"What?" He looked up to find Douglas Kirkland looking him over with a raised brow, while everyone else watched with amused expectance. Except Alex, who chewed her lip in discomfort.
"I asked how ye managed to escape being murdered by the duke."
His wife shrugged helplessly in his direction.
"The duke?" Collin felt his face darken.
"Well for God's sake, we're not so far in the wilds that we didn't hear the rumors. And why else would you two have married so quickly if not for scandal, Blackburn?"
"Oh, why else?" Collin growled back.
"It wasn't all that scandalous!" Alex's words came fast and too high. "Which is how he escaped being murdered, of course."
"We figured as much. Collin's well known for his upstanding behavior. God knows we never thought he'd be the one to steal a duke's bonny sister from beneath his nose."
The Kirkland men laughed uproariously, none noticing the look that passed between Collin and Alex. Collin nodded, glad they'd focused on him and not Alexandra. He tried to smile in her direction, but she had looked away already, still chewing her lip.
"Collin," James boomed into the now quiet room, "Will ye come take a look at my new mount? Damned if I can afford one of your get, but I think he's a fine one all the same."
He glanced at his wife to find her scooted forward in her seat to whisper secrets with Jeannie. Probably discussing the true story of the hasty courtship. He wondered what she'd told her new friend.
"Collin?"
"Aye. Let's go."
He made a conscious decision not to glance over his shoulder when he walked away. She would be here when he returned.
Chapter 18
She was missing, and where the hell had she gone? Collin glared over the room, probing dark corners with his eyes as if she might be crouched there like a hunting cat. He'd been gone not a half hour for God's sake, and thinking of her every moment and now she was missing. She and Fergus both. Only Jeannie and her brothers sat there— Jeannie in a snit over something and the men ignoring her.
Collin stalked into the kitchen without a word, anger already overriding his good sense. "Is my wife here?" Mrs. Cook and the two maids froze and frowned at him. There were no hidey-holes in the room after all. "Never mind."
He stalked back to the great hall, walking right past Jeannie's outstretched hand. He glanced toward the door, then toward the alcove of the stairway. Rebecca hung back in the shadows, one foot on the first step as she waved him over.
"Collin," she breathed, pulling him close. He tilted his head down, eyes straining up the stairs. "May I . . . ? I haven't known if I should speak of this . . ."
"What?"
"I do not think it appropriate that your lady should . . . Oh, I must hold my tongue."
"Speak, Rebecca." He was amazed that he could push the words out past the burning in his throat.
"It's just that I see them alone so often. I know they are friends, but they should not sneak off together like that."
"Sneak off?"
"I don't. . . Yes."
A smoldering fire flared to life in his chest. Oh, God. Let it not be so. His foot took the first step, and the other followed, though he tried to make it stop.
"No, not up there, Collin. Here." Her fingers made a hesitant motion toward the narrow door to her left. It had once led to a chapel and now led to nothing but a rubble-strewn portion of the yard. What business would anyone have there?
No business at all, some beast inside him crowed, but pleasure.
Collin jerked his head at Rebecca and she scurried up the stairs to disappear above. He wanted no witness to this mess. Bad enough if he had to see it.
His hand touched the door and flattened against the wood. Odd that he felt nothing beneath his fingers. The door swung open without a sound, revealing nothing but the trees beyond the yard and the stars above. Collin stepped to the threshold, hesitated.
A man's voice floated through the night. "No, Alex."
"But—"
"It canna be."
"Oh, Fergus. Why must you be so stubborn? I've seen you looking—"
"No!"
Footsteps crunched away, nearly running through the frozen grass. His wife cursed under her breath.
Collin reeled. I've seen you looking, she'd said. And hadn't she said that very thing to him? I've seen you watching me. Oh, and he had been. He had.
Please, God, this must be a misunderstanding. It must be. She was no harlot. She would not give herself to his best friend. She had been an innocent. A willing, loving woman, but an innocent nonetheless. But not innocent, that beast inside him sneered. A virgin, but not untouched.
