“Hello there.” Georgiana rubbed her cheek against the horse’s muzzle before dropping a kiss on the wiry hair on his forehead. “How’s my old lad today? Hmm, Crowley?”
She rubbed his jaw and up and under his forelock in the manner Mal had discovered so long ago Crowley enjoyed. The older he got, the more he appreciated the affectionate touch. Unlike Baird, the horse was truly an old lad now.
One of the last witnesses to what had been the best and worst days of her life.
The horse nickered softly and nudged his muzzle under her chin. Georgiana smiled but then the gesture grew wobbly. A moment later tears filled her eyes.
She hugged him tight and buried her face against his graying coat. “Oh, Crowley, what am I to do? Find him? I would love that more than anything, but what then? You know better than anyone there is no way this can end well. Not after everything that happened.”
Chapter Eight
Outside of Bath, England
Early April 1800
“Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,/ And the rocks melt ei’ the sun;/ And I will luve thee, still, my dear,/ While the sands o’ life shall run./ And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve!/ And fare-thee-weel, a while! Fare-the-weel,” Georgiana repeated again. “Mal, am I saying that correctly? Or is more like wheel?” Her attempts to master the Scottish accent Robert Burns might have used when writing his poetry were not at all as perfect as Mal’s were when he read to her. “Mal?”
She lowered the book and studied Mal who was lying with his head on her lap. His eyes were open, so he hadn’t fallen asleep, but his glazed stare was fixed on the cloudless blue sky peeking through the tree branches overhead.
Since the spring day had turned out to be inordinately warm, he’d rented a carriage and driven her southeast of town for an idyllic picnic on the banks of a small pond close to Perrymead. Her maid, Jane, had been sent along as usual to chaperone them, but as had become the norm, was happy enough to be dropped off to visit her own young beau while Mal and Georgiana enjoyed an improper amount of time alone.
They’d found a spot in the shade of a tree so Georgiana wouldn’t burn in the sun and freckle more than she already was. Bluebell, appreciative of the respite from the incessant walking of the past few weeks, frolicked through the grass before napping on a sunny corner of the blanket while they dined from the basket Mal brought along. After they’d eaten, he shed his uniform jacket and removed her bonnet, flinging them to the side, and dropped down as he was now. Though he normally read from his countryman Burns’ works, she’d begged to have a chance to read. Had she bored him so thoroughly?
“Mal? Are you listening to me?”
“I’m sorry, lass. What did you say?”
She might’ve taken him to task over his distraction, but as he was normally attentive, concern overrode the impulse and her own worries. Setting the volume of poetry aside, she stroked the dark hair back from his temple. “You’ve been rather quiet today. Are you feeling unwell?”
“Nay, lass.” With a shake of his head, Mal grasped her fingers and drew them to his lips. “My apologies for my inattention. I’m afraid I’ve other matters on my mind today.”
“On such a lovely day as this?” she teased. “It’s far too divine for morose thinking.”
“My thoughts are far from morose.”
“What are they then?”
“Some are about this.”
Slipping his hand behind her neck, Mal drew Georgiana’s lips to his. With a sigh of pleasure, she fell into the light kiss. Her fingertips trailed over his rugged jaw much as his tongue tickled along her lips. Giving in to the silent urging without a token of resistance, she parted her lips and welcomed him.
How she adored his kiss. The thrill of his firm lips against hers. The tender stroke of his tongue. They all began like that…sweet and gentle. But as always, within moments her pulse raced with excitement and even the coolest spring day became as hot and humid as a late August afternoon. He’d far exceeded her imagination on the matter of kissing. What once might have roused a giggle at the thought now provoked low moans of longing and arousal. He’d shown her the passion that could be found in a simple kiss, left her breathless and aching in a way she couldn’t quite define.
Each time, she wanted something more. As she did now.
However, Mal drew back. He sat, removing himself from her lap and out of arm’s reach. His usually merry gaze was dark and hungry, his own breath labored and unsteady. Georgiana knew he longed for more as well, though he was too much of a gentleman to take advantage. Despite her shameless encouragement.
