London, Julia - The Perfect Stranger

by Radha

Mind ye doona let the spittle drip onto that borrowed shirt, Thomas said as he walked past him on his way, presumably, to inspect the fence. Arthur sliced a quick and impatient gaze across the mans back, dropped his cutting tool, and moved forward to greet Kerry.

  She graced him with a beatific smile. I should have known, she said as he reached to relieve her of the pail she carried. Thomas would put the king himself to work. She stopped, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she gazed up at him, eyes dancing with mirth.

  I am quite convinced he may succeed in seeing me dead by days end.

  Somewhere behind him, Thomas snorted at that. Kerrys rich laughter drifted across the tall grass. Aye, hes a bit hard around the edges, but hes a good heart.

  Frankly, Arthur would require more evidence of that before hed be convinced, but he wisely chose not to argue the point and glanced at the pail. What have you got here?

  Cheese and eggs, some bread, and from May, a bit of shortbread. She smiled, winked coyly. It seems our May has taken quite a fancy to you.

  Has she? I rather suspected the woman had uncommonly good taste.

  Kerry laughed again, lips stretching across even teeth. Through no conscious thought of his own, Arthur impulsively reached for her, slipping his hand around her wrist and squeezing fondly. I love to hear you laugh, he said softly. It is music to me.

  Her smile faded slightly; she opened her lips to speak, but whatever she might have said was forever lost to Thomass intrusion. Well then, yed best eat, he said sharply, and took the pail from Arthur. Well take a moment, no longer. More than a wee bit of work to be done here, he informed them both, and stalked away with the pail.

  He doesna like it when I interfere with the work, Kerry whispered with a wry smile, and then to Thomas, she called, Youll bring the pail, will you not, Thomas?

  Och, aye, aye, he said through a mouthful of biscuit.

  She glanced at Arthur from the corner of her eye, still smiling. I should go now.

  Stay. Perhaps she read his mind; she didnt move immediately. Her gaze seemed to lock with his and for a moment, Arthur believed she could see deep inside him, to the rather warm, lustful thoughts that were racing through him. But before he could look away, Kerrys gaze dipped. Her cheeks pinkened; she giggled softly. Arthur followed her gaze, realized he still held her wrist and reluctantly let go, his fingers wistfully brushing her hand.

  Still smiling, she stole one last look at Thomas and stepped away. Youd best hurry before he eats your share. Arthur nodded; Kerry began to walk backward, her steps reluctant, her smile terribly alluring. He couldnt take his eyes from her, kept watching her, feeling his smile broaden when she at last turned and stole one last look at him before she moved into the meadow.

  He stood there until she was halfway across, and only then did he turn around. Thomas had apparently finished his luncheon and was inspecting the work Arthur had done, slowly shaking his head. Devil take him. Famished, Arthur walked to where he had left the pail to have a look. One egg, a half-eaten biscuit, and a small block of goat cheese were all that remained. He jerked his gaze up to where Thomas was standing.

  He could have sworn the old dog was laughing, After a thorough critique of Arthurs technique naturallyThomas left him again, returning for him as the sun was beginning its descent into the west. Arthur painfully gathered up his tools, quite certain his legs would never carry him across the meadow, much less up the rutted path, but just as certain that Thomas McKinnon would never know how he ached. Somehow, he managed to get the tools on his back. Somehow, he managed to flash Thomas a grin that suggested he could continue his work for several more hours, and somehow, he was able to start out with what he hoped was a jaunty pace.

  As they walked, Thomas eyed him suspiciously. Arthur supposed he was hoping he would collapse at any moment, and honestly, he was waiting for the very same event. In a very vain attempt to cover his discomfort, he sought to distract Thomas with conversation and cheerfully remarked, Looks to be fertile land youve got here. You must support quite a lot of cattle on it.

  Thomas astounded Arthur by actually laughing at that. This land wouldna support a bean, he said, and chuckled again. The beeves are sickly and the barley crop good only one in five years. Aye, Fraser McKinnon was a fool to have bought more beeves, he wasthe land canna support more than sheep.

