. “He’s not wrong. The company of such a lovely lady is sure to speed his recovery. If ye see any signs of infection, send for me.” Then, putting his tools back in his case, he gave them a nod. “I am going to check on the lady of the house before I leave.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Agnes nodded before she perched herself on the chair next to Keiran’s bed. The doctor nodded as he left the room, careful to leave the door open.

  His gaze met hers in a defiant look before he patted the bed next to him. “Sit here, lass.”

  She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure that is a good idea. You need your rest—”

  “I need to be close to ye,” he returned as he extended his hand.

  With a sigh, she rose and crossed to close over the door then went back to the bed to resettle herself on the mattress. He immediately planted his hand on her hip, pulling her closer.

  Agnes felt her cheeks heating. “I shouldn’t have touched you last night. You needed quiet and rest.”

  “I needed ye,” he answered, sounding for all the world like he meant it. He didn’t look away nor did he let her go.

  But she shook her head. “No one saw anything, and you didn’t actually…” She searched for the appropriate word. How did one point out that their maidenhead was still intact? “There was no need to propose.”

  “Propose?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

  She suppressed a smile then. “I suppose you’re correct. You didn’t so much request my hand as inform me it was a necessary measure.” She swallowed. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what. “But it isn’t necessary. So, I release you from your duty.”

  “Duty?” he asked, his eyes hooded, making in hard for her to read them.

  “To me.” She made to stand, but he held her in place with his hand.

  She was surprised at the speed of which he hooked his arm underneath her and flipped her around so the was lying on the bed and he was on top of her. “Your arm!”

  “My arm is fine.” He looked down at her, hunger lighting his eyes. “Right now, what I care about is you.”

  “Well, I care about you too. You don’t want an infection to set in.” He relaxed at her words and he eased down so his weight was on top of hers, pressing against her in the most comfortable way.

  “Ye care about me, lass?” His lips touched hers and she melted. She twined her arms around his neck as he slanted her mouth open to plunder it with his tongue. When he lifted her head, she had to search her mind to remember what they were discussing.

  “Of course I do.” She breathed in his scent, the feel of him.

  Her dress was a simple one, as she was mostly caring for Clarissa and Keiran, and as he slid his hand slid underneath it, he skimmed it up her leg, running along her pantaloons. “We can talk about the future when I’m better if that will make ye happy, but I want ye back in my bed tonight.”

  “Keiran,” she managed to say before his lips descended again. He kissed her until she was near breathless, and it took every ounce of her energy to focus on her thoughts when he finally lifted his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. The more often we do this, the…”

  He found her center, and his fingers stroked her before settling on her nub. His light touch made her body coil with tension in the most delightful way. “You know you want to, lass.”

  “It’s just that—” But she couldn’t get any more words out as he picked up the tempo.

  “I’ll make ye feel so good.” He began kissing a trail across her jaw, angling toward her ear. When he sucked in the sensitive flesh, shivers crawled up and down her skin.

  “You are so naughty,” she breathed as her hips moved against him, encouraging him even as she tried to resist.

  “Oh, lass, I can show you things that will be so delightfully wicked. Would you like to know what my mouth would feel like against ye? Like ye did to me last night.”

  Agnes gripped his hair, those words making her ache inside as she near exploded. “Keiran.” She panted. “I’m trying to give you the freedom you wanted.”

  “What I want is—”

  But a knock at the door didn’t allow him to finish. “My lord,” the butler spoke through the door. “I was told Miss Faulkenberry might be with ye. A young lady form the village has called looking for her.”

  “Bloody bullocks,” Keiran gritted out as he slowly sat back up then reached out his hand to her.

  With a sigh, Agnes took Keiran’s outstretched fingers and pulled herself up. “I’ll be right down.”

  Standing, Keiran started to rise as well, but she gave him a small push. “You stay here. You’re resting so you can recover.”

  “I should go with ye. Who do you even know from the village? Why would anyone be calling for you?”

  “It’s likely the girl I bought the cradle from.” Agnes brushed her palm across his cheek. She couldn’t imagine why the girl would need to speak with her. It was odd at best.

  Kerian looked up at her. “I don’t like that, and we’re not done talking.”

  “Is that what we were doing? Talking?” She winked at him. “I’ll be back soon enough. Someone has to make sure you stay in bed.”

  His eyes darkened again. “Lass, ye can keep me in bed as long as ye want.”

  A grin on her face, she crossed to the door. “Rest.” And then she left, but her body ached at the loss of his touch as she made her way down the hall.

  She didn’t want a man who didn’t want her, but he was making it difficult to resist. What if he stopped wanting her the way he did now? Would he still protect her? Provide for her? Her father had left them with nothing. She couldn’t take that risk.

