by Lauren Smith
“Owen’s always wanted to visit Scotland. If you need me sooner, send word and we’ll come straightaway.”
With that reassurance, Rowena smiled and plucked at her gown. “I ought to change. We have a long drive ahead of us. Quinn has to make the drive himself.”
Milly tsked. “A smart man knows to hire a cab. It’s much more enjoyable to share a ride in the back and cuddle with one’s husband.”
“Cuddle? You?” Rowena couldn’t contain the plague of giggles that followed.
Milly promptly pinched her waist in retaliation but she was smiling.
“Yes, and you ought to try that with Lord Forres. He doesn’t look like a man who cuddles, but neither does Owen, and yet he’s wondrously splendid at it.” Pink stained Milly’s cheeks but she continued to grin as she followed Rowena to the door.
Rowena rushed upstairs to change and have a footman bring her travel valise down. The remaining trunks containing her wardrobe would be brought to Forres in a few days. Rowena selected a navy blue pleated skirt and a white blouse. Sensible and perfect for a long day in the car. She laced her black boots and left her bedroom. She paused in the doorway to look back at the room where she’d spent most of her life. A young woman’s bedroom.
No longer mine.
Now she was to have a new room, one she would share with her husband. She tried to let excitement fill her and bury the aching sadness at leaving her home behind.
I must look forward.
By the time she’d come back downstairs, she found Quinn had changed from his wedding suit to his own travel clothes. Her parents were waiting at the entrance along with her sister and Owen.
Rowena lifted her chin and met them all bravely. She would not cry, not on her first day as a married woman. Milly and Owen followed Quinn outside to the waiting car and left Rowena alone with her mother and father.
The Pepperwirths had always been a sensible family, but they loved deeply. Now she saw that love in the tears that coated her mother’s cheeks.
“You will write to me the moment you arrive at Forres. I want to hear all about your rooms and the estate. Make sure you go to the village and hire a lady’s maid immediately since your sister took Constance.” Her mother was doing her best to sound businesslike but Rowena heard the catch in her voice.
“Of course, Mama.” Rowena hugged her fiercely, shutting her eyes tight to stop any tears from falling. Her nose tingled as she tried to control her sadness.
When she faced her father, she choked back a little gasp. The heartbreak in his eyes was stark and shocking.
“Rowena.” He murmured her name and held out his arms. She rushed into his embrace and he kissed her forehead. “My darling girl, whatever will I do without you?”
Rowena chuckled, but she had to swallow hard before she could speak.
“You’ll miss me, as I will miss you, which is why you must come up to Forres for Christmas. You will, won’t you?”
“If it’s all right with Forres, then we will.”
“I’m sure he’ll be happy to have you.”
Her father’s gaze darkened with an unusual solemnity. “Rowena, I consented to this marriage because you love him, but…” He paused and Rowena felt her stomach twist into knots. “He’s a man who’s suffered a great and terrible loss in his life. A loss so deep it would break any man. I hope you will prepare yourself for what lies ahead.”
Rowena nodded. Quinn’s first wife, that’s what he meant.
Her father continued. “Do not live in her shadow. Trying to be an echo of his lost wife is not the way to win his heart. Be true to yourself; he will love you as we do.” Her father’s bright blue eyes, the ones she’d inherited from him, shimmered with tears as he hugged her again and walked outside to join the others. Her mother held Rowena back when she would have followed.
“What your father didn’t tell you was that a man’s heart can sometimes be won by an open, honest, and happy lover.” She gazed meaningfully at Rowena.
“What do you mean, Mama?” A flush crept along her skin. It was quite unexpected to have this sort of discussion with one’s mother, but the information had to be worth the embarrassment.
“Do not be afraid of passion. Open yourself up to it. There will be so much you will learn about what transpires between a man and his wife, but the more you love each other, the greater the reward. Embrace it and him and you’ll win his heart.”
Rowena had already tasted a hint of Quinn’s passion and had no intention of denying herself of it. Her mother walked with her outside, and with a few last hugs, she climbed into the motorcar beside Quinn and waved goodbye to the life that had once been hers.