“My bonny Georgie,” he rasped, leaning closer. Her lower lip trembled when his thumb brushed it, but his hand also shook. “Ye’re an enticing enchantress, lass.”
“Then kiss me some more?” she begged.
With a heartfelt groan, he lifted his face to the heavens. This time his eyes were shut as if he were in prayer. “How ye tempt me.”
“I am trying.”
With a ragged chuckle, he raked both hands through his hair then cast her a hot sidelong glance. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I ken that ye are.”
A shiver of pleasure and power raced through her. “But you will not be?”
“I cannae be,” he ground out, his brogue thick and rough. “Nae matter how tempted I am. God save me for falling for an innocent.”
Laughter teased at her lips. “Oh, I’m not quite as innocent as I was a month ago.”
He took her hand and bent his head over it, his lips still hot as he kissed her palm, sending quivers of delight spiraling outward. “Innocent enough.”
Georgiana curled her fingers when he released her, as if she could forever hold the kiss. “So no more then?”
He grinned. “No’ if I value my sanity.”
Pouting for a moment, she shook her disappointment away. “Tell me what else occupies your mind today then if it was not only kissing me.”
“Oh, that.” His amusement faded and Mal stared out over the small pond they were picnicking next to. He leapt to his feet, the motion rousing the dog, and strode to the waterline, leaving her sitting alone on the blanket.
Concern growing, she thought to join him there but Bluebell curled up in her lap. A moment later he spun back, his gaze troubled. “Our regiment has been given orders to ready for deployment.”
“Deployment?” She didn’t know exactly what that meant in military terms but combined with his serious demeanor, it didn’t sound good.
“We’re to ship out to the Mediterranean Sea to help force the French out of Alexandria.” He confirmed her fears.
“Egypt?”
“Aye,” he said with a grim nod.
“Oh.”
Just that. It was all she could think of to say. She stroked the dog’s sleek head, seeking comfort. She’d known from discussions at Mrs. Montagu’s there had been problems with the new self-styled emperor of France, Napoleon Bonaparte, spreading his revolutionary forces into the Middle East. Two years past, Captain Lord Nelson had proven victorious at the Battle of the Nile at Abukir Bay and cut off their advance. Hadn’t that been the end of it?
“I thought Napoleon had retreated back to France?”
A ghost of a smile crossed Mal’s lips. “I love that you read the newspapers. Aye, he did, but he left his troops in place in Egypt and Palestine. Once again they are causing troubles. Our troops are to assemble in Malta by early fall to push them back to France again.”
So he was leaving.
Georgiana’s heart slowed to a painful thud in her chest. Then pounded again like a thunderclap, leaving a slow burn to radiate outward like wild fire. “Whe—” Her voice grated like gravel in her throat. She coughed and tried again. “When do you leave then?”
Mal crossed his arms over his broad chest, looking for all the world like a savage Highland warrior from centuries past with that scowl on his face and his kilt flapping in the wind. He’d never looked so masculine. So handsome.
She’d never been so certai
n she was about to lose him.
* * *
“Next month.” Not long ago, he would have anticipated the journey, even in risking his life for King and country. It was all part of the life he’d wanted…before Georgie had come along and altered his ambitions. Mal wasn’t certain what he wanted from life any more as long as she was a part of it. The indecision churned annoyingly in his gut. “If I were to go.”
“If? How could you not?”
Lines furrowed between her brows and her full lips turned down as confusion clouded her bonny face. Nevertheless, she was lovely enough to stop his heart.
The past month had been a revelation to him. Each moment he spent with Georgie, each day gone by, he expected that instantaneous attraction to fade or his interest to wane as it usually had with ladies in the past.
