My Laird's Seduction: Scottish Historical Romance (A Laird to Love Book 4)

by Tammy Andresen

  “I’ll be fine. You take care of my mother tomorrow. And proceed carefully with my father. He’ll be angry.”

  Hells bells he hadn’t thought about that. He stopped her in the hall, just outside of the patient’s door. “I know this isn’t how we intended to marry, but I swear I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

  “I already am. I have you.” She leaned up and kissed him. “I’ll find you when the doctor comes.”

  James gave a tight nod. He had wanted a quick wedding and he couldn’t be happier with his bride, but somehow getting exactly what he wanted didn’t loosen the knot of dread in his stomach.

  Ainsley wiped her brow as she mopped the man’s forehead again. Laird Donough moaned in his sleep.

  The doctor had just left after declaring that the man likely had the mumps. It was a disease most healthy adults survived, which was a relief to Ainsley. Another twenty-four hours and his fever should break. In a week or two, he could join the world again.

  Ainsley sighed. Though she had married James, there would be no wedding night and the honeymoon would be delayed until he returned.

  She would miss sleeping in his arms. She’d miss him. With a smile, she wondered when she had fallen so hopelessly in love that she didn’t want to be parted from him.

  Agnes and Keiran had already left for their honeymoon and she had a momentary pang. She wished her wedding had been more like theirs, but then again, she wouldn’t subject Clarissa to this. In the end, this was how it was supposed to be.

  A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts and she straightened then crossed the room to answer it.

  A smile touched her lips but her voice was stern. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I heard the patient had mumps, is that true?”

  “That’s what the doctor believes. Apparently the swelling in his throat is a good indicator.” Ainsley wanted to step into his arms but she didn’t dare.

  He took the liberty of grabbing her about the waist and pulling her close. “I had them as a child, nasty business.”

  She tried to push away. “Then you know you shouldn’t be here.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not worried about me. There was a breakout of the disease on my boat a few years back. Anyone who’d had it as a child didn’t get it again. Good thing, too. Someone had to sail the ship.” He pulled her closer. “Tell me you’ve had it before.”

  She shook her head. “No, I never did.”

  “Well, that might be a problem.” He brushed her hair back. “At least you don’t have a twig and berries, you should have seen what happened to some of the men’s—” He stopped. “Never mind.”

  “What happened?” He was already making her smile.

  He gave a low chuckle. “What might happen to me when your father finds out I’ve married you.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m leaving with the tide tonight. I plan on sailing back here on the next tide, so I’ll only be gone for a few days. Do you think you’d have time to pen your father a letter? I know your mother will explain, but words from you might help.”

  She nodded, her own disappointment barely contained. While she was anxious to have him back, she hated to see him go. “Can you fetch me ink and paper?”

  He kissed her. “Thank you,” he whispered against her lips.

  She sighed into his. She held his strong shoulders and realized that she hadn’t missed a proper wedding at all, but the wedding night was another matter entirely. She wanted to be pressed against him. “I’d better return to my patient,” she said as she reluctantly stepped out of his arms.

  “I’ll be right back with the supplies.” He gave her a parting grin.

  He did leave that night, along with her mother, not that she properly said goodbye. She was busy and she didn’t want her mother falling ill either. It was strange. Ewan was also leaving with Callum the following day. She’d often wondered what it would like to be more independent.

  It was lonely.

  But it was temporary. He’d only been gone two days. Soon James would return and they’d go to visit her family. It only just occurred to her that she had no idea where they would live. In England? Where was his land in Scotland?

  It made her nervous to realize she knew so little about him and he wasn’t even here. What if he never came back? She tried to still these thoughts. It was silly. He wouldn’t have married her if he wasn’t serious. And he was with her family right now. Oh, that started new worries. What if her father ran him off?

  Lord Donough’s fever broke and Ainsley sighed with relief, though his body broke out in the most unsightly welts. The poor man. She fed him soup, for which he declared her an angel, and when he fell asleep, she returned to her own room. A hot bath was delivered and she soaked, trying to wash away her worries but they wouldn’t be quiet.

  Finally, she dragged herself out of the tub and collapsed into bed. She hadn’t slept much these past few days; maybe a good night’s rest would improve her outlook. With that, she fell asleep without even donning her night rail.

  Just as the first rays of the sun started to peek into her window, a sound woke her from her deep sleep. Had it been a door opening or something scraping the floor? Her groggy eyes opened to see a pair of legs next to her bed.

  “What?” she mumbled, as she tried to sit up, the covers partially falling away.

  “You’re naked,” James said.

  Her eyes snapped up to his face. “You’re here.”

  Without another thought, she dropped the covers and scrambled onto her knees to wrap her arms about his neck.

  He quickly circled her waist with his arms, one of his hands dropping down to cup and then hold her buttocks.

  She responded by wrapping her legs about his waist, kissing him until she’d no sense of how much time had passed.

  But at some point, she’d found the ties on the front of his shirt and she loosened it, tugging it over his head. They both groaned as their skin came into contact.