Chapter 6
The drive to Edinburgh was a blur of hills capped with snow. Each time Quinn stopped in a small village for food, they had a chance to walk about. Rowena bundled up in her coat and muff and walked through the north English towns with him. The cobblestoned streets and the cheery pubs offered a taste of an idyllic life she’d rarely glimpsed at home. Before her debut, she’d never had the chance to go and explore the world, not like she had the chance to do now.
While they ventured down the little streets, they talked about their homes and memories of their childhoods. Her husband seemed to relax around her as they began to build an easy familiarity with each other, and Rowena’s heart was bursting with hope.
“Rowena, come back to the car. We’re not far from Edinburgh.” Quinn stood by the vehicle, the door open, one foot braced on the car’s interior. He looked incredibly dashing with the buttons of his long, thick coat undone to show the shirt he wore, and his dark hair tousled by the wintry air. It never ceased to amaze her that this man was all hers.
“Coming!” She rushed along the snowy walkway, skidding into him. He caught her in his arms and she laughed, brushing a kiss on his lips.
His eyes widened in surprise before he returned the kiss. Rowena melted into him, playing with his mouth as he’d taught her to do. The embrace and the kiss heated her, just as the warm fire in her bedroom at Pepperwirth Vale used to do on cold winter nights.
With a little sigh, he broke the kiss and patted the small of her back. “We need to get going before it’s too dark on the roads.” He brushed a lock of hair back from her face.
Quinn tucked Rowena into her seat and made his way to the driver’s side. As he settled in next to her, she pushed herself closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder, a delighted smile on her lips. It was silly, she knew, to feel quite happy in that moment of being with him when he did not love her yet, but she felt his heart was in reach. Rubbing her cheek against his shoulder, she yawned and tried to focus on the road. The wind blew the light snow in swirling gusts across the roadway, the headlamps illuminating the lovely dance of snow.
“Quinn, would you tell me about your family?” She knew so little of him and his life, yet she’d married him without truly knowing him.
“Well,” he chuckled. “My father passed nigh on six years ago. My mother shortly thereafter. She missed the old man, you see. Now ’tis only me and my sister, and wee Blair, of course.”
“Sister?” Rowena sat up, clutching his arm as she moved closer. Having another woman in the house, one she might grow close to like Milly, was wonderful. The thought sent a surge of joy through her.
“Yes, Kenna. She’s two years older than you. Quite a troublesome creature, and I mean that in the best way.” A grin softened the once-hard lines of his mouth. “She’s always laughing and chasing Blair about the house. You’ll like her.”
“She sounds lovely. Does she have a beau?” Rowena couldn’t imagine a happy, beautiful Scottish woman being unclaimed by a man.
“I suppose she does. Heaven knows she won’t tell me but”—Quinn paused and glanced at her long enough to wink—“I believe the doctor in our village frequently receives accidental run-ins with Kenna when she goes to town.”
“A doctor?” Rowena grinned cheekily. “Perhaps I ought to nudge them in the right direction
.” Meeting the doctor intrigued Rowena for two reasons: to see if she could help him and Kenna become closer and to see if she might help him in the village. She’d loved tending to animals and if there was any way she could help, she wanted to be useful.
Quinn laughed heartily. “If you like to play matchmaker, I’m sure Kenna would relish the help.”
“Oh, Quinn, I’m so happy you have a sister!” She almost confessed to him how empty she felt at leaving Milly behind in England. The Cotswolds and Pepperwirth Vale were so far away from Scotland.
“You and your sister are close?” he asked, glancing her way before focusing back on the road.
“Yes, Milly has always been there for me. I don’t know how I shall get on without her, but I suppose I must.” She would. She knew she would, but it didn’t ease the ache of missing her sister.
“You have me, and Kenna. And your sister is welcome to visit any time. I hope you know that.” His gentle tone, so confident and welcoming, warmed her even more.