Yet each hour, every minute, she lingered in his thoughts. Taken at first by her beauty and the rush of desire that had consumed him on first sight, what bound him continued to grow the more he knew her. Her intelligence, wit. Endless curiosity.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t chomping at the bit with tenuously reined in lust. He longed to do far more than kiss his wee minx. But she was an innocent and he, for all his occasional crudeness, was a gentleman born.
He wouldn’t touch her without her being his. Nor could he leave her behind. Not without a fight.
He loved her.
It’d been the most profound realization of his life, and one of the hardest to accept. For better or worse, he loved her. Yet he wasn’t entirely certain where he stood in her affections. For all her acumen, she was young. She hadn’t seen much of the world beyond Bath and its limited society. Hadn’t yet seen all of the options that might be available to her. Men with power, wealth, and titles.
Mal shifted from foot to foot, uncertainty setting him on edge. “I thought I might sell my commission.”
“And do what? Return home?”
Was that disappointment in her voice at the thought he might leave without her? Och, he hoped so.
“Georgie, lass…” Mal trailed off and came to the blanket, nudging her blasted dog aside. “I have no occupation other than the military, no living. So I’d have to go home for a while at least.”
Her gaze fell to her lap and she wrung her hands. “Oh.”
He dropped to his knees next to her and gathered her hands in his, her flesh soft and pale against his dark, calloused skin. He was about to dig himself a grave he hadn’t thought to occupy for many a year, but he couldn’t find any regret in it. He only knew he must. It simply had to be.
“If I were to go, I thought I might take a wife home wi’ me as well.”
“A wife…?” Georgiana’s full lips rounded into an O of surprise, chasing away the befuddlement of moments before.
A becoming pink blush fanned out over her cheeks. She was deliciously kissable, but he held himself in check. “Will ye be that wife, lass? Wed wi’ me and be my bride?”
Georgie bit her lip and lowered her gaze but not before he noticed the unshed tears shimmering there. “My father…”
“He will come around. I’ll talk to him, ask for yer hand as a proper suitor. Once he’s aware of the depth of my love for ye, how could he deny us?”
“Your love?” Her head jerked up and she stared at him in genuine shock.
Mal couldn’t determine the source of her surprise. “Aye, my love. Och, Georgie, surely ye ken how I love ye? I’ve written as much a dozen times.”
She might’ve been gaping like a landed fish but he thought her utterly adorable, proving how far he’d fallen.
“Po-poets often use such terms in their work,” she whispered. “I thought it all a part of your poetic soul.”
“I was ne’er a poet ’til I met ye, my bonny Georgie. Ye’ve taken my heart from me.” He took her hands again. “Ye hold in these wee hands all the power of the auld gods. Ye could crush me in an instant. Ye still might.”
“You love me?”
His manhood lay staked on a virtual altar at her feet and all she could think was to question him further rather than respond to his proposal?
On tenterhooks, Mal nodded. “Aye, lass, I love ye.”
“Oh, Mal.”
Georgie flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as the force of her body set him off balance and they tumbled backwards together. He held her tight, making certain his body took the blow as they fell to the blanket. Bluebell bounced around them excitedly, thinking it all a game. Bracing her hands on his chest, she leaned away and looked down at him. The sun working its way through the tree branches reflected off her hair like a fiery halo, her face now aglow with heavenly joy.
“You love me.”
“I believe I covered that already.” He tugged at the green ribbon tying her hair back and freed the flaming locks. Running the length through his fingers, he let her hair fall seductively over her shoulders and spill over him. He caught a strand, warm from the sun and smelling of lavender, and raised it to his lips. “This isnae something I planned for or expected to happen, but I do. Tell me, lass, are ye glad of it?”
“Oh, I’m beyond glad. I would have hated being in love alone.”
She hardly gave him a moment to savor his relief before she kissed him. Her curious canine tried to poke her nose between them, but he’d have nothing of those bluidy antics from the wee rat now. He had much more serious matters on his mind.
* * *
Georgiana never imaged how euphoria could pervade a person’s entire body. From head to toe, inside and out, happiness suffused every part of her. Knowing, for whatever reason, Mal returned her love, sent her senses skyward.