  Fraser the name caused Arthur to misstep. It was the same name of the man from whom Phillip had bought land, then joined in buying livestock. No, it could not be Fraser was the mans surnamenot McKinnon. Still Fraser McKinnon? he asked.

  Aye. Kerrys late husband. Dead almost a year.

  It was a ridiculous assumption, an inconceivable notion that it could be the same man. Besides, his Fraser was alive and well and owing quite a lot of money. If the land doesnt support cattle, then why do you raise them? he asked, forcing the ludicrous thought from his mind.

  Thomas glanced impatiently at Arthur as if he was being purposefully obtuse. The wee bit of Clan McKinnon land in this glen belonged to my cousin Fraser. It was he who bought the beevesbeeves so sickly we lost almost an entire herd to fever. What few were left have not produced til now. If the market holds, well sell the beeves if they birth and take as many Blackface in trade as we can. Well have to make do til then.

  The condition of the Scottish livestock market was not something Arthur knew a whit about, with the single exception of knowing that sheepherding had overtaken most other agricultural pursuits. This he knew because some of the Christian Brothers clients had invested heavily in the future sheep markets.

  They walked on in silence.

  Yet something Thomas had said nagged at the back of Arthurs mind. If his Fraser McKinnon had lost a herd, it would explain why payments hadnt been made on the note. And if one assumed it took two or three years to rebuild the stock, then one might assume that payments were not made for several years. But still, the coincidence was too muchhow was it possible that he should stumble upon Phillips land in such a bizarre manner? No, it wasnt possible.

  It simply couldnt be possible.

  Thomas made sure Arthur put the stone-cutting instruments away in their proper place before showing him a pump where he could wash. Only then was he allowed into the white house, as he had begun to think of it, where the mouth-watering scent of freshly baked bread greeted him. His stomach was suddenly screaming with hunger; he wearily made his way to the kitchen, smiled when May beamed at him, and shrugged when a clearly irritated Big Angus growled.

  May motioned him onto the wooden bench at the table. Thought yed never come in, she said cheerfully. Kerry went on to see about Filbert McKinnon and his toothache, but weve a wee bit of cullen skink if ye please.

  He had not the vaguest idea of what cullen skink could possibly be, but responded enthusiastically, I would like it very much, and managed to refrain from snatching the steaming bowl clean from Mays hands.

  After he devouredin an appallingly very few minuteswhat turned out to be an excellent fish soup, he could scarcely keep his eyes open, but his pride demanded he accept the pipe Big Angus handed him. He drew the smoke into his lungs, very nearly turned green, and immediately presumed he had the distinct pleasure of inhaling peat. Fine blend, he said, coughing.

  Thomas and Angus exchanged a smile before continuing their conversation. Arthur quickly lost track; their speech was liberally sprinkled with Gaelic phrases and words that were foreign to him. As best he could tell, the two men were worried about the market value of the cattle they owned. He listened to Thomass droning voice, his eyelids growing heavier with each new Gaelic phrase that filtered into his consciousness, wondering when Kerry might return. The last thing he knew, Big Angus was speaking of some poor chap who had been pushed from his land by sheepherders.

  He was startled by the tapping of a finger on his shoulder. Bleary-eyed, Arthur jerked his head up. Of course it was Thomas, sporting what could only be termed a twisted grin. Best to bed with ye then, laddie. Weve more than our fair share of work on the morr
ow.

  Arthur pushed himself into a sitting position, grimacing with the fire the movement caused through what seemed like all of his muscles. I suppose we shall begin again at a suitably unreasonable hour.

  Big Angus chuckled; Thomas leaned back with a grin. Aye, well have an early start of it.

  Splendid, Arthur drawled, and by some miracle, his legs actually supported his weight enough that he could move away from the table. With each step, his jaw clenched tightermore, he knew, from the pain caused by the chuckling behind him than any ache in his limbs.

  He shuffled into the narrow corridor, paused to rub his back, at which point he noticed a thin shaft of light spilling into the hallway from the room he had been given.

  Kerry.

  She was still in his thoughts, playing at the corners of his mind. He moved stiffly toward the open door, where he eased his shoulder against the frame. His full weight sagged against it; with the last ounce of strength he had, he folded his arms and concentrated on the delectable sight of Kerrys bum.

