He pushed off the wall. He would request a private audience with Delia. Stone would grant it, considering what he needed to say. He’d decide what to do about his physical response to her after he’d secured her hand.
Stone’s study came into view. The door was open and Roderick could hear voices filtering from the doorway. Sunderland’s nasally whine could be easily distinguished from outside the door.
“I was not made aware that there would be other suitors.”
“Sunderland, it is one of the few times a lady has a choice. Frankly, Manchester was her intended, but Delia has resisted the match. You have the opportunity to be the usurper, if you choose to take it.”
“Woo her? I was under the impression that I would simply provide a match for a woman who was not getting a season. I was doing a service simply by travelling here.” His indignation was evident.
Roderick’s hand clenched into a fist while he fought the urge to bloody the man’s nose. Delia was the finest women in all of England and Scotland combined and this bounder expected to do no work whatsoever. She was a woman who deserved a man who would fight for her and for her affection. He unclenched his hand. Sunderland was a man who wanted to work for nothing and have everything handed to him. If Stone allowed Delia to marry that man, he might challenge Stone to a dual, or Sunderland, or both of them and win her hand by force. His own thoughts made him start with surprise.
Shaking his head, he tried to calm himself. It was unlike him to be so emotional. Sunderland stepped out and as he eyed the man with open hostility he heard himself growl. Low and deep. Sunderland started and then, cutting him a wide path, he moved down the hall.
“You sound like me.” Stone chuckled from the doorway.
“Tell me you will not let her marry him.”
“I would run myself through with a sword first.” Stone glared in the direction Sunderland had walked.
“I’ll run him through.” Roderick jabbed his hand the same way.
Stone slapped him on the back. “How’d it go with Delia?”
“Very well, but I grow more fearful of revealing my role in her rescue.”
“I do not envy your job there, but clearly you are far better suited than I,” Stone grumbled as he moved back into his office. “You have made far more progress with her in a short time than I have over the last several years. Truly, Reginald understood her better than any of us. He knew you would make a good match.”
“He knew me better than I knew myself.” Roderick tossed himself in a chair and rested his head on his hand. “I must do this correctly, I can not lose her now.”
“Eliza thinks that you love her.” Stone was quiet.
Roderick didn’t answer at first. It was strange to share his innermost feelings with these men, especially ones he hadn’t sorted out. He supposed he would have to get used to this type of intimacy. It was part of being a family. Reginald had been like a brother to him, and somehow it was natural that Reginald’s brothers would now fill the role of providing brotherly advice. “What I feel for Delia is unexpected and I’m not yet certain how to define it or...” He paused, pained to reveal the next part. “How welcome it is. I promised Reginald I would remain a gentleman.”
Stone slapped him on the back. “We’re men, there’s no need. Unless of course the women need you to. Then I would recommend labeling it posthaste. Women can get rather mulish if they think you’re withholding your feelings.”
Roderick shook his head. There had been more than one woman in his past who had considered herself in love with him and had been rather sore when he didn’t return the sentiment. “Understood.”
Stone gave him a grin. “Sunderland performed his role nicely.”
Roderick crossed his arms over his chest. “What role was that?”
“Well, he made you look like a fine catch. Didn’t even have to do anything, Sunderland did it all on his own.”
“I will have you know that I was winning Lady Delia over without Sunderland’s help.” Roderick feigned offense. “But, he did seem to move the process along. At some point I will thank him.”
“You had better not.” Stone grinned wider.
“I will need a few minutes alone with Delia, if I am to explain about the rescue.” Apprehension rose in his chest as the corners of his mouth turned down. “Mayhap I can join her in the kitchen again in the morning?”
Stone gave a nod of assent. “You have my permission, I trust you will be on your best behavior.”
“How could I possibly be anything but? You may consider clearing all the knives from the kitchen tonight, however. It’s Delia’s behavior that we should be worried about.”