“Thank you, Quinn. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” She squeezed his arm and placed her head back on his shoulder. Even though she felt comfortable with him now, there was a nervous tension building inside her as she realized they were getting closer and closer to their wedding night and all the things that would follow… Her heart skipped a beat. Would he continue to kiss her with fire and passion? Or would he be quick about it? The sudden worry struck her hard enough to leave her feeling a little sick to her stomach. She frowned and glanced toward the window.
“We aren’t far now. The inn we’re staying at is just down this road.”
They drove in silence for another half hour before the distant lights of Edinburgh appeared out of the night’s gloom. Quinn drove to a small stone inn at the edge of town and parked the motorcar outside the front door.
“Go on in and tell the innkeeper we are here. There will be a room for us. I’ll see to the car and luggage and be right behind you.”
Rowena exited the car and rushed to the door, desperate to escape the cold. The stout wooden door creaked as she slipped inside the inn. Four long tables filled the common room, and they were full of men, most of them eating supper. The laughter and talking died away as their gazes turned her way. Rowena, still just inside the door, clutched her coat tighter about her body, her heart racing. She wasn’t used to being alone in a room with so many men.
“’Ere now, how kin I ’elp ye?” A plump woman with a thick brogue and frazzled gray hair tucked under a white lace cap walked toward her, weaving through the tables, her apron spotted with flour and grease.
“My husband, Quinn MacCauley, said he rented a room?”
The men nearest her chuckled, roughly shoving each other with elbows and speaking Scots Gaelic, a language she recognized by the sound but not the words.
“Ignore them.” The woman smacked one of the men upside the head and then waved Rowena to follow her as she headed for a set of stairs. As she walked past the last table, someone pinched her bottom. Rowena grasped and stumbled. The renewed raucous sounds of laughter followed her up the stairs and she bit her lip, mortified and more frightened. The spot on her bottom actually stung…
The innkeeper paused at the first room at the top of the stairs.
“Here’s your room. The meals are served downstairs unless you wish to eat up here.” The woman hesitated before holding out the key. “I suggest you stay up here. The men downstairs can be”—she met Rowena’s gaze seriously—“a wee bit rough. Yes, you’d best stay up here.”
Rowena closed her fingers around the brass key and watched the older woman retreat down the stairs. Then she tried to unlock the door to her room, but her hands shook.
Quinn, where are you? She didn’t much fancy being so separated from Quinn, her bottom still stung, and she was uncomfortably aware of the noise from below—and her slim chances of being overheard should she need aid. The sound of footsteps on the stairs filled her with relief. Her husband had finally come in from the cold.
“Quinn, our room’s here.” She spun around and then gasped. A large, broad-chested man from downstairs lunged for her, a hungry glint in his eyes. There was nowhere for her to go. He slammed her against the wall, her head hitting the wood. Stars dotted her vision for a brief instant as pain exploded through her skull.
“Lovely English lassie,” the man growled in her ear as he struggled to pull her skirts up. “Just wot I need to warm me up on a cold night, eh?”
Rowena screamed and clawed at his face, but her fingers were still covered by her fine kid gloves. She sucked in air, panic swamping her senses until everything around her seem to fog with delirious terror. The scent of ale and sweat mixed with his fetid breath clouded her lungs. His hand covered her mouth. Without a moment’s hesitation, she bit down on his meaty hand, drawing blood.
“You little bit—”
A distant roar cut through the ringing in her ears. She glanced up to see Quinn racing toward her and the man towering above her.
“Touch my wife again and I’ll bloody kill you!” Those were the only words he spoke before he launched through the air, tackling the lout to the ground with a sickening crunch.
Rowena winced at the sounds of fists pummeling flesh and the grunts of pain from the man beneath Quinn. If he didn’t stop hitting that man…he could kill him.
“Quinn, stop!” she pleaded. “Please stop! Don’t kill him!” She grabbed Quinn by the shoulder, jerking hard on him. The blows stopped, and her husband, panting hard, glanced up at her, a snarl twisting his lips. Then, without saying anything, he got up, dragged the man to the top of the stairs by his legs, and kicked him over the lip of the stairs. The thumping sound of him rolling down the steps was strangely satisfying, and Rowena didn’t like that she took a small measure of comfort from the final thud when the beast of a man hit the floor at the bottom. Quinn’s shoulders relaxed and he turned back around to face her. When he approached her, he held his hands up as though he were approaching a wild, wounded creature.
