Never Kiss a Laird

by Byrnes, Tess

  “You were in London?” Sally repeated, confused.

  “I followed you there.” Hugh admitted. “I knew you were planning to return Bridget to her lover, and I wanted to make sure you were all right. I stayed until I saw you successful at the carrier’s yard, and then I returned to Scotland.”

  “You followed me,” Sally shook her head wonderingly. “I did not see you.”

  “I was stealthy,” Hugh explained. He paused for a moment, looking at Sally. A grin suddenly quirked his mouth and he commented, “I never would have suspected that you wear a night cap.”

  Sally’s hand flew to her head, and she pulled the cotton cap from her head. “My grandmother insists,” she muttered, her cheeks reddening.

  “You mistake me, I find it oddly attractive.” Hugh’s grin widened, and Sally was suddenly aware that she was dressed only in a thin, lawn night gown.

  Wrapping her arms around herself, she said, “It’s a shame you didn’t stay in London a little longer, my lord. You would have seen me fall victim to a cut-purse.”

  “So your groom informed me. Sally, you have no idea how much I wish you had come to me for help, rather than your grandmother.”

  “How could I?’ Sally asked him earnestly. “You owe me nothing. Besides, I think you are forgetting about Clarissa Riding. How would your new bride feel about you coming to the assistance of a woman with neither reputation nor means?”

  Hugh came forward and sat on the edge of Sally’s bed, pulling her down to sit beside him. “Since it was my butler who had called the constabulary on you, I felt a certain responsibility to make sure you were safe. I must say, I would have given a monkey to see you climb out of the window and down that old cherry tree.”

  Sally smiled unwillingly. “That still doesn’t explain what you are doing here in my chamber.”

  “I wanted to see you,” he replied simply.

  Sally stood and walked across the room. The myriad ills of her situation threatened to crush her. Her reputation, lost to her through no misconduct on her part, made her ineligible to seek the happiness she wanted so much. Instead, marriage to a man whom she despised was being pushed on her by her family. And unless she could get her hands on her money, she was unlikely to be able to stand against the combined pressure of her parents, grandmother, and the iniquitous Mr. Atherly. The existence that loomed in front of her seemed bleak, lonely and unavoidable.

  “You should leave, my lord,” Sally stated dispiritedly, tying her night cap back over her red-gold curls, and walking back to her bed and sitting down beside the Earl.

  “I don’t want to,” Hugh objected. He looked around the chamber. “You are being accorded an honor, I see,” he remarked conversationally. “I am never given as nice a room as this when I stay.”

  Sally refused the bait. “I think you should go,” she repeated. “If anyone were to catch you here, there would be a terrible scene.”

  “Are you expecting more visitors, Miss Denlington?”

  Sally’s breath exhaled on an unexpected laugh. “Don’t make fun of me! You have no idea how hard it is to think of a false name under such circumstances.”

  “True, I have never attempted to do so,” Hugh agreed.

  “It is not at all easy,” Sally assured him in a stern voice. “Of course, I should have thought of a name before I started out. I should have done so many things differently. I have failed in all I set out to do, and I have let Millie and Miles down. How I could have been so foolish, I can’t think. I have disappointed everyone.”

  “Not everyone,” Hugh said gently. “You did a really good thing for Bridget. I saw her with her carrier’s lad in Lambeth. They looked happy.”

  Sally sighed. “Yes, that is the one good thing to come out of all of this.”

  “Not quite the only thing. Sally,” Hugh urged in a soft, compelling voice. “You must know by now that I have no common degree of regard for you.” He placed his palm on her soft cheek, and gently traced his thumb across Sally’s full lower lip. “And I believe you are not completely indifferent to me, either.”

  Sally closed her eyes, reveling in the sensations. She felt Hugh’s weight shift on the bed, and his soft breath on her neck moments before his lips touched that sensitive spot behind her ear. She turned her face to him, and met his searching mouth. One caressing hand slipped over her shoulder, skimming lightly over her back sending shivers along her spine. Sally moaned as Hugh deepened his kiss, and she allowed him to press her gently back against the soft coverlet.

  Suddenly summoning all her willpower, Sally stood abruptly, pushing Hugh away. “Are you not forgetting a little complication of your own, my lord?” she asked, pursing her lips.