Stone gave a hearty chuckle. “Removing the knives will surely tip her off. Besides, there are plenty more suitors to be found with coastal lands.” He knocked Roderick on the shoulder with his beefy fist.
For a small moment, Roderick was offended and then he realized that Stone was teasing him. It was a friendly gesture, one he rather liked. The banter of the Albans made him feel more at home than he had at any social engagement in London. “Perhaps you need me to thrash you on the training field again?” Roderick returned.
Stone threw back his head and laughed. “Perhaps I do. I don’t often find an equal training partner. Would do me some good.”
Roderick stood with a grin, it was much the same for him. Besides, if he wasn’t swinging a sword, he’d be pacing the floors. Now that the truth was upon him, he was damned nervous. “I’ll meet you in the yard in half an hour.”
“Done,” Stone boomed. “I’ll bring Matthew too. He’s slighter but quick.”
“I’d like that.” Roderick rose to prepare.
* * *
The sound of metal clanging against metal filled the castle for the better part of the afternoon. Delia was not at all surprised to see the men enter the salon before dinner looking worn out but pleased with themselves.
All but Lord Sunderland. He sat in a cravat of bright red, sipping cognac, and looking distastefully at the other men. She distinctly thought she heard him mutter, “Barbarians.”
Like much of their family customs, it was not normal for men of their station to spend so much time at sword play. Though Delia was certain many of them engaged in pugilistic contests, riding, and other manly pursuits. To her, Lord Sunderland seemed the one out of place. A man should be imposing and strong enough to protect the women he loved.
A flash of memory flitted through her mind. Sailing through the air into the arms of a waiting man. The feel of both of them careening toward the rail, only his strength keeping them from plummeting into the icy water. It was a much clearer memory than she had ever had and she found herself doused in cold sweat.
She looked up to see Roderick’s eyes intently upon her. He watched her always. Giving him a knowing look she moved to a secluded corner of the room and, just as she thought he would, he followed.
“Is something wrong?” he asked as soon as he reached her.
She shook her head but since he blocked the rest of the assembled party, she leaned her head on his chest. “I am fine, just a memory, that is all.” She tilted her head up and his was pointed down so that their lips were only a few small inches apart. What came over her, she didn’t know but she reached up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. “I am glad that you are here.”
“As am I.” His hand shot out to her waist to hold her firmly against him. “Try to slip out into the garden tonight if you can.”
“Dinner is served,” their butler called from the doorway. Delia stepped around him and scurried over to her family before anyone became suspicious. She glanced back to see Roderick’s smoldering gaze on her. With every touch, she came alive.
Though she would have liked to further explore her feelings for Roderick, Lord Sunderland had been seated next to her, a fact that Eliza would pay for later. Delia was forced to listen him drone on and on about his many decorating victories while Roderick sat across from her with his eyes dancing.
As the second course was served, and Sunderland had begun describing the unique shades of blue used to decorate his master bedroom, a hand grasped her ankle under the table. Giving a start, she looked up to see Roderick grinning. How he was able to manage the acrobatic feet, she had no idea, but his fingers danced up her skin, as shivers of excitement raced through her body ending in the sensitive nerves between her legs. She nearly gasped aloud when he gave her pantaloons-covered thigh a squeeze.
“Don’t you think so?” Lord Sunderland gave her a grin. She blinked twice. Once because Sunderland was actually looking at her and she could not understand his sudden interest, and the other because she had no idea what he might be talking about.
“I agree, Sunderland,” Roderick rumbled from the other side of the table. “That shade of grey blue is my absolute favorite. It reminds me of the color of Lady Delia’s eyes. The very first reason I ever wanted to marry her.”
Her eyes widened as she glanced quickly at Sunderland. His mouth hung open, perceivably because his conversation had been foiled, but Delia only saw it for a second before she swung her eyes to Roderick. “This is not the first time you have mentioned the list. And we met this morning and I did not get another item from its docket.”
