His Tarnished Ruby

by Kelsey McKnight

  “I suppose I must get to my carriage,” he said, but made no move to do so.

  Flora bit her lip, feeling oddly like a specimen under a microscope as he regarded her with his warm brown gaze. “I hope you have a pleasant journey.”

  “Miss MacLeod, will you be coming to London any time in the future?”

  “I can’t say at present. I’ve only just returned home.”

  “Certainly…certainly. Well, it was lovely meeting you, Miss MacLeod. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye,” she replied.

  Flora watched Andrew reach his carriage. He turned to glance at her once more before disappearing within and beginning his travel toward home. She felt almost sorry to see him go. He had quite opened up in their short hours together, although she was still wildly curious as to where his abominable stutter had come from and where it had gone so suddenly. His true voice was a comfortable baritone, his words the fine, melodic clip of an English gentleman.

  “Flora,” another voice rumbled at her side.

  She glanced up to see Jasper standing over her, his eyes wild. He seemed angry with her and her heart began pounding as he loomed over her. He wouldn’t ever hurt her, physically at least, but his irate presence unsettled her.

  “Jasper,” she greeted shortly before beginning her walk at a swift pace. Although it was unladylike, she hoped to outrun him, but his legs were much longer than hers. She made it out the gate and into the open land before he grabbed her arm.

  “Flora,” he growled again.

  She pulled away and planted her hands on her hips. “Flora, Flora, Flora! Don’t you have anything else to say?”

  His brows rose, all former anger gone from his features. “Flora, are ye cross with me?”

  “Oh, do I have a reason to be?” she asked sarcastically.

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “No, I do no’ think so. I only spied ye with that Brit and wanted to see what ye were up to.”

  “We were just talking, not that it is any of your business.” She stalked away, her shoes sinking into the tufts of grass beneath them.

  He jogged slightly to keep up with her hurried strides. “Flora, speak to me, I beg ye.”

  “Go away, Jasper.” She felt hot tears prick the backs of her eyelids, but she was resolute that she would drop dead before letting him see her fall to pieces.

  “Flora, what’s wrong?”

  Exasperated, she stopped and turned on him. “You! You’re what’s wrong! I saw you in the bloody hall with that bloody maid, and again later, letting her lead you to her room! I was there, Jasper! You said all the pretty words I longed to hear, yet bedded some scullery girl!”

  He rubbed at the back of his neck, gazing down at the ground. “Ach, lass…it’s no’ what ye think.”

  “I’m young, Jasper, not a total fool.”

  “I never said ye were.” He took her hands in hers, and although she hated to admit it, the feeling of their sturdy roughness helped to soothe her wounded heart.

  “You made a fool out of me,” she admitted quietly, her words almost whipped away by the highland winds. “I’ve tried so hard, but you cast me aside to bed another without a thought to me.”

  “Flora…Flora, it’s only been you. O’ course I flirt a bit with some o’ the lasses, but only because I dare no’ touch ye.”

  “What do you mean? You’re touching me now.”

  “Ye are the laird’s sister. I only want you, but I dare no’ act on my feelin’s. I respect ye and the MacLeod too much. I only flirt with the others so the lads do no’ torment me. I never mean to hurt ye and I will no’. I did no’…bed Una. I only made it look so…for the lads, ye see? There’s only you, Flora.”

  Her breath hitched in her throat and she struggled to control the sea of confusing emotions whirling within her. On one hand, she wished nothing more than to slap him across his handsome face. On the other, falling into his arms would feel heavenly. Jasper had finally said all the things she longed to hear. He admitted she was the one for him and confessed that he hadn’t bedded Una. Still, he had wounded her pride and made her doubt all his previous whispers of love…well, caring, as he had never said explicitly that he loved her.

  Despite her tumultuous feelings, her heart won over her mind and she collapsed into his chest, allowing herself to cry into the rough fabric of his weathered plaid. He patted her back and leaned his cheek atop her head. It felt ever so intimate and Flora despised the thought of ever pulling away, although Jasper did first.

