The Heir

by Lindsey, Johanna

  Well, they really hadn’t been friendly kisses. But then making love to her hadn’t been a friendly type of thing to do either. But—and this was what she had overlooked—that was in her opinion, a woman’s opinion. Men must obviously view it quite differently.

  She was doing it again, analyzing, dissecting, driving herself deeper and deeper into morose-ness, when the facts simply weren’t going to change. She left her bed. She paced some. She stopped by the window, opened the drapery, but the moon was hiding, giving her nothing much to look at outside. Perhaps a long walk—no, then she’d have to dress again, leave her aunts a note ...

  She moved to the fireplace, which was keeping the room pleasantly warm. She should put it out, turn off the lamps, too. Of course, a completely dark room hadn’t helped last night. A warm glass of milk then. At this point she’d try anything to get some sleep so she could stop thinking.

  She fetched her robe and went down to the kitchen, but shortly thereafter she was dragging her feet as she returned to her room. The milk hadn’t made her drowsy. She was still wideawake, and even more so when she opened her door and found Duncan sitting on her bed.

  She doubted her sight, of course. Her imagination had brought him there, had even removed his coat for him, because she knew how indoor heat tended to bother him rather quickly. Just wishfulness. He wasn’t real.

  “Since it was already late t’day afore I felt fit enough tae come,” Duncan told her, “I decided tae make sure it was late enough that there’d be nae aunts peeking through windows this time. O‘ course, I hadna quite figured oout how tae get tae you wi’oout waking the whole house, until you appeared at the window.”

  It was the brogue, which she knew she couldn’t duplicate with any degree of accuracy, that convinced her he wasn’t just a trick of her mind, that he was really there. “You came through the window?”

  “Aye, and had a devil’s time reaching it. That tree oout there didna want tae cooperate. I think I broke a few o‘ its limbs.”

  He looked contrite. She was still too amazed at his presence to think straight.

  “But—why?”

  He left the bed, approached her, closed the door behind her that she’d been too startled to realize she was still holding open. She moved away from him, over to the fire, starting to feel. . . agitated. That didn’t deter him; he followed again, took her hand so she wouldn’t move off a second time.

  “I’ve come here willing tae make a fool o‘ m’self if I’m wrong, but I have tae be telling you, Brina, that what I feel for you is nae longer just friendship.”

  She groaned inwardly, knowing full well she wasn’t going to be able to survive with any degree of composure if he was going to try to convince her that he loved her, when she knew he was just deceiving himself. Archibald’s warning hadn’t just been heard and filed away for vague reference, it had repeated itself in her mind countless times, had been drilled home into her heart.

  He wants ye near tae hand is all. He showed how far he’s willing tae go tae hae ye near, by bringing ye tae the gathering, e’en though it brought Ophelia as well. He’d move ye intae Summers Glade if it werena inappropriate. I’m thinking he’d marry ye just tae get ye there permanently. He values yer friendship that much. But it is only that. Dinna let him fool ye intae thinking there’s more tae his feelings. Ye'd both sorely regret it if ye do.

  She tried to hold those words up as a shield now when Duncan continued, “Archie admitted tae me what he told you, but he was wrong—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “I’ve hated him for telling me, but he was right, we—”

  “Be quiet and let me finish,” he admonished gently. “I dinna mean his intentions. Those were fine and noble. I mean he was wrong in what he thought. I did indeed tell him a while back that we were only friends, and it was the truth at the time. I felt a closeness tae you that I’ve ne’er experienced afore wi‘ any other, and truthfully, lass, I didna think o’ you any other way until Archie tried tae convince me that men and women canna be friends, that sex will get in the way o‘ it. Dinna be blushing now. There’s nae polite way tae explain this. It was after he had that talk wi’ me that I started seeing you as more’n just a friend, as the bonny lass you are. You can blame Archie if you like, but I’m no‘ blaming anyone for what I feel for you now. It’s no’ what it was, lass.”