  His other hand left her waist, but she realized he was tugging at his own pants and her hand slipped down his torso to help him. They only made it as far as his thighs before they tumbled back onto the bed, his manhood plunging into her waiting body.

  “Yes,” she moaned, tightening her legs around his midsection.

  His response was to push deeper inside as the ground together, panting wildly as though they were making up for the days they had missed.

  His hand fisted in her hair, still undone from the night before and he pushed the tempo faster, causing them both to groan and grind as they raced toward the end.

  Her fingers dug into his back. “James.” It came out as a breathy plea. “Faster.”

  “Love,” the single word was a growl but somehow, it was affectionate. “Say that again, and I will come undone.”

  She nearly said it again but words failed her as her body shattered and her cries echoed about the room. It seemed only to encourage his end, for in moments he was shuddering above her, his own finish drowning out hers.

  Then he collapsed on top of her, their bodies pressed together. “I missed you.” His lips sought hers as his fingers relaxed in the tresses of her hair.

  “I missed you too, I didn’t like to be without you,” she confessed between kisses.

  He chuckled. “I didn’t like being with your father without you.” Then he picked up her up slightly to move her so that her head now rested on the pillow.

  “Was it awful?” she asked, but her sleep filled her voice. She hadn’t had nearly enough of it and with her body spent, she could barely keep her eyes open. Especially with his warmth pressed against her.

  “It was fine. I’ll tell you about it later.” He kissed her forehead, snuggling her deeper against her body. “Sleep now, my heart.”

  She did, but even as she drifted off, she knew she was smiling.

  Chapter Fifteen

  That smile lasted all through the day and into the night. Very early the next morning they set sail. Not that she wou
ld have known, except for the rocking of the ship. They sequestered themselves in James’s quarters. Food was delivered outside the door. The journey would only take a day and half but she honestly wished it were longer.

  “I pictured myself going on a great adventure on a ship,” she giggled as they lay in bed after their third bout of lovemaking. “But I somehow expected to see more scenery.”

  He gave her a wicked grin. “I have found the scenery on this voyage breathtaking.”

  She giggled again, but the sound was cut off by his lips as he pulled her against him again.

  Their lovemaking was still frantic. Though they’d only missed a few days together, it was as though they were making up for lost time. When it was done, she was too spent even to eat and fell asleep with her head on his chest listening to the beating of his heart.

  Her dreams were strange though, and a restlessness filled her that she couldn’t explain. She pressed closer to James, trying to fend the feeling off, trying to be safe and warm.

  “Ainsley.” His gruff voice pulled at her but she couldn’t shake the dream she was in. “Wake up, love. Now. Wake up.”

  She tried to push her eyelids open but they barely raised as she squinted up at him. “James?” she croaked, her throat feeling as though it were being stabbed by a thousand needles.

  His hand came to her cheek and then her forehead. “You’re burning up.”

  She shook her head. “You should leave. I don’t want you to get—”

  “Not bloody happening, love.” His voice was soft despite the harshness of his words. He did rise from the bed but it was to pour a glass of water from the nearby pitcher. “I want you to drink.”

  It made her shiver to think about it and she shook her head no, but he pressed the glass to her lips anyway even as he lifter her.

  “Just a little now, love.” His voice was soft and soothing. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

  After he’d given her several sips, he set the glass aside, and climbed back into bed. “Let’s keep you warm.”

  Laying her head back on his chest, she fell into an uneasy sleep.

  The day passed in much the same fashion, not that she was able to keep track of time. But as the sun shone through the porthole, it burned her eyes and she burrowed deeper into James’s chest. “We’re almost home,” he whispered. “Just waiting on the tide to bring us in.”

  He gave her more water and attempted to give her food, though she couldn’t abide it. As the ship docked, he dressed her, though it made her ache terribly, and then he wrapped her in several blankets.

  She fell asleep in his arms, but she had no recollection of how he managed to get her up the ladder and onto the deck. Her father’s booming voice woke her as they crossed the lawn to her home.

  “What in damnation is going on?” The sound of his yelling made her head ache.

  “Please, Da,” she whispered. “Not so loud, the light is already too bright.”

  “Light? We’re in Scotland. It’s cloudy.” But his voice has softened considerably.

  “She’s got the mumps from the man she cared for. I’m sure of it,” James told her father.

  She heard her father’s voice rumble in anger. “Hand her over to me then, we’ll care for her.”

  “You shouldn’t risk it. I’ve already been exposed. Besides, I survived a few outbreaks.” James didn’t move. She loved her father, and she knew he would care for her, but right now, she wanted to be pressed against James. His arms were more comforting than any other place she could be.

  “I don’t care about that, she’s my daughter—”

  “She’s my wife,” James said more loudly and she cringed. He responded more softly. “I’ll take good care of her, my lord. Have food trays and fresh water left outside the door. We’ll keep the rest of the house from being exposed.”

  Her father must have agreed because before she knew it, he was carrying her into the house and up the stairs. Dimly, she heard the gasps and whispers of what must have been her family but she couldn’t think about them now. She just wanted to be back in bed.