“It’s all right, Rowena, do not be scared,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
“I’m not,” she replied, but her voice quivered.
Her entire body started to shake and suddenly she needed him, needed to be in his arms. She reached for him and he helped her to her feet. She didn’t care if he didn’t want to hold her; she clung to him, shaking, breathing so hard her lungs burned. When his arms circled around her, she melted into him and let go. She didn’t cry, but she knew tears were going to soak his coat if she couldn’t rally herself in a minute.
“I’m so sorry. I should not have left you alone. ’Tis my fault. Please forgive me.” He was murmuring these tender apologies in her ear, his warm breath making her shiver, and yet it soothed her too.
“May we please go into the room now? I believe I need to sit down.” She tugged on his arms in pleading.
“Of course.” He picked up the key from the ground, where she must have dropped it during the struggle, and helped her inside. The little room was cozy, with a bed large enough for two, a fireplace, and a small table for two with wingback chairs. Quinn helped her to the nearest chair and tucked her in with one of the blankets from the end of the bed.
“Wait here. I’ll lock the door behind me.” He bent, feathered a kiss upon her brow, and left their room. The click of the lock reassured her and she touched her aching cheek. A dull headache began to pound against her temples.
I’m not going to cry. She bit her lip and curled her arms around her waist, hugging herself to stop from shivering.
This was not her idea of a wonderful wedding night.
* * *
Quinn pounded down the inn’s stairs and found the innkeeper checking on the man he’d beaten.
“Is he alive?” he growled.
The old woman shrugged. “Seems to be. Got a thick skull this one. Wot happened?”
Quinn kicked the unconscious man’s foot.
“He attacked my wife. He’s lucky I�
�m not in a killing mood because it’s my wedding night. I want you to send for the magistrate. I intend to file a report against him and have this man taken into custody for assault. I’ll prepare a statement and bring it down for you later.” He walked over to the bar and reached for the most expensive bottle of Scotch he could find and held it up. “I’m taking this upstairs. Have a lad bring up our luggage and meals.”
“Of course. It will be on the house, my lord.” The woman nodded before glaring at the fallen man by the stairs.
Quinn stepped over the man and went back up to his room. He rapped his knuckles against the stout wood.
“Rowena, ’tis me.” He heard sounds on the other side and then the lock clicked and Rowena’s sweet face was peering up at him, fear still in her eyes. The sight of it made his blood boil. He should have been watching out for her the way he did Blair.
She stepped back as he entered and closed the door. “They’re bringing up our travel cases and supper.” He set the Scotch bottle down and reached for a pair of glasses from a table by the fireplace. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she watched him, and that youthful uncertainty tugged at his heart. This was not how she’d hoped her first night as a married woman would go. Poor lamb.
Quinn offered her a glass of Scotch and she took it, eyes wide. “Drink up. The Scotch will warm you while we wait for supper.”
“Thank you,” she murmured around the lip of the glass before she drank. She coughed and he patted her back.
“Second sip goes down smoother, I promise.” He smiled and she returned it, although hers was a little shy.
“I’m so sorry I’ve ruined our night.” She ducked her head, but Quinn curled a finger under her chin and lifted it. They were standing close and her sweet scent teased him.
“It is my duty to look after you. I’ve failed tonight and for that I’m so very sorry.” He leaned down, intending to kiss her forehead, but she reached up and caught the back of his neck with one hand, pulling his head down a few inches as she kissed him.
Petal-soft lips and a warm, exploring little tongue stroked at his mouth. He had missed this, the intimacy between a man and a woman. Rowena’s sweet, sensual exploration lit his body on fire and old hungers he’d repressed for the last year surged back to the surface. Quinn’s body tensed as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the floor, intending to carry her back to the bed.