  He leaned back on his elbows, looking up at her with a puzzled expression.

  “Clarissa Riding?” Sally reminded him, eyes wide in disbelief of his short memory.

  “I am not betrothed to Clarissa Riding, and have no intention of being so. In fact, from what I observed at dinner tonight, I think your brother is doing his best to cut me out, and looks like being successful.”

  “Rupert?” Sally asked, amazed. “Rupert and Clarissa Riding? Her parents will allow it?”

  “So it seems. My only regret is saddling your parents with a set of in-laws who will attempt to bleed them dry. I left Mrs. Riding attempting to discover from Rupert the extent of his fortune, and whether or not his older brother enjoyed good health. I fear your parents will be plagued by them for years to come.”

  Sally laughed. “It will serve them right,” she said heartlessly.

  Hugh reached forward and grasped her wrists, pulling her towards him. “Sally, you are the only woman I want. Now and always”

  Sally stared into his eyes, searching for the truth. “Really, Hugh?”

  “Really and truly.” He pulled her forward until she fell on top of him, and he leaned back onto the bed, rolling Sally over on to her back.

  “What about my ruined reputation?” she murmured as Hugh attempted to kiss her.

  “Yes,” Hugh remarked, trailing kisses down her white throat. “There is that. We will have to hope that my spotless reputation will be enough for both of us.”

  “Funny,” Sally uttered, her senses being pulled away from rational thought, ensnared in the intoxicating sensations Hugh was creating in her. “But Hugh, how can I ever go back to Castle Kane? Your staff will know me immediately as Aileen, your thieving housemaid!”

  “Hmm,” Hugh stopped his progress. “I had forgotten about Aileen. Do you still have that black maid’s dress?” he murmured provocatively, one eyebrow raised.

  “I am serious, Hugh,” Sally said, her prim mouth belied by the mischievous smile reflected in her eyes.

  “My dear Sally, I have known Mrs. Cameron and Carr my whole life. My father was a cold, harsh man. My mother tried very hard, but she could never stand up to him. After she died, the Castle became a very difficult place to live, and Mrs. White’s kitchen became my sanctuary. The staff are my family, Sally, and they will love you.”

  “Are you sure?” Sally asked, a hopeful note in her voice.

  “I am sure,” Hugh assured her, untying the strings of her nightcap and pulling it from her head. Sally met his eyes searchingly and saw nothing there but love and understanding. She felt as if a great weight was rolling away from her shoulders, and she leaned in to meet Hugh’s lips, her whole body instantly caught up in her desire for him.

  “Now, where were we?’ Hugh murmured, skillfully unbuttoning the top of Sally’s nightgown with one hand.

  Suddenly a rap sounded at the door, and they both froze.

  “You cannot be found here,” Sally whispered, horrified. She glanced around the room frantically. “Quick! Into the cupboard.”

  Hugh allowed her to pull him to his feet, and felt her small determined hands on his back, compelling him towards the cupboard door. “Sally,” he objected. “Maybe we should just face whoever it is, and brazen it out!”

  “No!’ Sally implored. “I mu
st have time to tell my family in my own way. Please, Hugh. I cannot face another scene.”

  He looked at the small cluttered interior of the cupboard, and then back at his determined little love. “You do remember that I am the Earl of Kane, do you not? Baron of Thorne? Member of the House of Lords? Peer of the Realm?”

  “Quickly! And watch your head,” Sally cautioned, trying not to laugh and giving her most eminent beloved a strong shove.

  He permitted her to enclose him into the cramped space, and he gingerly turned and pressed his ear to the door. He could dimly hear someone speaking in Sally’s chamber.

  Sally spun around to see her mother opening the door.

  “What are you doing out of bed?” Lady Denham asked querulously. “You are the most thoughtless girl, Sarah. Get into bed, and put on your nightcap. Try to remember that you were born a gentleman’s daughter.”

  Sally donned her nightcap obediently, and climbed back into her bed. She could not repress the lingering smile on her face, an expression that could not have contrasted more strongly with the disapproving look on her mother’s face.

  “You seem extremely pleased with yourself, although I can certainly think of no reason why you should be,” Lady Denham commented coldly. “You seem not to care at all about the trouble you have brought upon the family.”