  For three days it went on. James made her drink, tried to make her eat, stayed in bed with her to keep her warm. On the fourth day, her fever finally broke. Her body was still exhausted but she could finally stand food and her sleep wasn’t plagued by nightmares.

  When she woke that evening, James wasn’t in bed with her. She sat up to find him pouring buckets of water into a bath. “I thought you’d like to soak.” He gave her a soft smile and she smiled back.

  “That sounds lovely.” She stretched, her stomach grumbling with hunger. “And maybe something to eat.”

  His grin spread as he crossed to a tray and put a hunk of cheese on a slice of bread. “Excellent idea.”

  Stretching her hand out to take the food, she noticed several large welts on her arm. She blinked. Was she seeing spots? Looking to James, he looked absolutely fine.

  Glancing quickly to her other arm, she saw more spots. Pulling back the covers, she lifted her night rail to find her legs inundated with the same unsightly spots. “Hand me a mirror,” she pushed out, her voice rasping.

  “I don’t think that is a good idea.” He winced and handed her the food.

  She let her hand holding the bread drop to her lap. “I want to see.”

  Slowly, he crossed to her vanity and grabbed a hand mirror. “It’s temporary love, just don’t itch them and you’ll be fine.”

  He handed her the mirror and she immediately brought it to her face, but her reflection made her drop it again. She was a hideous monster. Not only was her face covered in more of those grotesque bumps but her throat had swollen to five times its normal size. “Get out of here,” she whispered.

  “No,” he replied.

  She tried to form words. He would never love her after this. With all her pretty dresses and lovely smiles, he’d barely loved her then. Now, how could anyone, most especially him, feel any affection for her? She turned her back to him and buried her face in the pillow. “Please,” she begged.

  “Love,” he whispered and the bed sank down next to her as she sat. “I won’t leave you no matter how beautifully you ask. You need care.”

  “Beautifully?” she choked on the word. “I’ll never be beautiful again. How can you stand the sight of me?”

  “What?” His hand came to stroke her hair. “I love you, Ainsley Rotheport.”

  That made her start. She was Lady Rotheport now.

  “I made an agreement to love you in sickness and health, I meant it. What you did for Clarissa, putting yourself at risk, getting sick. That makes me love you more, not less. This is the woman I want to spend my life with. I’d give everything I have to be with her.”

  Tears, for an entirely different reason stung at her eyes. His words were so lovely that she turned toward him. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Every word.” He gathered her into his arms. “I know I’ve been distant but I feel closer to you than I have to anyone in my life, ever. I’ll try to be worthy of your love, if you let me.”

  “Worthy of my love?” She blinked. “Silly man, you’ve cared for me these past days, held me even though I am repulsive. It’s me who should try to be worthy of you.”

  He laughed then. “We shall try to good enough for one another.” Then kissing the top of her head, he lifted her hand, still holding the bread to her lips. “Now eat. And then a bath.”

  She took a bite, and gave him a small smile. “I love you.”

  As he lifted her in his arms, he held her close. “I love you, too.”

  Six months later

  Ainsley stood on the deck of James’s ship and watched Scotland pass by. Summer was in full bloom and the view took her breath away. That was until James joined her. Then she couldn’t see anything but him as he stepped next to her.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” His voice rumbled low in her ear as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her in front of him as they both watched the shore.r />
  “All right,” she lied, snuggling against him. She only felt ill in the mornings and then it passed. The ship wasn’t helping but she wouldn’t give up this trip for anything. They were sailing to England to spend the summer at James’s English property before they returned to her parent’s home in the fall.

  Eventually, they would take up residence at James’s Scottish holdings but he claimed he wasn’t in any rush. The truth of the matter was that he loved her father almost as much as he loved her. Not that she was complaining.

  After he’d nursed her though her illness, her father had unofficially declared James his favorite son-in-law. And honestly, she thought James might consider her father the father he’d never had.

  His hand travelled down to her stomach, still flat. “Have you eaten anything?”

  She rolled her eyes. Not only was James never distant, he was a downright mother hen since her illness. Always clucking after her. She tried to remember what the man she’d first met had been like. Rakish, cold, and hard. But he was so different from her husband, she had trouble recalling that other person. “I had tea and a biscuit.”

  “Should I have Peaves make you eggs?” Peaves was the cook, and it likely wasn’t his fault but she couldn’t abide his cooking.

  “Gads, no,” she wrinkled her nose. “Stop clucking.”

  He chuckled close to her ear, his other arm wrapping about her shoulders. “Shall I take you back to our room, Lady Rotheport?”

  Ah, there was her delightful rake. Not the one that insulted her, of course. That man had disappeared so long ago. But the one that kissed her with burning need, he was behind her right now. “Lord Rotheport,” she purred. “You are terrible.”

  He nuzzled that spot on her neck that made her shiver and then kissed his way up the side of her face, his lips grazing a scar from one of the mumps that graced her temple. “Aye, love, I am.”

  She liked the scar, actually. Every time she caught sight of it, she remembered what it meant to give up her vanities and, in return, receive the love of her rake. “Well, in that case, you should probably take me to bed.”