Hiking her skirts, she untied the string that held the shorts up and felt around for the patch she wore on one hip. To her horror, it wasn’t there. She tried the other side, but it didn’t magically appear. "Oh God!"
"What?"
Chloe felt the blood rush from her face as she glanced up at Sean. "My patch! It’s gone!"
Sean frowned. "What patch?"
"My birth control patch!" she yelled at him. "I thought I was safe … for the rest of the week anyway! Oh God! This is terrible! I can’t get pregnant! This can’t be happening! It’s a nightmare!"
"Ya canna bear a child?"
Chloe glanced at him distractedly. "What?"
"Are ya barren then?"
"Barren?" she repeated blankly.
Sean heaved an impatient breath. "Ya said ya could na be pregnant."
She stared at him a moment while his words sank in. "That’s the problem! I could. I thought I couldn’t. I damn sure wouldn’t have been having sex if I’d thought I could get pregnant! I’m too young to be a mother. I haven’t even got my degree yet!"
Sean looked her over. "Ya look a woman full grown ta me. How old are ya then, lass?"
"Twenty three," Chloe said distractedly.
"Twenty three! Ya canna be so old as that!"
Chloe glared at him. "What do you mean, old?"
"Ya dinna look a day above sixteen."
Chloe narrowed her eyes at him, but, oddly enough, he seemed sincere. "Thanks, but I’m a lot of days over sixteen. I was born in ’81."
He stared at her, obviously calculating it in his head. "Ya might read, but ya canna count, lass. If ya’d been born in fourteen and eighty one, ya’d be nigh twice my age."
Chloe pursed her lips. "Nineteen eight one. It’s two thousand four now. That makes me twenty three … twenty four on my birthday, which, unfortunately, is only a few months off."
"Yer nae back ta that now, are ya?"
Rolling her eyes, Chloe hunched a shoulder and put her back to him, tying the strings that held up the shorts in jerky movements. "I never left it," she muttered. "Anyway, you’re the one that keeps bringing it up. Think whatever you like. I don’t care.
"I’ve got to get back. I might be able to stand some of this, but I’m either going to have to become a … a nun … or something like that, or I’ve got to go back."
Ignoring Sean, who was rummaging around in his trunk for something to put on, she began pacing, trying to think what might be the best thing to do.
Obviously Sean was never going to believe her no matter what she told him, and even if he did, he wasn’t going to either take her back, or let her go back on her own. She didn’t really want to go with that man, Monroe, though, especially if it meant he was going to take her back and try to marry her off to some man she didn’t even know.
Besides, from what she could see he was as hard headed as Sean was.
She might be able to talk him into taking her to the fairy ring, but she doubted it.
"I suppose this is what ya used ta escape?"
Chloe glanced at him distractedly and finally nodded.
"Its nae fit ta wear now."
"You wear it?"
Sean gave her a frowning look. "It’s a corset. I would nae wear such a thing. You are supposed ta. It’s ta make yer form more womanly."
Chloe glared at him. "My form is womanly enough, thank you."
"It’s ta make yer waist tiny."
She gave him a look. "I thought it must be something like that. No thanks. It’s torture enough having to drag this around," she said, shaking the folds of cloth she was clutching at him. "I can hardly walk for all this … this cloth! And trying to do anything else is a real challenge. I don’t know how the women here can stand it."
She didn’t realize Sean had crossed the room until she bumped into him. "I dinna mind what ya was wearin’ when I found ya."
She threw him an irritated glance, but the twinkle in his eyes and the half smile on his lips completely disarmed her. She felt an answering smile curl her lips before she thought better of it. "I wasn’t wearing anything," she pointed out.
"Aye, an’ a more beautiful sight I’ve yet ta see."
She chuckled. "Men are always saying things like that. All it really means is that they’re horny. Not that you should be."
His smile vanished. "Ya’ve had many lovers, then?"
Chloe looked at him in dismay, cursing her impulsive tongue. "Don’t start that again. It’s no more your business what I did before I met you than it is mine what you did before you met me. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. I don’t have my birth control and I’m not taking anymore chances.