  This was more painful than she could possibly have imagined it would be, because she wanted to believe him so much—but couldn’t. Archie had been right, Duncan just wanted her near to hand, and this was the only way he thought he could accomplish it. And he’d just said it himself, that he’d felt a closeness to her that he’d never experienced before. She was his best friend, but because she was a woman, he was trying to call it something else.

  She turned away from him to face the fire. “It is what it was,” she said sadly. “You’ve just come to realize that I’m not as accessible as you’d like, that you can’t visit me anytime you want, that you can’t wake me in the middle of the night to share your thoughts, that you—”

  His chuckle cut off her words, and her gasp as well, as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. “And what is this, if no‘ the middle o’ the night?”

  “You know what I meant. You can’t be climbing trees every night. And you’d have the neighbors gossiping about us if you tried to see me as often as you want. But then you know that, which is why—”

  His arms squeezed her to silence this time. “You’re a stubborn lass, so I’m going tae speak plainly. Every time I see you now, I want tae drag you into my arms and make love tae you. D’you really think that that has anything tae do wi‘ friendship? I’m fighting wi’ m’self right now no‘ tae kiss you. Brina, I love the fact that we were friends first, and I love thinking that we always will be, but I have tae be more’n that tae you now. I want tae be your lover, your protector, your provider, and your friend, but I canna be all o’ that unless you’ll marry me.”

  “You’re killing me,” she choked out.

  He swung her around. “Look at me! Do I look like a man who doesna know his own mind? And if you tell me nae, I swear I’ll cart you off tae the Highlands and live wi‘ you in sin. After nine or ten bairns, then you can tell me I dinna love you like I know I do.”

  “I meant I couldn’t breathe.”

  “Oh,” he said, but he caught the twinkle in her lavender eyes and laughed as he drew her back into his arms. “You believe me now.”

  He wasn’t asking, nor did she need to confirm it, though she did say, “Any man who would want that many babies from me must love me.”

  “It hurts how much, lass.”

  She cupped his face in her hands, leaned up to kiss him softly. “No, it only hurts when you can’t share it. We’re going to share it now, Duncan.”

  “Then I hope you’ll be understanding that I canna fight this any longer.”

  “This” was kissing her, and no soft pecks for him. His mouth took hers voraciously, the culmination of untold frustrations, the release of the hopelessness they’d both experienced too much of. Passion exploded between them instantly, but it was mixed with so much joy and relief, it was more a unique emotion, theirs alone, theirs to share.

  Sabrina wanted to laugh in her happiness, but didn’t want to stop kissing him long enough to do so. He must have felt the same, for his lips formed an uncontainable smile even as they seared hers.

  They dropped to their knees together on the rug before the fire, still kissing, hands still grasping. The bed, only steps away, was too far for the kind of urgency upon them. Undressing, even, wouldn’t part their lips. Not surprisingly, a few buttons went flying along with their clothes, into different parts of the room.

  The heat from the fireplace, the heat from their bare skin, the soft fur on the rug in sensual contrast, all were conducive to quick repletion, yet Duncan still delayed. The first time they had made love had been in utter darkness. There was ample light now, and he wouldn’t have been normal if he didn’t want to fea
st with his eyes, as well as his hands and mouth, on the woman he loved.

  “I’m glad this beauty has been so well hidden, lass. Had other men possibly guessed, they would’ve been lining up wi‘ proposals.”

  She blushed, yet it was a most pleasant embarrassment. She had always thought herself a bit too plump, even if in the right places, but his eyes told her he found her luscious curves rather perfect. His hands did as well, kneading, caressing, gripping when the passion flared to near unbearable heights, soothing as he tried to prolong the exquisite moment. All the while his mouth ravished, sucking at her breasts, her lips, her neck, her earlobes.