He stepped out to the frozen ground, quiet and careful. He could see her in the moonlight, turned away and staring toward the stables. And then Collin could see her in that meadow where she'd first lain beneath him, urging him on as he'd pushed up her skirts, spitting mad when he would not take her. And he could see her on their wedding night, kneeling before him like a damned fantasy, taking his cock into her mouth with a purr of satisfaction. And even on the trail where they'd walked in the forest, her face so demure and timid. You 're far bigger than—Oh, she'd shut her pretty mouth then. Far bigger than who and how many, he should have asked.
"Collin!"
His name sounded jerked from her throat in surprise, but she walked toward him easily enough, a flash of white signaling her smile.
"What did you think of James's gelding?"
He could not crack open his jaw to answer.
"Fergus has gone home, so I hope you weren't looking for him."
"I was not," he growled, "but I found him all the same."
Her foot slid a little in the grass when she stopped. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, wife, that I was looking for you, and I found Fergus also."
"Oh, yes." Her hand rose to brush his sleeve, but it hovered in midair as if she could feel the rage radiating from his skin. "I wished to speak to him about. . . something."
"'Something.'"
"Um, is there something wrong, Collin?"
"I would say so, yes."
"What then?" The uncertainty had left her voice. Her words had gone clipped and short.
How dare she be irritated with him? "Do you think it is right that you steal out here with my manager and whisper in the dark?"
"I was not whispering."
His laughter sounded like metal against stone. She did not deny the sneaking out here, just the whispering. Very well, she hadn't really whispered. She'd pled.
"What is this about?"
"Well, let me ask you this. What was it that got you sent home from London?"
"I don't understand."
"What did my brother see when he opened that door on you and St. Claire?"
Her shadow drew itself up and stepped away from him. "Are you accusing me of. . . Do you think that Fergus. . . ?"
"I am only asking a simple question. I am curious as to your past. I spoke with two men in London who claimed to have kissed you, at least. I thought perhaps it was a hobby of yours. What else?"
"I. . . I did not kiss Fergus! I wouldn't even think it."
"No?"
"No! How can you ask such a thing?"
"Come now, Alexandra. You did much more than kiss St. Claire and he is no better than a dog."
"Collin, I am your wife." The sound of fear in her voice struck him like the snap of a whip. He stepped back from her, as if he stumbled from a dream. She had never spoken to him in fear. Never. He realized that his hands had gone numb with clenching.
"How could you think I'd be unfaithful to you? I've never . . . I've never given you a reason to hate me."
"Why were you hiding out here in the dark then?"
Her breath shuddered in her chest, just as he heard a curse behind him. "Jeannie?" Alex cried.
"Aye, sweeting." Jeannie's voice slid from goose-down to steel. "What the hell are you about, Blackburn?" She didn't brush past him so mu
ch as plow over him in her attempt to get to Alex.
"Come inside now, Alex, where it's warm. We'll leave your man here to cool down." Collin stepped aside to let them pass. "What did that beast say to ye, sweeting?"
The door closed behind them and Collin began to shiver. Was he a beast? Or was he the biggest fool in Scotland?
The wind, gusting and slapping against her face, burned tears into Alex's eyes as she waved farewell to Jeannie and the Kirkland brothers. She wished Jeannie would stay, wished she could hide behind her friend's anger forever.
Collin had slipped into bed late in the night, pretending that he believed her ruse of sleep. He'd slipped out this morning in the same manner, and had only just returned from his work to see their guests away.
The Kirkland carriage disappeared over the hill long before she dared to glance in his direction.
"It's cold," she murmured, and hurried past him toward the relative warmth of the keep. She felt him follow her through the door.
"Will you sit with me upstairs a moment?"
Her gut tumbled. She had no idea what to say to him, whether to rail or cry or hold her tongue. What could she say?
When he moved past her, disappearing up the stairs, she followed him up and into the circle of her sitting room.