"You’ve got some nerve complaining anyway! You’re hell bent and determined to give me to that Monroe guy and all he’s going to do is take me off and marry me to that Kincaid guy … who’ll probably be totally pissed off because I slept with you before him."
He placed his hands on her shoulders. "What would ya have me do, lass? Yer kin will have ya back one way or another, no matter what yer wishes … or mine for tha’ matter. I’ve nae the strength of arms ta challenge the Monroe, or I’d nae have been tryin’ to ally myself with the Kincaid ta start with."
Chloe frowned. "If it’s true that Kincaid was trying to ally himself by marrying Chloe Monroe, don’t you think it must have been the Kincaids that attacked the Fraziers? Maybe that was the only reason they agreed to meet in the first place, to kill you to get in good with Monroe."
Sean ran his hands down her arms and up once more, pulling her closely against him. "I think it’s more than likely, lass, but tha’ does nae explain why my men were there ta start with."
He bent his head to kiss her but Chloe evaded him, turning her face away. Not to be thwarted, he kissed her neck instead. The heat of his mouth sent a dizzying rush of heat through her. "Maybe they just didn’t trust the Kincaids? Or maybe they’d heard something and went to warn you?"
"Mayhap. An’ mayhap we’ll never ken the why of it. I must admit I’m nae greatly interested in the moment."
Chloe put a hand to his chest. "Sean … I don’t have a patch! I’d like to, but I can’t."
"Ya dinna have a patch none of the time," he growled, nipping at her earlobe and then sucking it.
"I thought I did, though. Now I know I don’t."
He caught her chin, covering her mouth with his own. Chloe made a sound of protest, but she lost all sense of self-preservation the moment she felt his tongue skate across her own possessively. An instant rush of desire consumed her, drove all thought from her mind as sensation overwhelmed her. Slipping her hands around his waist, she held tightly to him, kissing him back with complete abandon. He groaned, gasping as she entwined her tongue with his, stroked him, suckled him.
He hauled her up against him, lifting her off her feet and moving toward the bed. Satisfaction filled her as she felt her back against the mattress and his weight settling on top of her. She caressed his shoulders and back, enthralled by the feel of his body.
His hands moved restlessly over her, caressing her through the gown she wore, frustrating her. She wanted to feel her flesh pressed against his, with no barrier between them.
The gown was a torturous prison, thwarting both their desires. Rolling until they lay on their sides, Sean wrestled with the lacing, succeeded only in thoroughly tangling the ribbons and finally grasped it in both hands and broke it, tugging the gown off her shoulders and halfway down her arms where it bound her arms to her sides as surely as if she’d been bound by ropes. She forgot her frustrations as his mouth settled on one tautly erect peak. The heat and suction of his mouth and tongue sent heat blossoming outward from the source. Moaning, she struggled to free her arms so that she could hold him to her, but found that she could only clutch at his waist as he drove her wild with his mouth, teasing first one nipple and then the other. She was near to weeping with both frustration and desire by the time he ceased to tease her and moved downward.
She clutched at his shoul
ders as the heat of his mouth penetrated the fabric over her belly. "Now, Sean," she gasped. "Now!"
He lifted his head, looking up at her for a long moment. Finally, he moved up once more, kissing her as he slipped a hand down to cup her through the gown. She moaned impatiently, trying to thrust the weighty fabric of the skirt aside, thrashing. He caught the fabric and dragged it upwards until at last she felt the cool air of the room drifting across her calves and then her thighs.
Catching his hand, she guided him toward the opening in the undergarment. She gasped when his fingers touched her heated flesh. Parting her thighs, she lifted upward to meet him as his finger at last found her clit and massaged it, sending wonderful waves of purest ecstasy through her. Blindly, she sought his erection. He groaned, breaking the kiss when her fingers found him, encircled him.
Brushing her hand aside, he caught his member and guided it to her opening, watching her face as he slowly entered her. She gasped, arching up to meet him and he buried his face against her neck, thrusting deeply. She dug her fingers into his flesh, countering the thrust, needing to feel his flesh melding with her own.