  That was because she was down on all fours, her round bum in the air, her head under the bed in which he had slept the night before. As he watched, she wiggled out from underneath it, a small tin box in her hands. Sitting back on her heels, she opened the box and extracted what looked to be a stack of letters. As she unfolded the first one, she glanced furtively at the door.

  Her shriek was covered only by the sound of the tin box scudding across the floor. God in heaven, you startled me, she gasped, thumping a fist against her breast.

  My sincerest apology. I did not realize you were he motioned lazily toward the bed, here.

  Her face colored instantly. Oh. Aye, she muttered, and quickly moved to gather the letters she had scattered across the pine-plank floor.

  I can return later if youd like.

  Oh no! she practically shouted, and quickly stuffed the letters into the tin box before scrambling to her feet. She held the box closely to her side as she made an attempt to brush the dirty smudges from her knees. I, um forgot that I had some things in this room, she said sheepishly, now brushing her gown with a vengeance.

  Of course. It is your house after all.

  Aye. She glanced nervously about the room before switching the tin box to the crook of her other arm and smiling brightly at him. Well then. Have you eaten? May made a batch of

  Cullen skink. Yes, I had some.

  Oh. Her gaze dipped to her feet for a moment. Your clothes. Weve laundered them, she said, nodding toward a corner.

  Arthur shifted his gaze to see his clothes, laundered and pressed. Oddly enough, the sight of the waistcoat made him shudder. He actually preferred the freedom the borrowed linen shirt and trousers afforded him. Thank you.

  Mmm, she said, peering up at him through thick lashes. Well. I suppose youd like to sleep.

  Sleep. He had wanted to yes, but gazing at her now, the thick black braid draped over one shoulder, sleep was the farthest thing from his mind. It was amazing to him that a woman could be so appealing in a bland shade of gray, her hair unadorned, her lovely face without cosmetic enhancement. Oh, but Kerry McKinnon was appealing, terribly so, and in more ways than he cared to admit.

  Regardless of the fact that she was a woman as far removed from his world as anyone could possibly be.

  It was, unfortunately, almost laughable that he had somehow managed to end up in this remote little glen in Scotland, charmed by this woman a woman who now cocked her head to one side and regarded him curiously.

  Arthur managed to shove away from the door. Yes, I should sleep while I can. McKinnon has a peculiar notion about what time a man should rise around here.

  That brought a soft smile to Kerrys lips and a glimmer of amusement to her eye. He willna harm you, not really.

  Seeing as how he could scarcely move a limb, Arthur considered that open to debate.

  Ill leave you, then. Sweet dreams, she murmured, and started toward the door. As she moved to pass him, he caught a scent of lavender, and impetuously, instinctively, his arm shot out, catching her in the abdomen before she could pass and leaning into her before she could step away, breathing in her scent. I would sleep better with the memory of your lips on mine.

  Her fair cheeks flushed instantly; her smile deepened as she dropped her gaze to his arm around her midriff. It is not wise.

  But Id like it all the same, Kerry McKinnon, and I promise, so will you.

  She laughed. You are shameless.

  Oh, he was shameless all rightshe had no idea just how shameless. He pulled her into his side, his mouth on her hair. Completely and irrevocably shameless, he muttered, and gently pushed her backward, out of the open doorway, so that she was standing directly in front of him.

  Her arresting blue eyes were smiling up at him now, and Arthur lowered his head to hers, barely touching her lips with his, skimming the plump surface, purposefully tantalizing himself. With his hand, he gently touched her slender neck beside the thick rope of hair hanging over her shoulder, and moved his lips across hers. She sighed softly; he felt her breath in his mouth, her hand fall delicately to his waist.

  He slipped one arm around her back, pulled her closer to him so that he could feel the length of her supple body against his, the swell of her breast in his chest, the slight curve of her stomach against his groin. Kerry sighed again, tilted her head backward, and Arthur deepened the kiss, devouring her like a French delicacy, tasting the valleys of her mouth. Her body arched into him, moved against him, pushed him once more past the point of a gentlemans reason.