She kissed him with thankfulness that her prayers had been answered, that he shared her love. That she’d never have to let him go.
They’d be together forever.
“Yes,” she murmured against his lips. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he asked, pulling away.
“Yes. I will marry you.”
Saying the words sent another rush of joy through her, and from the elation mirrored on Mal’s face, he felt it, too. With an eruption of laughter that couldn’t be contained, she kissed him again, spearing her fingers into his mahogany locks to hold him close. He chuckled against her mouth without breaking the kiss.
Coaxing her lips to part, his tongue swept around hers and the amusement faded. Unfamiliar exhilaration seized and her confidence surged. Georgiana angled her head to the side, as he’d often done, and kissed him deeply. She poured all she had in her heart into the kiss. Her tongue met his, tangled and retreated, and she savored the taste of him. Beneath her, his chest rose and stilled but she didn’t withdraw. Instead, she licked his lips, his jaw, before sucking on his lower lip. All things he’d enticed her with but she’d never been daring enough to try for herself.
With a groan that rumbled through his chest, Mal slid an arm around her waist, hugging her so tight her breath caught. With his other hand, he grasped the back of her head and held her as he strained beneath her to kiss her more thoroughly. His body was rock hard. Muscular angles and planes pressed against her breasts and belly. Curious, she traced her palms over his chest and down his ribs, reveling in the power of him and the furious beat of his heart.
Knowing she possessed his heart and carried his love emboldened her.
Down farther still…
With an animalistic growl, Mal rolled until she was beneath him. He broke their kiss and Georgiana stared up at him in awe. Her love. Panting, fierce.
“Yer maid isnae here to make me keep my distance, lass.”
“Why do you think I’m always sending her off?” she asked cheekily. “Jane is a romantic at heart with a beau of her own. She thinks a man and woman should be alone when they’re courting.”
“She dinnae ken what sort of thoughts I ha’ about ye.”
“No, but she knows the ones I have about you.” She took his hand and dragged it down to her breast.
“Och, lass, dinnae tempt
me.”
He didn’t withdraw his hand though, and she pressed it more firmly against her bosom with a wanton grin. “I like to tempt you.”
He shook his head, but his fingers flexed around her breast and kneaded gently. “Georgie, lass, whilst I try to be a gentleman, kindly remember I am merely a man.”
“Yes, and you’re my man now, aren’t you?” she whispered. “As I am your woman? Show me what that means.”
His kiss was hard, possessive. Georgiana knew the thrill of victory, though she wasn’t yet quite sure what she’d won.
Mal wasted no time in showing her. He stroked her body, bringing her alive in a way she’d never thought possible. With his hands and lips, he introduced her to the joys of lovemaking. Showed her the pleasure her body was capable of feeling. Atremble and gasping for breath, she thought there could be nothing sweeter than the pleasure of one body against another, until he came inside her with such tenderness. She wept for it, but soon cried for the rapture he shared with her.
Filled with bliss, she draped an arm over him while he tangled his leg through hers. Never had she been so close to another person in body or spirit. Resting her cheek on his broad, heaving chest, she listened as the wild pounding of his heart returned to normal.
A spring breeze swept over her partially bared body, reminding her of where they were and the reality of what they’d done. Nothing in her life would ever be normal again. Instead of feeling dismay, satisfaction warmed her.
“Jane would be appalled.”
She giggled. “Only in that I didn’t have a ring on my finger first. She says a man will not buy the cow when he can get the milk for free. Are you going to toss me to the side now that you’ve had your wicked way with me, my love?”
“Nay, lassie, I plan to have my wicked way with ye each night until I’m bald and paunchy and we turn up our toes.” He retrieved her green ribbon and brought it to his lips. “Ye’re mine now. For good.”
Georgiana was fine with that. “I love you.”
“And I love ye, my bonny Georgie.”
Once Again, My Laird Page 6