  “There’s a storm comin’. I feel the winds change,” he murmured. “Let’s get back inside before the rain starts.”

  “Jasper,” she began, her voice wavering. “Do you mean to make your intentions clear to my brother?”

  He frowned. “My intentions?”

  “Yes, he’ll want to know that you’ll be able to care for me…and any children.”

  He scratched his chin, his eyes trained on the gray sky. “Oh, that. Aye, aye, I will.”

  Flora felt as if her heart would leap from her chest, it was so light. The weight of keeping their romance a secret for so long and having the burden lifted from her soul was invigorating. The possibility of having Jasper as her husband was brilliant and she wanted nothing more than to go to Conner that very moment to make their relationship known. Then Jasper would no longer have to toy with the maids to keep his friends from teasing him. It was perfect. But she wasn’t about to let his fake dalliance with Una go so easily.

  “I’ll have you know I’m still miffed about your entanglement with Una, no matter how false, and I’m not about to forgive so easily.”

  Jasper’s cheeky grin from earlier had returned. “Aye? Then what should I do to beg your forgiveness?”

  “That’s up to you to decide,” she told him shortly before beginning a leisurely stroll back to the castle.

  Her steps were significantly lighter. Flora was pleased that Jasper had admitted his thoughts on a potential marriage and that they were able to resume their normal flirtations in public. Perhaps they could be handfasted on the morrow, making them able to relish the joys of marriage while still planning a large wedding for the spring. She knew she couldn’t outlast the months ahead.

  “I think I know how to get ye to forgive me,” Jasper called, matching her steps.

  “Oh, have you? And how’s that?” she asked with a smile.

  “With a kiss.”

  “A kiss?”

  “Aye. Just a wee one to keep between you and I.”

  They stood together before the walls of the MacLeod keep, their eyes locked. Flora felt her knees grow weak as he moved closer. Jasper cupped one cheek and leaned down, pausing a moment before pressing his lips to hers in the briefest caress—so swift, Flora wouldn’t have known it even happened, if it did not leave a touch of fire in its wake.

  “Just a kiss,” Jasper crooned, his fingertips brushing Flora’s jawbone. “Just a wee kiss.”

  Chapter Four

  Three days had passed quietly since Flora’s kiss with Jasper. While she had left their meeting feeling as if all was falling into place, he proved her wrong. When she sent word to meet her in the family sitting room after supper to speak with Conner about the handfasting, Jasper never arrived. Flora was left sitting in silence, pretending to read the same page in her book, her eyes constantly flitting toward the door and her heart leaping into her throat at each passing sound of footsteps. When the hour grew late and the fire had burned almost to embers, it was clear Jasper was not coming.

  She was left to stew in her anger, the dull flame heating her chest. Flora was pleased when the Elmslys left, taking Matthew with them. The lack of male companionship allowed her to convene with Charlie over the matter of her absent intended. Charlie always had a knack for the matters of men, both in the boardroom and the bedroom, and she was sure he would show her the way.

  Charlie sat in his dressing robe, a pipe in his lips, when Flora came to his guest chambers. Normally, it would be rather unseemly to be alone wit
h a man, but Charlie’s true interests were a well-accepted “secret.” So Flora was quite content to sit with him before the fire, eating candied plums and getting unbiased opinions on the matter of her almost engagement.

  “Darling, I’ve met men like him,” Charlie told her in a confident manner. “I’ve been a man like him. I’m not certain he has any interest in pursuing anything further.”

  “But he says differently,” Flora replied, feeling a tad miffed that the first words out of Charlie’s lips branded Jasper a cad.

  He patted her hand. “I know, I know. That’s the way of men. They whisper pretty things then do another. It’s not fair, but it’s just in their—our nature.”

  “Well, at least you never lie to me.”