  He struggled to stay on the surface of that kiss, fighting the drag of desire that threatened to pull him under in a vortex and very gently, very reluctantly, broke away. Kerry remained pressed against him, her eyes closed, her lips, slightly pursed, wet and lush with the remnant of his kiss, until she, too, slowly opened her eyes.

  They stood for a long moment, just looking at one another, his arm securely around her. He brushed a wisp of hair from her temple, touched the contour of her cheek with one finger. There was no need for words; the desire flowing between them was well understood. And Arthur believed they could have stood there all night like that, simply gazing at one another. But with nothing more than a softly seductive smile, Kerry silently slipped from his embrace and into the corridor, still clutching the tin box, one hand smoothing the side of her hair as she moved away from him, walking, Arthur noted, a little crooked.

  Exhaling a long breath, he turned into the room and looked at the bed.

  He wished for all the world that morning would go ahead and come, as there would be no sleep for him tonight.

  Not after that kiss.

  Chapter Ten

  The men were already gone by the time Kerry roused herself the next morning from a sleep made fitful by dreamsrather erotic dreamsof Arthur Christian.

  Dreams that awakened a living, breathing beast within her that craved his touch, made her feel pleasingly faint when she recalled the feel of his hands and his lips on her skin, and made her imagine the many different ways and places those hands could touch her again.

  Such thoughts were intensely distracting, and Kerry spent the morning weeding the floundering little kitchen garden so that she would not have to endure Mays questioning looks, tackling a thick tangle of vines that could hang a grown man and plants of such strange appearance that she was almost afraid to touch them. When had the garden become so overgrown?

  The work did little to soothe her fever.

  As she yanked and pulled at the stubborn weeds, her mind wandered from her increasing anxiety about the glen, to torrid thoughts of Arthur, images of him holding himself above her in the throes of lovemaking that made her flush hot. What sort of woman had she become that she could dream of such blatantly carnal activities, and worse, feel them as she worked in her garden? She had not thought of lovemaking since long before her husband had died, and quite honestly, she could scarcely remember what it was like to be held by a man. But Arthur Arthur evoked somethi
ng in her she had never really known existed, something that yearned for the feel of a man deep inside her.

  Kerry suddenly sat back on her heels, shocked by the indecency of her thoughts, and pressed her dirty hands against her face to douse the burn in her cheeks. Was this what she had become, a wanton, thinking such indecent, lewd delicious thoughts?

  Aye, they were delicious thoughts; thoughts that warmed her all over and made her belly tingle in that queer way she had not known in so many long years. Moving thoughts that banished all else from her mind, refusing entry even to a wee bit of common sense. Fluid thoughts that melted her, made her feel strangely pretty, made her want to look at him again and again, touch him.

  Everywhere.

  Embarrassed, Kerry impulsively shoved her hands into the black dirt, digging for the root ball of one large, purple-stalked plant. She should be concentrating on the problems at hand, not commending herself to hell.

  And Lord, her problems needed all of her undivided attention now.

  Reluctantly, and with more than a little difficulty, she forced herself to review her predicament again as she had a thousand times or more, searching for answers. Not that anything had changed, oh noshe had read the letters again last night, hoping in vain that perhaps she had misinterpreted something in Mr. Regiss letter. But she hadnt misinterpreted a bloody thingMr. Regis was nothing if not precisethey were to be evicted, and every day that passed was one more day she had lost in finding a solution.

  Yet she felt an overwhelming and increasing determination to survive this catastrophe. Her journey to Dundee and back had awakened a staggering and surprising belief in herself. For the first time in her life, she thought herself capable of existing without a husband, or a mother, or a father. She had always thought of herself as her mothers unfortunate daughter, or her husbands wife and caregiver. Even when Frasers ability to oversee their modest holdings had left him, and she oversaw the old McKinnon clan holdings, she still believed he was the one who provided for them all.

  It had taken that extraordinary journey from Dundee to show her that she, Kerry McKinnon, was a survivor. She could survive without Fraser, without Lord Moncrieffe, without even Thomas. She was capable of shaping her destiny, capable of surviving the worst. And by God, she intended to survive this threat to her hearth, even though she hadnt the slightest notion how to stop what was happening. She only knew that she would not lose everything and be sent to the certain hell that awaited her in Glasgow. She would die first!