  Reaching the entryway, the butler directed her to the front sitting room. As Agnes entered, the gir
l she’d bought the cradle from sat wringing her hands in one of the wingback chairs by the fire. Christmastide was coming, and the gray weather made it feel as though winter was near upon them.

  “Hello?” Agnes called as she entered.

  The girl’s head snapped up and she shot from the chair, dropping into a courtesy. “Hello, mum.”

  “We didn’t formerly introduce ourselves the other day. I’m Agnes Faulkenberry.”

  The girl curtseyed again. “Olivia McGuire, mum.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” Agnes moved to the chair across from Olivia and took a seat. It crossed her mind again, that she had no idea why Olivia might be here. “How may I help you?”

  The girl twisted her hands again. “Do ye like the cradle?” the girl fussed with her simple skirt, her gaze cast down at its folds.

  “Very much.” Agnes gave her a smile.

  The girl nodded. “Would ye be needin’ anymore furniture?”

  Surprise rippled through Agnes. “Oh, I don’t think so. Do you have any other baby pieces?”

  “No, mum.” Olivia’s eyes pleaded with her.

  “I’m afraid I can’t buy any other pieces from you.” She truly would have bought anything, but she had no more pin money to spare.

  The girl’s shoulders hunched, a sigh escaping her lips. “That is too bad. I’ve a number of pieces to sell.”

  “I wish you luck,” Agnes replied. The girl was nervous, desperate even.

  “Thank ye fer seein’ me.” The girl began to rise, but Agnes stopped her.

  “May I ask about your family?” It was perhaps rude, but Agnes couldn’t contain her curiosity. Something told her this girl was in trouble.

  Olivia’s gaze rose to meet hers. All her pain and worry reflected back at Agnes. “Me da passed, and me brother and I are tryin’ to provide fer our baby sister.” Olivia began ringing her hands again. “My brother is a good hunter, but it hasn’t been enough. I’ve tried to take in some laundry…” The girl’s voice trailed off. “I should go. I’ve taken enough of yer time.”

  Olivia rose from her seat, but Agnes remained where she was. She had been fortunate to have an uncle who could take them in, provide for them. She tried to imagine what it would be like if she hadn’t. How desperate they might have been. “Olivia, I can come by in a few days to see if there are any other pieces I might need.”

  The girl gave her a glowing smile. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  Agnes rose too. “I’m not sure which day. It’s my cousin who is about to have her baby.”

  Olivia nodded. “Lady Dumfries.” She turned away, but then turned back to Agnes. “Is Laird McKenna all right? Does he fare well after his injury?”

  Agnes blinked. Word certainly did travel quickly. “He’ll be fine, provided infection doesn’t set in.”

  Olivia gave a final nod before she curtseyed and headed for the door.

  As Agnes started up the stairs, she puzzled over Olivia’s question. Had one of the servants been to town this morning? How had word spread so quickly about Keiran’s injury?

  But her wonderings were forgotten as Ewan sprinted toward her. “It’s started.” He gasped as he grabbed her hand pulling her down the hall. “The baby is coming.” Agnes lifted her skirt as she raced down the hall with him.

  The doctor was in the room, as was her mother and Aunt Rhona. Sitting on the bed next to Clarissa, she took her cousin’s hand.

  Clarissa gave her a wide-eyed, frightened look as she tightened her grip on Agnes’s fingers.

  Agnes pushed Clarissa’s hair back from her face. “It’s all right. Relax and take a breath.”

  “Agnes.” Clarissa panted as she spoke. “I’m afraid.”

  “I’ll be right here with you. Not to worry.”

  “These things usually take a while,” the doctor added from the foot of the bed. “No need to get worked up yet. You’ll just expend much-needed energy.”

  Agnes gave Clarissa an encouraging smile, hoping she would take the advice. To calm her, Agnes began to sing softly as the others worked around her, readying themselves for the delivery.

  Ewan sat on the other side of the bed and took Clarissa’s free hand. “I’ll be here too.” As the women looked at him, his jaw took a stubborn set. “I’m not leaving my wife, so don’t ask.”

  Everyone continued about their business, getting sheets and clothes, hot water, and swaddling blankets ready. Agnes hadn’t repainted the cradle yet, but she had gotten it all clean and the linens had been washed and pressed. She’d send Ewan to collect them if he seemed too restless.

  Hours passed, and she could see how exhausted Clarissa was becoming. Agnes had never aided in the birth of a baby before, so she wasn’t much use. She did, however, hold her cousin’s hand, sing to her, wipe her brow, and give her sips of water to help her through. Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, a baby girl entered the world.