  “You are wrong, Mama,” Sally told her, her face sobering. “I am indeed very sorry for all that I have put you and Papa through.”

  “Then show it, miss, instead of all this false talk. I have informed Simon that you have accepted his suit.’

  “But I most certainly have not!” Sally averred.

  “I am well aware of that,” her mother said disdainfully. “Nonetheless, you will marry Simon Atherly. I have sent to London for a special license, so that we need not wait for the banns to be read. Simon has agreed to this, and you will be married from this house in two days.” She did not wait for an answer from Sally, but turned and walked to the door. Before she closed it behind herself, she looked back at her daughter. “You are a sad disappointment to me, Sarah,” she stated coldly. “Do not make me even more displeased to be your mother.”

  Lady Denham closed the door sharply, and Sally sat looking blankly after her. She had always known that her mother preferred her brothers, but never had it been so plainly spoken before. The closet door opened, and Hugh poked his head out. His hair had become wildly disheveled, and despite herself Sally burst out laughing.

  “Is it safe to come out?” he asked.

  “Indeed it is,” Sally giggled, only to be interrupted by a second rap at the door. She looked imploringly at Hugh. “Just once more?”

  Hugh shook his head, sighing heavily, but retreated back into the closet, pulling the door behind him.

  For the second time, her bedroom door opened, and she was surprised to hear a masculine voice say, “You seem very merry. Your mother informs me that you are at last reconciled to our union.” To Sally’s shock, Simon Atherly stood framed in the doorway, gorgeously attired in a scarlet silk dressing gown, an extremely pleased smile upon his handsome face. “I see no reason why we should not seal our betrothal properly.” He pulled a bottle of champagne from behind his back in one hand, and two of Lady Waverly’s best Waterford flutes in the other.

  “Mr. Atherly, you are making a serious mistake,” Sally said urgently, darting her eyes towards the cupboard door, and hoping that Hugh could not hear well enough to know who was speaking.

  “Nonsense. You behold in me your savior. I’m here to save your lost reputation, Sally, so how could I possibly harm it further? It’s perfectly delicious.” He advanced into the room as he spoke, and set the flutes on a chest of drawers. “I can do anything I want, and your reputation cannot possibly suffer more than it has done.”

  “Mr. Atherly,” Sally demanded in a low but compelling voice. “I insist that you leave this room at once!”

  “Why?” Simon quipped. “Are you hiding another man in here?” He laughed heartily at his own joke, and Sally hissed at him to be quiet.

  “I will call the servants,” she threatened.

  “I don’t think you’ll do that,” Simon winked. “I suspect you are not as ill-pleased as you pretend to find me here,” he said in a self-satisfied voice. “And I have a feeling your grandmother would be thrilled to see us getting along so well.” He grasped the cork, twisted the bottle and with a loud pop, frothy champagne spilled over.

  At the explosive sound, the cupboard door flew open, and the Earl of Kane emerged from the cramped enclosure, an expression of fury on his face as he realized who Sally’s latest visitor was.

  “Who are you?” Simon exclaimed, astonished. He looked over at Sally. “Explain yourself, miss!”

  The look of offended virtue on Simon’s face was too much for Sally, who had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing.

  Hugh, taking in the gorgeous dressing gown and the champagne in once glance, strode forward, imposing himself between Sally and her would-be lover. “Allow me to introduce myself to you, sir,” Hugh proclaimed formally, in a hard voice. He was unaware that his hair was wildly disarrayed and somehow his cravat had been pushed to one side, and two of his shirtfront buttons had come undone. “I am Hugh McLeod, Earl of Kane, at your service.”

  Simon observed Hugh with an expression of outrage. “Why are you lurking in the bedchamber of my affianced wife in this shocking state of undress, my lord?” he uttered in indignant tones, eyeing Hugh’s unkempt state resentfully.

  Hugh’s eyes narrowed. “So you are the infamous Simon Atherly,” he uttered, nodding disdainfully. “The cad who misused an innocent interlude to try to force this girl into marriage. The bounder who could have told the truth and restored her reputation, and refused.” He stepped forward as he spoke, pulling his arm back, but before he could deliver the slap, which would be the prelude to a challenge, Sally flung herself between the two, her hands pressed to the Earl’s chest, pushing him backwards with all her strength.