  They were both still on their knees, so it was a surprise when her own left the floor as he grasped her hips and dragged her up against his hardness, a surprise and sensual delight. But that wasn’t his only intent, she found, as one at a time he wrapped her legs around his hips, and she realized in amazement that he was going to make love to her like that as he slowly entered her.

  She held on to him tightly with her arms and legs, though it wasn’t necessary, he had complete control of her weight, holding her to him, his hands gripping her cheeks and directing her own movements. He controlled the pace as well, and the depth, slow, hard, yet not deep enough, teasing. Not until he knew she was about to climax did he impale her fully, so deeply it wrenched a scream of pleasure from her that thankfully was muffled by his mouth.

  She was smiling, afterward, when he finally lay down on the rug and gathered her close. “I didn’t exactly mean that kind of sharing, you know.”

  He chuckled. “I know.”

  His hands were still caressing her softly, possessively. She still wasn’t the least bit tired, but was now glad of that. She would be most happy, in fact, to snuggle there with him all night.

  After a moment more, though, she sniffed the air and said, “You might want to remove your shoes from the fireplace, especially if you’re still wearing them.”

  His first reaction was to burst out laughing, and he did. Her remark, out of the blue and so casually spoken, was just too bizarre. But then he also smelled what she did, leather burning, and sat up immediately.

  “I’m no‘ wearing them, but I suppose I will need them tae get home.” He made a sour face as he rescued the smoldering shoe that had managed to fall too close to the fire. “We’ll be married t’morrow, so I can be removing m’shoes properly for bed. Neville has a special license for it, so there’s nae reason tae delay.”

  “No,” she said.

  “No?” he roared, and pounced on her, pinning her flat on the rug, thinking he had more convincing to do.

  “No,” she repeated, smiling up at him. “We’re going to let my aunts arrange this wedding. They’ve planned it for years and years. I’m not going to deny them their day, and lording it over their friends, what a fine catch I made.”

  “Oh,” he replied, contrite, but then, “How long will this arranging take?”

  “Two or three weeks at the very least.”

  He groaned. “Could we no‘ sneak off tae Gretna Green for a quick wedding, then come back and have another?”

  “No, that wouldn’t be the same, but I’ll arrange for some roof work to be done on the house.”

  “Och, I’m afraid tae question that, but what the devil do roofs have tae do wi‘ weddings?”

  “Not much, but it will leave a ladder handy outside my window until we actually do get married.”

  He gave her a very beautiful smile. “You’ll be protecting m’shoes then?”

  “Oh, absolutely. I might even keep my room quite chilly, just for you.”

  He chuckled. “You’re joking, but you’ll ne’er need a fire when I’m around, lass, I promise you.”

  “I wasn’t joking,” she corrected him. “I was counting on you keeping me warm.”

  Chapter Fifty-five

  The next weeks dragged by slowly for Duncan, though they weren’t unpleasant since he spent many of the days with Sabrina. It was simply his impatience to have her for his wife before something went wrong again to prevent it. Not an unreasonable worry, and nothing at all to do with his lady.

  She had assured him that she loved him, even that she had realized it much sooner than he did, and he had no doubts there, just his own amazement that he’d been blind not to see it sooner. They had just had so many obstacles thrown in their path that he wouldn’t be able to relax fully until the wedding was an accomplished fact.

  It was amusing, though, sitting back and watching the bickering that went on between her aunts and his grandfathers, who each had his or her own ideas on how this grand wedding was to proceed. And it was particularly amusing that the aunts won out in the end on every single disagreement—accept those the two ladies had with each other.

  The wedding ceremony was going to take place in Summers Glade, because it really was the only place in the area big enough to accommodate the guest list, which included the entire village of Oxbow. Neville nearly collapsed, for real this time, when he heard that every one of the neighbors he’d managed quite nicely to ignore all these years was going to be invading his house.

  He had protested long and loud, but with Archie feeling “the more the merrier” and so not supporting him in this, Neville was quite outnumbered. He might have turned his house over for the ceremony, but that was about the extent of his say-so in anything else having to do with the wedding.