  “And I won’t. Now, tell me what it is you truly want with Jasper. I understand your attraction…everyone can see he’s rather good-looking in that rugged and outdoorsy sense, but is he truly husband material?”

  “Everything thinks not,” Flora admitted. “But I see him differently. He takes such care when he’s with me and tells me he wants only me in his life.”

  “Flora, have you…” Charlie’s gaze darted toward the closed door and his voice lowered. “Well, have you taken him to your bed?”

  Her cheeks flamed. “Certainly not. I intend to be his wife first. He says…well, he’s always been quite pleased at me staying pure for him.”

  He chuckled, his mouth full of plums. “Forgive me, you just wouldn’t be the first around here who has taken a ride on the Highland Express in order to get their man.”

  “You’re terrible!” Flora laughed. “But I haven’t, nor has Jasper pressured me to do so. He’s never once behaved inappropriately.”

  “That does change things, doesn’t it?” he muttered, almost to himself.

  “How so?”

  “You said that this flirtation has lasted the better part of two years, yes?”

  “Around that.”

  “Two years and only a single kiss to show for it.” Charlie chewed the end of his unlit pipe and sighed. “I’m not sure if I should be sad for you or pat you on the back for keeping your petticoats down.”

  “What do you mean? Why would you feel sad for me?”

  “You see, darling, when a man is besotted with a woman mind, body, and soul, he can almost never control his desire.”

  “You mean like Charlotte and Conner?”

  “Precisely. Now look at Penelope and her old beau Theodore. She told us herself that their relationship had no passion even before she found him…handling the help. Now, between her and that Drummond…well, one might say that their longing is what brought them to the altar.”

  “But they do love each other.”

  “Yes, yes, but you’re missing the point. What do both Charlotte and Penelope have in common when it comes to getting married?”

  Flora paused. Of course there was love in both couplings, but there was more that that—a tangible spark everyone noticed whenever they came into a room. There was an aura about them and each moved in perfect alignment to one another. And there was another thing…both pairings were physically drawn to one another to the point of nauseating all who came to view them.

  “I suppose they are all very physically connected.”

  “And were so before marriage.”

  “Oh…well…” Flora floundered. That thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. “Surely you aren’t suggesting I take Jasper into my bed?”

  Charlie let out a deep, bellowing laugh. “Goodness no, you daft little lamb.”

  She let out a breath of relief. “I’m pleased to hear it.”

  “That wouldn’t help things in the slightest. If he’s been avoiding you for days, I wouldn’t think that would be in your best interest.”

  “Do you think it’s a lost cause?” Flora asked, feeling her heart sink. “Have I wasted my youth?”

  “Wasted your youth? Darling Flora, you’re only just at the cusp of your youth. Of course I don’t mean to minimize your feelings, but pining over that scoundrel in your adolescence and being betrayed doesn’t mean you’re destined to be a spinster.”

  “A spinster,” she said, a loveless future looming menacingly over her.

  “Don’t fret about spinsterhood,” Charlie commanded stoutly. “I won’t let it come to that.”

  “Oh? What would you do then? Force Jasper to marry me?”

  “Don’t be a fool. I’ll do it myself.”

  A strangled sound akin to a chuckle burst from her lips. “Certainly you’re joking?”

  “Not at all,” he replied evenly, packing another pinch of tobacco into his pipe. “I think it would be a rather good arrangement for the both of us. You could be free to do as you wished and visit me in London at your pleasure. Meanwhile, I could pursue my own interests while appeasing society at large. Our combined fortunes would leave us living a comfortable life and we’re already such good friends. I see it as a comfortable end, if you find yourself without a man.”

  Flora giggled. “No offense, Charlie, but I had hoped to marry for love, not freedom.”

  He shrugged and leaned back into his armchair. “Suit yourself. I’ll just have to marry some other charming lady who doesn’t mind me dallying with her brothers and uncles.”

  “I wish you all the luck in the world.”