  The cries of that infant were the most joyous sounds in all of Agnes’s life. Tears sprang to her eyes as Clarissa held her little girl in her arms.

  “Isn’t she so beautiful,” Clarissa said through her own shower of tears.

  “Absolutely perfect.” Ewan stroked the baby’s head.

  Agnes watched them with a smile as her mother and aunt cleaned up the room and quietly left with the linens. While she desperately wanted to hold that beautiful baby, she knew it could wait until morning. Right now, the new family needed some time to themselves.

  Slipping out behind her mother, she crept down the hall. She should go to bed. It had been a long day, but somehow, she was too excited to be tired. Saying goodnight to her mother, she circled back and found herself standing outside of Keiran’s door.

  Softly, she opened it, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep. Clicking the door closed, she turned the lock.

  “Ye want me all tae yerself, do ye?” Keiran called from the bed.

  With a smile, she crossed to the fire and began unbuttoning her dress. She didn’t understand why, but she needed to sleep in his arms tonight. To be close to him and the heat and comfort he would provide.

  She didn’t say a word as she slipped into the bed, his wrapped uninjured arm around her and pulled her close.

  “How is the baby?” he murmured against her forehead.

  “Lovely,” she replied, circling her arm about his waist.

  He gave her a small squeeze. “Clarissa?”

  “Good.” Agnes closed her eyes. “I’ll go check on them first thing in the morning.”

  “Get some rest, love. You’ve earned it.” Keiran held her close.

  Warm and safe in his arms, Agnes wasn’t sure what she’d expected when she’d first walked in. She tried not to read into him calling her love because she didn’t want to ruin what has happening right now. If there was a perfect moment to be had between them, this might have been it. And somehow she knew she wanted it this way forever.

  Chapter Ten

  Agnes fell asleep in Kieran’s arms within seconds. She’d worn herself out helping Clarissa today. He’d nearly given all of himself to the war he’d fought in India, and it had torn him to pieces. He’d honestly thought that he had nothing left to give in this world. But Agnes was changing him. The way she gave to others, it filled the world with goodness and love. It made everyone around her happier.

  He might not be able to do that for everyone the way she did, but he could do it for her. He could fill her back up with love and joy after she gave to those around her.

  He loved her. The realization came with such startling clarity that it made his breath catch. Being near her was to be bathed in light. What was more, he had learned that because he understood the darkness of the world, rather than imposing it upon her, it would be his job to protect her from it.

  Though, he didn’t know why that hadn’t occurred to him sooner. But he’d keep Agnes safe, protect her, love her as long as he had breath left.

  Knowing all this to be true, he fell asleep.

  The next m
orning when he woke, it was to the sound of the door clicking closed. The bed next to him was still warm, but Agnes was gone.

  She’d be back, but he wished she hadn’t left yet. He had things he wanted to tell her, so he gingerly rose from the bed and washed and dressed.

  Making his way down the hall, he headed for Ewan and Clarissa’s room. The door was ajar and Agnes sat in the sitting room, holding a bundle in her arms.

  His heart climbed into his throat, and he had to swallow a lump back down. “There ye are.”

  She gave him a glowing smile. “Here I am.”

  Then she lifted a tiny hand from the bundle. “I was just about to count her fingers and toes.”

  Keiran couldn’t help but smile back. “Why?”

  “Because they are so perfectly tiny,” she replied as though the answer were obvious.

  With a chuckle, he settled himself on the floor, next to her chair. Reaching his good hand up, he touched the baby’s tiny palm with the tip of his forefinger, and those miniature fingers wrapped about his digit.

  “I’ll love her forever,” he whispered, choking back emotion he hadn’t expected to feel.

  “Me too,” Agnes murmured.

  “Agnes,” he looked up at her then. “I’ll love ye forever too. As long as there is breath in my chest, I’ll keep ye heart and protect ye from the harms of the world. And after that, I’ll love ye from the grave, stand next tae ye in heaven.”

  She made a choking sound as a tear slipped down her cheek. He wished he could wipe it away, but he still couldn’t use his other arm.

  “Yes,” she whispered, speaking after several seconds had passed.

  “Yes, what?” he asked, perplexed by her response.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She slid to the floor then, carefully holding the baby. “I love you too, Keiran. I’ll love you, forever.”

  Connected by the baby between them, Keiran leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Agnes’s lips. “As soon as yer aunt and uncle arrive, we’ll be married.”

  Someone cleared his throat behind them.

  Keiran turned to see Ewan standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his expression unreadable. “Ye’ve forgotten to ask my permission.”