Lifting slightly away from her, he struggled to set a rhythm that would assuage both their needs, moving in long, slow strokes at first, and then more deeply and faster, then slowing once more. Chloe dug her heels into the bed and sought her own rhythm, feeling her crisis coming closer with each intimate caress of his body, writhing beneath him as if she were seized by a raging fever, feeling as if she was consumed by one as her flesh heated like tinder awaiting only a spark to ignite her completely.
It swept over and through her like a firestorm, abrupt, as unexpected as a single incautious step and she cried out with the intensity of it. Her culmination spawned his, for, even as she felt the convulsive flutter of release, she heard his cry of repletion, felt his body shuddering against hers.
It sapped every ounce of strength from her. The muscles in her arms and thighs quivering with weakness, she gave up the effort to control them and simply melted against the bed, struggling to catch her breath. Sean, obviously in no better condition, collapsed on top of her, making it almost impossible to drag in a decent breath of air.
She found she didn’t care, drifting dreamily away from the real world.
The clang of a pail woke her. Chloe frowned, wondering why she’d identified the sound as a pail. Why would it be a pail? What would anyone be doing with a pail of all things?
With an effort, she pried one eyelid open and peered toward the sound.
Complete disorientation flooded her for several moments and she merely stared at the woman across the room. Finally, she allowed her head to drop back against the pillow, wondering why she’d thought she was home, in her own time and her own place.
Slowly, she began to remember the night before, and she felt around the bed.
Sean was gone.
No need to worry about what to say the morning after with Sean!
She frowned. She distinctly remembered telling him sex was out since she’d discovered she’d lost her damn patch.
Groaning, she sat up. Maggie was still busy scooping up buckets full of water, moving to the window and pouring them out. She was tempted to tell her to refill it as soon as she’d finished emptying it, but she had a feeling Maggie would balk. She lay back down, deciding she’d wait until Maggie left before she got up and mopped off in the damn wash basin again … assuming there was water in the ewer.
When the sounds finally ceased and the door closed shortly behind that, Chloe threw the covers off and scooted to the edge of the bed, dropping her head into her hands. She was a complete fool when it came to Sean Frazier. Knowing his plans for her should have been enough to cool her … blood.
Shrugging it off, she got out of bed and washed. The gown she’d slept in looked even worse than it had when she’d dragged it out of the bundle. Sean had broken the ribbon that laced down the back. Sighing irritably, she tugged the gown off and tossed it aside then went to the trunk to retrieve the other gown her ‘uncle’ had brought. He’d probably be back today. She had to decide what to do when he did come back, had to think of something that might convince him to take her to the fairy ring.
Nothing immediately presented itself, and she concentrated on trying to make herself presentable. Having a comb helped. Her hair was ratted from rolling around on the bed with Sean. She was still working on the tangles when Maggie returned.
Maggie took one look at her and frowned. "Yer nae goin’ out like that?"
Chloe looked at her in surprise. "What’s wrong with it?"
"Ye’ve nae a stitch of underclothes beneath it, tha’s what. Ya look a sight more like a trollop than a lady."
Chloe glared at her. "I don’t want to wear all that! I’m suffocating now!"
"Yer nae leavin’ tha room till yer dressed proper!" Maggie said militantly.
Chloe eyed her speculatively for several moments and finally capitulated. "Fine! I haven’t got the faintest idea of how to put them on though."
When Maggie was finished with her, she felt like a turkey trussed for baking. She could barely breathe for the damned corset, and the weight of all the underskirts were enough to have her hassling for breath before she was halfway to the door. "I’ll pass out in all this!" she complained.
"Yer nae supposed ta gallop around like a man noways! Walk slow, breathe shallow. Ye’ll nae faint."
"Easy for you to say," Chloe muttered, but she found that Maggie was right. As long as she didn’t try to move very quickly and kept her heart rate down, the black spots didn’t dance before her eyes.
"Yer father’ll be arrivin’ soon."