  He had continued to grumble about it, until Sabrina told him, “Look at it this way. They might have excluded you from the guest list, considering you haven’t been on the best of terms with them for a good many years.”

  “From my own house?” he’d said incredulously.

  “Certainly. You don’t think a minor detail like that would stop my aunts, do you?”

  Amazingly, he’d burst out laughing and replied, “I’m almost sorry I missed the fight.”

  Sabrina had blinked at him and then laughed as well. And to Duncan’s chagrin, they had been quite chummy ever since.

  Archie, still feeling bad about his interference which had been such a blunder, had been profuse in his apologies to Sabrina, but in her typical way, she had put him completely at ease with just a few words, and now they were quite chummy as well. In fact, if Duncan didn’t manage to actually drag her away for a little time to themselves, both his grandfathers were pretty much monopolizing her when she came to visit Summers Glade with her aunts.

  But Duncan’s wedding day did finally arrive, and unlike the last one, which he had dreaded to his depths, this one he couldn’t have been more eager for. Raphael returned for it and in his annoying fashion did his fair share of teasing and insisting that he’d known all along which leg shackles Duncan would prefer.

  Duncan took it all in good spirits. He didn’t think anything could possibly annoy him today, he was so happy. And then something did ...

  He was in his room dressing for the wedding, or to be more precise, allowing his valet to dress him this once, to the little man’s delight. Archie was there as well to keep him company, or as he’d put it, to distract him from getting the usual wedding-day jitters. Not that Duncan was the least bit nervous, and he assured Archie of that.

  Impatience was all he was still feeling, and it had increased abundantly because he hadn’t climbed the ladder to Sabrina’s room these last four nights. Not that he hadn’t wanted to, but she had stayed up late each of those nights with her aunts, going over all the last-minute details of the wedding, and he hadn’t wanted to exhaust her by keeping her up even later. But it hadn’t been easy, staying away, and now he sincerely hoped he could be patient enough not to drag her off to his room immediately following the ceremony.

  And then Neville arrived.

  The old man’s attitude had been much changed since Duncan had announced he was marrying Sabrina. Aside from a few grumbles that he’d have to be putting up with Alice and Hilary Lambert now on a regular basis, he seemed genuinely happy for Duncan. And Duncan’s attitude toward him had also undergone
a change— at least on the surface.

  He wasn’t as stiffly formal or cold when in Neville’s presence now, though that was entirely Sabrina’s doing. Duncan simply had no room for anger in his heart anymore, when she filled his heart with such joy. It didn’t mean that he had forgiven Neville for ignoring him for most of his life, just that he wasn’t going to let his bitterness over it interfere with his present happiness.

  Neville didn’t stay long, had merely come by to warn that the hour was approaching, as if Duncan hadn’t been watching the clock diligently, and to offer a few words of wisdom. Now, whether he was joking or not was undetermined, since he said it with a straight face.

  “My advice to you is what my own father told me when I married your grandmother. Love your wife, but don’t let her lead you around by her little finger. But if she does anyway, make sure you enjoy it.”

  Archie laughed. Duncan grinned despite himself. But after Neville left, his expression must have reflected a bit of what he still felt toward that particular grandfather, at least enough for Archie to notice and remark on.

  “I’ve come tae like that auld bastard, now I’ve seen for m’self that he means tae do right by ye. Dinna be telling him that, ye ken?” Archie said. “But I’m thinking ‘tis time I told ye a thing or tae that yer no’ aware o‘.”

  Which was where Duncan got annoyed. “Now o‘ all days is no’ the time tae be talking aboot Neville.”

  “Nae, I’m thinking there’s nae better time, lad, or am I wrong that ye’ve no‘ accepted him yet as close kin? And he is that, as close tae ye as I am.”

  “Aye, but wi‘ a huge difference, Archie. You were there for me my whole life, there tae advise, tae cuff me when I needed it, tae teach, tae—”