His eyes danced with merriment as he responded, “Let me rectify the situation, then, my lady. The third reason is the swell of your hips and the roundness of—“
“Your Grace,” Sunderland stood up at the table. “I would not want to have to challenge you to a duel.”
Roderick gave her leg another squeeze. “Relax, Sunderland. I jest.”
Delia’s insides were turning to pudding, soft, warm, and sweet. She was melting into her chair as his hand continued his ministrations on her leg.
When the meal finally concluded, the men made to retire to the smoking room. Roderick breezed by her as they all exited and he whispered, “Meet me in the garden in a quarter hour.”
Hitching a breath, Delia pulsed with excitement. She remembered the feel of his lips on hers and anticipation filled her. “Perhaps,” she whispered back, cocking one eyebrow. He knew she was playing hard to get simply because it was their game.
He grinned back. “I am overwhelmed by your level of enthusiasm.”
“As you should be,” she bit her lip as she whispered with a giggle. Later she would worry about not allowing her feelings for him to grow. Her body ached to have his arms around her. Lord Sunderland had proven her brother’s point. She didn’t really want a fat, old earl, or even a young, silly one. Reginald’s face rose in her mind. Please tell me you wanted this for me. I am trying to be strong for your memory but I am less certain of what the correct path is.
She stepped into the ladies’ salon, where the women seated themselves in various places, chattering together. She watched the clock as she contemplated everything she had learned the past few days. Reginald had arranged this marriage because he thought Roderick was the man for her. Was Roderick correct that she owed it to her brother to be happy for them both? The clock chimed the quarter hour and Delia sprang up. “I fear I need a breath of air. Too much dinner, I think.” The words came out in a rush.
“You barely ate,” Bridget said, her eyes piercing into her.
“Oh, well, perhaps I am not feeling myself. This morning was so taxing. I’ll just take a little stroll…” She was backing toward the patio doors.
Eliza’s face flushed with guilt. “Just for a few moments,” her sister-in-law murmured.
Delia felt her own pang of guilt. Eliza had been trying to help her this morning, she shouldn’t use that against her, but Roderick’s embrace was healing her and she needed it now. “I’ll return posthaste.” And then she opened the door and softly closed it behind her as Bridget’s shrewd gaze followed her movements.
Delia hadn’t taken but two steps away from the door when she heard him. “Perhaps?”
Her hands came to her hips she opened her mouth to tell him what she thought of that when he reached for her hand and pulled her into the shadows and into his arms, bringing his lips down on hers. Then every word flew out of her head as his arms and his lips wrapped her in a cocoon of warmth.
Losing track of time, his lips came down on hers again and again until he slanted hers open and his tongue gently touched hers. A bolt of desire rocked her and she tentatively returned the touch, wanting more.
He groaned into her and then pulled away long enough to whisper, “Say you’ll be my wife.”
Her lips curved up as she pressed them to his again. “Perhaps.”
A low growl rumbled in his throat before his arms collected her against him, the onslaught of his mouth, fiercer, stronger, until she was breathless with wanting.
“Perhaps, I will leave you to Lord Sunderland’s kisses.” His mouth assaulted hers again until she moaned with wanting.
Her hand trailed down his neck, wanting to touch his skin. The collar of his shirt under his cravat stopped her touch and she gave it a frustrated tug. “Perhaps I should travel to London and join the ton for the rest of the season. I am sure many lords will want my company and my kisses—”
A jealous grumble emitted from his lips before they came down on hers again, his tongue dancing with hers until she was breathless without a thought in her head. When he finally lifted his head, his voice was low and predatory. “Only I will kiss these lips. I’ll rip those lords to pieces.”
A smile played at her mouth as she pressed even closer. His hand, which had been cradling her neck began moving down her collar bone and toward her chest. As his fingertips brushed the top of her breasts, she gasped again. “I want more,” she moaned softly, not thinking at all, just speaking.
He chuckled. “All in good time, love.”