Chloe felt her belly tighten with anxiety. "Father?"
Maggie nodded. "I was sent to fetch ya down."
She managed to make it halfway down the stairs before she had to stop and catch her breath.
Maggie eyed her warily. "This’d nae be a good place ta faint."
"Don’t spare me," Chloe said dryly, encouraged by Maggie’s comment to try to make it the rest of the way down before she passed out and rolled to the bottom. "Just tell it like it is."
She paused again when she reached the bottom, bracing herself, and finally moved into the great room. There were two distinct camps faced off within the great hall. She recognized one of the men wearing the Monroe plaid as the one who’d claimed to be her uncle. The man next to him was somewhat older, but there was a strong resemblance between the two. She was certain it must be Chloe’s father.
Swallowing her nervousness with an effort, she started toward the two groups. One by one the men ceased talking and looked toward her. It was the expression on Sean’s face that halted her, however, or rather the complete lack of expression.
Why was he looking at her like that, she wondered?
After a moment, when she realized the Fraziers around Sean had begun to shift uneasily, she surged forward once more.
"Yer well, lass?"
Chloe glanced toward the man who’d spoken. "Yes?" she said a little doubtfully.
"Do ya nae ken me?"
Chloe blinked. "Father?" she guessed, deciding she must have been wrong about the other man being the ‘uncle’s’ brother.
He frowned, exchanged glances with the other men. "Nay, lass. I’m yer uncle, Shamus," he said slowly.
Oops!
"I dinna credit it when Brett told me ye’d no notion who he was, but ya dinna ken any of us, do ya, lass?"
Chloe looked at the second man who spoke, the one she’d first thought must be Lord Monroe, Chloe’s father, but she wasn’t about to guess again. She glanced at Sean, but he was studying the rafters overhead. "I’m sure it’ll come back to me."
The man--she decided he must be Lord Monroe--glanced at a man standing somewhat behind the others. "What’re yer thoughts on this, Kincaid?"
Chloe felt a little faint when the man pushed his way to the front and looked her over. It would’ve been a kindness, she thought, to call him a toad … and an ins
ult to the toad! No wonder Chloe had headed for the hills!
It was all very well to talk about being shallow only to consider appearances when a person wasn’t facing the prospect of being forced to marry a man they found utterly repulsive. It was another thing entirely to be so altruistic when one was faced with just that.
If he was a day under fifty, she was a giraffe!
Aside from that, he looked evil.
He was, now that she thought about. His attempt to trick Sean into an ambush couldn’t be considered anything else.
He’d probably bribed Sean’s men to help him in his nasty scheme, for that matter.
"She does na seem ta have lost her wits, just her memory. I’ve nae objections."
Chloe licked fear dried lips and looked at the man she thought must be Lord Monroe. "I do."
He glared at her. "Dinna say another word, lass. I told ya I’d given my consent ta his proposal. Yer far too wild fer yer own good. Ya need a man with patience fer such nonsense."
Swallowing with an effort, Chloe said the first thing that came to mind that seemed certain to divert him. "But … but … I can’t!" She pointed at Sean. "He … I mean we … I could be carrying his child even now!"
For several moments, she thought the man might have a heart attack on the spot. His face turned so red with rage, it looked like the blood vessels might pop. "Yer claimin’ the Frazier’s despoiled ya?"
Chloe dared a glance at Sean, saw that he was looking at her with a mixture of horror and outrage and quickly looked away again. "He did."
Monroe turned a look of rage on Sean. "An’ what have ya ta say fer yerself? Ya swore to me tha lass was na harmed."
Sean’s eyes narrowed. "An’ she is na!" he growled.
"Nay but ya plowed her furrows right well, plantin’ yer bastard seed!" Monroe roared.
Sean slid a glance at Chloe that promised retribution, but he neither admitted nor denied the accusation.
"Ye’ll marry tha lass!" Monroe growled.
"No! I mean … I can’t marry him! He’s the one that got me in this situation in the first place! I’ll have to go live in a convent or something like that."
The Fairy Ring Page 11