"I accused you of something vile last night."
"Yes."
He stared at her, waiting for a confession, she guessed. She was tempted to give it to him just to see his eyes flare with whatever pain she could administer.
"I did not come to this lightly, Alexandra."
Oh, she was Alexandra now. Perhaps a "Lady West-more" was coming.
"One of the servants said that you and Fergus disappear often together."
"One of the—? Who? Rebecca?"
"That doesn't matter."
"It most certainly does. That woman is a bitch. A bitch in heat where you are concerned."
"Don't insult her simply because she came to me with this."
"Oh, I can assure you I've insulted her many times in my mind before this."
"So she lied to me?"
"Yes . . . No. I don't know! What does she mean by disappear? We often go to the stables together. We sit in the hall and talk. Why do I even need to say this to you? I am your wife."
"As long as you can remember that, then we need never speak of this again."
"Collin . . ." Hurt clawed at the walls of her chest, tried to crawl out her throat as a sob. She felt stupid and angry and so confused. Should she be mad? Did he have a right to worry?
She wondered suddenly if one of the Kirkland men had mentioned that she'd followed Fergus out. Wondered if they had raised eyebrows at her departure. Her face burned at the thought. "I'm sorry." She nearly choked on the words. "I didn't think how it would look to our guests."
"That's all?"
"I did nothing wrong, Collin. Nothing." She thought of what Jeannie had said to comfort her the night before. Tell him the truth. Make him feel a fool and he'll come to his senses. The truth then. "Collin, it was Jeannie I spoke of to Fergus, why I searched him out."
"What about Jeannie?"
"There is an . . . an attraction."
"That's ridiculous. Fergus has known her since she was hardly more than a child."
"She's only two years younger than I, Collin. The girl knows what she wants, and Fergus refuses to acknowledge it."
"Then leave the man alone. And if you're speaking the truth . . . then I apologize, Alex. I'm sorry that I lost my temper."
She nodded, feeling like a stranger to herself, but a tiny ray of righteous anger shone through her muddled thoughts. "I want that woman gone."
"Rebecca?"
"She's been disrespectful to me since that first day. And to think that she has spied on me . . ." She could see by the razor line of his mouth that she should have waited to speak. Waited a week or two till this had passed.
"You want me to turn her out?"
"Yes."
"I have known her nearly twenty years. Her mother was a friend to mine."
"She does not treat me as she should, Collin."
"And where should I send her? Out to the cold to freeze? Her mother is dead and she has no family. Could I give her a reference at least, so she would not starve?"
"I don't care where she goes. She wants you, Collin! She watches you like a dog watches for scraps at the table. And she wishes me gone. That should be obvious now."
"What is obvious is her concern for me, as a friend. And what kind of friend would I be if I let you dismiss her? You have never lived as she has, Alex. You have never been hungry or cold or worried over anything more than which dress would flatter your figure most." He paused, and she thought he was done with his tirade, but he only drew a breath for the next attack.
"Rebecca is an excellent housekeeper. She works hard and she does her job and if she is shocked at your boldness, well then, I shall send away everyone who knows you, for who isn't?"
Collin slammed from the room, not caring that he left her heart bleeding in her straining chest.
A long day passed in heavy silence, and Alexandra was sure she would not sleep. But she had lain awake the night before, after all, and the world spun into oblivion as soon as she lay down.
A warm touch woke her to pitch black.
"I'm sorry, Alex." His lips moved against her back, his breath spreading hot over her shoulder blade.
She blinked her eyes open, but the dark soothed her back to sleep within seconds. A heavy weight curled over her waist, Collin's hand curving to the shape of her body, and she sighed with pleasure. "Shh," he whispered. "Sleep."
His mouth trailed kisses, his hand smoothed over her hip. Alex melted into the bed, liquid and warm, as his fingers stroked down to her thighs.
"You're so beautiful. Soft and wild as summer."
The length of his body pressed to her back, a world of heat against her skin. She couldn't help but stretch and sigh and burrow closer to him.