Disappointment coursed through her, but was quickly replaced with desire as his lips touched the sensitive skin behind her ear. “You would deny me?”
“As you would me.” His lips trailed down her neck.
“Don’t be silly, you know Stone would never take me to London and certainly not to kiss other lords—“
“I mean, you won’t agree to be my wife. As it is, Stone would have my hide if he found us. I can give you no more unless under the sanctity of marriage.”
His lips were now moving down her chest and her breath came out in short gasps. “Where is my rogue?”
“Have I told you that I love your cheeky tongue? It keeps me on my toes. As I keep assuring you, your rogue is reformed. But you, my Lady Delia, are most difficult to tame.” His tongue began to swirl on the globes of her breasts where they were exposed by her dress.
She could barely think but she managed to push out, “I’m glad you like my brazenness. Not many people do.” She stopped when he nipped at her skin sending shivers of delight all through her. “Perhaps you should have tried this tact sooner, it seems to be working.”
Laughter rumbled from low in his chest. “Duly noted, my lady. And indeed, I shall try it again and again.” His tongue darted under the neckline, catching her nipple, and she tossed her head back, arching up to give him better access.
“Delia,” Eliza’s voice called sharply from the door.
“Drat,” she mumbled. Roderick made to lift his head but she twined her fingers into his hair. “Will I see you in the kitchen tomorrow morning?”
His mouth stopped. With a sigh, he answered, “Of course.” His arms loosened around her and his body moved away.
Somehow, her words had interrupted the moment more so than Eliza’s intrusion. With a nod, she stepped out of the shadow. “I’m here Eliza, just enjoying the night.” A nervous flutter rose in her stomach, what would their meeting in the morning bring?
Chapter Eight
Delia had tossed restlessly in bed most of the night and finally, after what seemed like hours, fell asleep. But even her sleep was plagued with dreams and finally, the one she dreaded more than any other began in her mind. She was powerless to stop it.
She was running toward the cliff, in her sleep
she screamed to stop, but her body refused to listen and then Delia was falling. The cliff, as always, caught her fall but, this time, the world did not go grey. With stark clarity, she looked up to see her brother’s prowling at the lip of the cliff.
Showers of rock rained down on her. They attempted to lower Matthew down to her, but the rock began to give. Then, she saw it. A ship approaching.
A man stood in its bow, his eyes trained on her. The set of his shoulders, the shape of his head held a familiarity, she had never seen before. He moved closer and Delia screamed for his help, but her words were ripped away by the wind.
He heard her anyway and he held his arms up to her. “Jump,” he mouthed. Their eyes met and Roderick’s green gaze came into sharp focus. As the ship passed them, he moved down it, effortlessly jumping the ropes and rigging, his arms aloft, his eyes never leaving hers. She was running out of time but she knew he would catch her, she knew she could trust Roderick with her life, her body, her soul, her love, and so she jumped, flying through the air until his arms clasped around her, reeling her in. Hard bands of muscle that kept her safe. Her eyes met his and for a brief moment, there was only them. She was not a girl in this dream, but herself, a woman. Suddenly she heard the cliff give and she knew the moment Reginald left her had come. But as she turned to catch the last moment of her brother’s life, Reginald was there next to her.
“Delia,” his hand came to her back and Roderick’s too. “Let Roderick take care you. Please, for me.”
A tumble of questions came to her mind but then he was gone.
She awoke with a start, tears streaming down her face. It couldn’t have been Roderick. Could it? But all at once, jumbles of details fell into place. Reginald had invited Roderick to meet her and begin arrangements for their engagement. Roderick’s insistence that he had something else he needed to tell her. His distance when she asked about the meeting. Stone’s assurance she would meet the man who saved her.
All along, it had been him.
Climbing out of bed, she threw open her door and raced down the hall. Passing by the main staircase, she was fortunate no one was awake yet, because there was only one person she needed to see.
The Duke’s Scottish Lass_Brethren of Stone Page 6