  “It won’t be too hard. I’ll just find a woman who also finds no pleasure in the company of the other sex.”

  Flora contemplated his words for a brief moment before her jaw fell open. “Do you mean to say there are women who enjoy the company of other women…intimately?”

  “My sweet summer child.” Charlie grinned and looked toward the fire. “You do have much to learn about the world.”

  ***

  Flora left her conversation with Charlie even more confused than before. But she had learned many things; the most notable being that Charlie would be her backup husband, saving her from an empty life of spinsterhood, and the other being that some women didn’t have any interest in men at all. Jolly good for them, she’d say, as they were free from the endless lies men spout.

  Not wishing to go to her room, she wandered aimlessly down the corridors and found herself before the empty feasting hall. Her gentle footfalls hardly made a sound against the stone. As she sat on one of the worn wooden benches, Flora could hear the distant dim of the servants preparing supper in the kitchens below. So much life teamed within the castle, but she often felt so very alone. She laid her head atop her arms on the tabletops and prepared to have good cry.

  “Flora?” asked a rough voice behind her.

  She lifted her head and saw Jasper standing in the doorway of the hall. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was lookin’ for ye,” he answered, taking steady steps in her direction.

  “Is that so?” she shot back with more venom in her voice than she would have liked. Flora hated the thought of him seeing her as anything other than a perfectly poised lady of breeding.

  “Aye.”

  “Well, that’s surprising, as I believe you’ve been hiding from me.”

  “Ach, no. I’d never hide from ye.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  Jasper rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze traveling about the room, anywhere but toward her face. “Well, I did no’ hide from ye…”

  “Then what were you doing?”

  “I was merely bidin’ my time.”

  Flora tried to swallow her anger, but his avoidance of her statements was making it almost impossible to do. “Jasper, if you have nothing of value to say, then leave me be.”

  “Lass, do no’ be vexed with me,” he muttered, grabbing one of her hands and holding it tightly between his own.

  She debated pulling her fingers from his grasp, but found that she enjoyed his touch too much. “And why shouldn’t I be? You’ve been completely avoiding me. You didn’t even come when I summoned you to speak with Conner!”

  “Ah, aye. Well, ye see…I could no’ co
me.”

  “And why ever not? The cattle have all been brought in from the hills for winter, there are no feuds, and all the taxes have been collected. What matter was so pressing that you couldn’t even send word to me?” She drew away from him and angled her body toward the far wall, her back to him. “I waited in that study for hours, Jasper. I was humiliated.”

  “And I’m sorry, Flora. I never meant to harm ye.”

  “Then what did you mean to do?” She felt hot tears well in her eyes, but she tried to keep her composure. She couldn’t let him see her weak and in pain.

  “I…I was just…the MacLeod never would allow it. There’s no way he would ever allow it.”

  Flora felt the weight of his hand press down upon her shoulder. She shrugged it off. “How would you know? You weren’t even brave enough to speak with him.”

  “Because I know him. I’ve fought with him. I’ve shared his home and drank from his cup. He respects me as a man, but would never think me good enough for his sister.”

  “You didn’t even try.”

  “He’d have me flogged.”

  Flora whipped around to face him. “He would never! Not if he knew that you would treat me well.”

  “He’d never trust me with ye.”

  She studied his face, so ruggedly cut and earnest, and almost believed him. Conner could be judgmental and suspicious, almost to a fault. But, then again, that’s how he held his seat as Laird. “He just thinks me too young and foolish to make decisions for myself.”

  “I do no’ think ye young and foolish,” Jasper told her fervently.

  “I’m tired of him brushing away my feelings and you being too frightened to act upon them.”

  “Flora, I—”

  “No!” She stood, her skirts flying around her ankles. “No more excuses and no more fearful, pathetic justifications!”

  A pained look flashed upon Jasper’s features, but he made no moves to calm her. “Please, Flora.”

  She held up her hand. “Don’t. Just…don’t.”