  “Hugh, please do not! I forbid you to fight Mr. Atherly!”

  Mr. Atherly was in complete agreement. He retreated behind Sally, crouching down, his hands on her shoulders. “Sally, why is the Earl of Kane hiding in your bedroom?” he asked nervously. Like many bullies, Simon was not eager to fight an opponent of his own size. He certainly wanted to get his hands on Sally’s fortune, but this menacing man appeared more than ready to offer a challenge that Simon had no desire to accept.

  “I do not have to explain myself to you, Mr. Atherly,” Sally informed him firmly over her shoulder. “If I choose to have gentlemen in my cupboard it is no one’s business but my own.”

  Simon straightened, and carefully keeping Sally between himself and the incensed nobleman, he edged towards the door. “I have been deceived in you, Miss Denham,” he stated in an injured tone. “I see now that Lady Greenly was right, and I have had a very lucky escape.”

  Hugh could stand it no longer and broke in. “You had best make that escape, then, Mr. Atherly,” he advised in a tone of voice that promised no good.

  Simon looked at him, and quickly opened the door. “You are welcome to her, my lord,” he sneered. “Until the next man comes along.”

  Hugh charged the door, and Simon, eyes popping, leapt through it and pulled the door quickly closed behind him.

  The Earl turned and met Sally’s eyes. “So that is your other suitor, my dear?” he asked conversationally.

  Sally nodded, a rueful twinkle in her eyes.

  “I don’t think much of the competition,” Hugh commented. “At least he left us the champagne.” He poured the sparkling, amber liquid into the two flutes, and handed one to Sally. “To the victor…” he smiled wickedly.

  “It wasn’t really much of a fight,” Sally temporized, taking a sip of the sparkling wine.

  “I defy anyone to push a fight onto that coward.” Hugh said, disgustedly. He set down his flute, and stepped forward. “Now, where were we?” he murmured, slipping off his j
acket, and pulling at his wrinkled cravat.

  Sally shivered happily in anticipation, and as she slipped her arms around her victorious suitor, the door flew open once more, and Lady Waverly stepped into the room, supported by Marsters.

  “Well!” the outraged Dowager proclaimed in a withering voice. “I thought I heard something going on. But never did I expect to see a scene such as this!”

  The Dowager, an incredibly light sleeper, had been roused by the unusual state of affairs of the sound of doors opening and closing at an advanced hour of the night. Her need to be aware of everything that went on in her house caused her to ring for assistance, don her robe, and come out into the hallway to investigate. She had been stunned to see Simon Atherly exit her granddaughter’s room and run quickly back to his own chamber. Outraged, she had opened her granddaughter’s door, but never had she expected to see the chit in the embrace of a second man.

  Sally’s face, turned in surprise towards her grandmother, had a delicate flush, and her arms were definitely wrapped around the man’s torso. The top buttons of her nightgown were undone, her bare toes were peeping from beneath this garment, and of her night cap there was no sign whatsoever. The cad who had entered her bedroom had evidently removed his jacket, and stood with his back to the door, his arms around the not-unwilling form of Lady Waverly’s disgraced granddaughter.

  “Dammit,” Hugh exhaled, dropping his arms and throwing back his head in exasperation.

  “Hugh McLeod!” Lady Waverly’s eyes widened in disbelief, as she realized who the man was who held her granddaughter in such an improper embrace.

  “Godmother,” Hugh returned pleasantly.

  “Are you entirely shameless?” Lady Waverly, shaking with fury, addressed herself to her granddaughter. “You are entertaining this man in your chamber now, and I have just seen your betrothed exit this room in some haste not two minutes ago! I am speechless, miss.”

  Hugh stepped forward, picking up his jacket and taking his grandmother’s arm. With a regretful glance at Sally, he addressed the angry Dowager. “I must apologize for raising you from your bed so late, Godmother.” Lady Waverly’s head barely reached Hugh’s shoulder, and she leaned heavily on his arm. Her claw-like hand grasped his arm for support, and Hugh remembered guiltily that she was well into her eighties and should not be roused from her bed at midnight. “Let me escort you back to you room, godmother, and ring for your maid.”