His hand slid over her thigh, he cupped her sex. "Caitein? he breathed.
She was dreaming, she thought, and sank further into the pleasure. She arched against him, pressing back until the hot brand of his cock burned her skin. He rewarded her by slipping one finger into her folds and stroking there.
"Ah!"
Collin's mouth whispered over her ear. "Shh," he said, even as he tortured her with pleasure. Her nerves slowly woke to a hum. His fingers slicked over and over her, teasing and circling until Alex whimpered.
It was lovely and too gentle, and she longed for more. She pressed her hand to his, trying to push him harder, but his fingers refused to obey, refused to stop the torment. She raised her leg and slipped it back, over his thighs. "Collin, please."
"Mmm." His chest rumbled with the sound. He ground his hips against hers. Alex arched and reached behind her to grip the back of his neck. Gaelic tumbled from his lips and he finally slid a finger deep into her body.
"Oh, God," she sobbed into the dark.
"So hot," he whispered on a harsh sigh. "So slick for me, Alex."
"Yes." She angled her knee higher on his leg, spreading herself for him, and Collin shifted his hips and pressed his hard length between her legs. "Yes," she moaned, mad with the feel of him sliding over her folds.
His hand cupped her again, holding her as he slipped back and forth against her. Alex fought back a scream of frustration. She wanted him deep and hard and ruthless, but he seemed bent on torture, merciless in his patience.
The darkness of the room pressed against her skin. Alex waited for the moment when he moved forward, then she tilted her hips and felt him slide into her body. Just an inch, just the head of his cock.
"More," Alex panted. "More." He slid a little deeper, stretching her flesh. She dug her fingernails into his hip, trying to pull him in. She wanted him to fill her until the pleasure grew to pain, wanted to burn with it.
"You consume me, Alex." Collin's words floated like a ghost in the dark.
His fingers curled hard, almost hurting, and then he sank himself deep.
"Oh."
He slid out, then pushed harder in. Again and again, each thrust more brutal than the one before. Alex's body hovered on the edge of that sharp pleasure. Every stroke pushed a high moan past her lips. She dug her nails deep, urging, commanding him to be ruthless.
Collin obliged, finally. He wrapped his hand hard around her thigh and pulled her leg up and open. He drove into her. Alex threw her head back and pressed her own fingers between her legs. She'd barely touched herself when her spiraling pleasure broke open like a hot coal. Fire burned through her, sizzling over her nerves as she screamed and strained against him.
Collin thrust hard one last time, his cry echoing hers, sounds twisting together until they floated into the night.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. His breath cooled the sweat at her temple. "I'm sorry for what I said."
Alex didn't want to wake from her dream, so she only nodded and let the pillow catch her tears.
Chapter 19
"It is so lovely to meet such a beautiful new bride. Welcome to Scotland, Lady Westmore."
"Thank you, Mr. Nash."
New bride. Was she still a new bride? She did not feel like one. To think they had been married but two months. Was it supposed to get worse before it could get better? Lucy hadn't gone into specifics, but things were certainly not falling into place.
Her husband stood at her side amongst the bright gaiety, speaking comfortably, if not tersely, to those he knew. The Kirklands were more important socially than Alex had realized. Jeannie's father was not a lord, but his brother was an earl and the lot of them were rolling in money. The brother was not the only earl in attendance. The party would have been considered high ton even in London, for it was winter, after all, and not a time for idle travel.
The dancing had begun, but Alex did not move to join it. When she'd received the invitation, she'd thought of Collin's promise to learn to waltz but hadn't brought it up. She'd been afraid of his answer. If he'd said no, her feelings would be hurt and then she might lash out and break the fragile truce between them. So it had been for weeks—few words, uncomfortable silences. Whatever speech they exchanged was crouched in careful, polite phrasing. She felt they were circling each other and, when they finally drew close, she didn't know if they would embrace or strike.
To Tempt a Scotsman Page 21
