Sweet Temptation

by Leigh Greenwood

  “Who’s tae say ‘tis lost?”

  “You know it is. No matter how many victories the Prince wins, he has nowhere to go for replacements when his troops are used up, no one has any proper military training, and he has no money to buy guns or ammunition. Cumberland has all three, and more besides. Hell, our men can’t even hit a target with a gun.”

  “Ye canna understand that we’re willing to die for our loyalty.”

  “You’re right, I don’t understand it. If you told me you were fighting for the good of your people, I would understand. If you told me you were fighting for independence from England, I might join you, and we might have a chance to win, but as long as you fight in the name of a pretender king, you’ll only exchange one parasitic monarch for another. And I doubt you’ll be any better off under your bonnie prince, for all his youth and charm. The Stuarts have always held to their divine right to be kings, and this young man has a full dose of the fever.”

  “But he is divinely ordained,” insisted Donald Fraser. “He goes back to James I in an unbroken line!”

  “You’re forgetting that England has twice rid herself of Stuarts from this line, and at the third opportunity, they chose a German instead. England will never allow them back.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I’m afraid we shall.”

  There was a disturbance outside the room, and the door was opened to allow in a buxom young maid with flaming red hair spilling down her back who boldly scanned the gathering until her eyes settled on Gavin.

  “Oich, I knew ye were here,” she called, entering the room like a whirlwind and slapping Gavin with a huge kiss as he hastily rose to his feet. “My body always knows when ye are about.”

  Donald Fraser chuckled. “The lassie is nothing if no’ direct. I’d beat her if she were mine, but I’ll no’ tell my brother how tae raise his child.”

  “I heard ye were back from London, but ye were off again before I could find ye.”

  “I had to go to Glasgow on business.”

  “And to bring back a wife,” added Donald Fraser.

  “Oich!” exclaimed Colleen, bounding up from where she had settled on Gavin’s lap. “I heard ye were married tae a wheyfaced virgin who ran at the sight o’ yer rod.” She laughed lustily. “She ran the wrong way.” She laughed again, but when Gavin didn’t join her, she sobered quickly enough. “She’d better be Scottish,” said Colleen, hand on her hips, a challenging look in her eye.

  “She is, but she has lived in London all her life.”

  “Weren’t nobody here good enough for ye? I’ll bet she has white skin, no breasts, and lies rigid under you, holding her breath the whole time.”

  Gavin remembered Sara’s far from cold response in Edinburgh and flushed. Colleen took that for an admission, and he didn’t tell her otherwise.

  “Why could ye no’ find yerself some Scottish lassie tae marry with ye?”

  “Likely none rich enough,” Fraser said, before Gavin could speak. “She’s an heiress I heard.”

  “No thin-blooded heiress can keep a man like ye satisfied,” Colleen said suggestively.

  “Maybe not, but ye can’t expect him tae admit it in front of a lot o’ chattering witnesses, can ye?” asked Fraser with twinkling eyes, as Gavin removed Colleen’s arms from around his neck, her lips from his mouth, and her buttocks from his lap.

  “I still say you’re making a mistake supporting the Prince,” Gavin said, deciding to take his leave before Colleen could make any more advances.

  “Only time will tell,” Fraser replied.

  “And I say be done with all this talk o’ war and have some ale,” Colleen encouraged them both. “Tis all I ever hear, and I’m sick of it.”

  “You’ll hear a lot more before it’s over.”

  “I’ll be here when you get tired of the ice maiden,” Colleen whispered to Gavin as he started to leave.

  “You might find yourself waiting a long time.”

  Colleen looked startled at Gavin’s words, and then angry at Fraser’s crack of laughter, but she quickly recovered her control.

  “Are ye telling me she’s as well-favored as I am?” she asked, rubbing her buxom figure suggestively against Gavin.

  “No,” Gavin replied, with a reminiscent smile that worried Colleen more than any of his words. “She’s slender enough to please even my father.”

  But Gavin wasn’t smiling as he climbed into the saddle, nor was it because of his father. He was stunned to realize that he hadn’t been the least interested in Colleen. In fact, he hadn’t even thought of her since he got back from Glasgow. It took a few minutes to absorb that shock, but it took the rest of the ride home to admit it was all because of Sara.

  Colleen had not been his mistress exactly, but she was a lusty wench with a robust appetite and a great appreciation for Gavin’s body. She had fallen into the habit of thinking of him as hers alone when he was in Scotland, and he had unthinkingly acquiesced. But now he was suddenly unmoved by her charms, so unmoved that he had not the slightest desire to seek her out, or allow her to seek him out.

  His arrival at Estameer interrupted his train of thought, but it returned to Sara the moment his valet left his room. He had been haunted by her ever since that first night in London. At first it had been guilt—guilt had been one of the reasons he had slept with her in Edinburgh—but he had had time since to learn that guilt had been the least important reason of all. Now he was obsessed by an almost overmastering desire to experience her body once again. If that had been all, he wouldn’t have hesitated any more than he would have with his mistresses, but he recognized a different quality in the feeling he felt for her, and he foresaw in that emotional response the strangling net of love. No matter what the sacrifice, he had sworn he would not allow himself to be caught in the same mesh that had made his mother’s life a living hell.

  Gavin drew the cord of his dressing gown with an oath and poured himself some brandy. More than once, he had almost persuaded himself he could enjoy Sara’s body without endangering his soul, only to catch himself at the last minute. There was something about Sara that defied a limited involvement, and he had tried hard not to feel drawn to her, but once he had married her, once he had taken her into his home, it was impossible to remain indifferent. Even worse, he found he didn’t want to.

  Gavin sat down in his chair so abruptly he spilled some brandy, but he was too absorbed to notice. The defenses he had built over the years—defenses which had never been threatened until now—were in danger of being breached. His instincts told him to run, to escape before it was too late, but he could not, he would not. He would not because having married Sara and discovered she was in love with him, or at least thought she was, he could not desert her. She may have made a mistake, but she hadn’t known it at the time. He had, and he owed her something for selfishly allowing her to link her future with his.

  He would not turn his back on her because he simply could not. Struggle though he would, there was something that drew him to Sara, something of fascination, something of lust, and something more pure and exhilarating than anything he had ever experienced.

  Gavin’s eyes were drawn to the door that linked their rooms, and he could feel a force, physical in its strength, pulling him toward that door, to the unspoiled and loving woman who slept beyond, the woman who would undoubtedly welcome him into her arms. His wife! Gavin broke out in a cold sweat. He took another swallow of brandy, but it didn’t help. With another oath, he surged out of his chair, grabbed up the candle at his bedside, and stumbled over to the door. It wasn’t locked. He knew it wouldn’t be. He forced himself to pause with his hand on the knob, but almost by itself, the handle turned and the door swung open.

  Sara slept in a large bed on a raised dais in the center of the room. The room was plunged into Stygian darkness, but the feeble shafts of light from his single candle found her, and drew Gavin to her bedside on silent feet.

  The light fell on the bed, illuminating the deep shado
ws, revealing Sara lying on her side, her head resting in the crook of her arm. The light must have bothered her for she turned restlessly on her back and faced away from the flickering beams, one arm flung out from her. Gavin froze, the candle high above his head; she turned back toward him and was still.

  Gavin stood transfixed by the serene loveliness before him, his body straining to reach out and touch her, his mind determined to keep to its vow to evade the clutches of her attractions. Her hair billowed away from her head in masses of red blond curls, framing the pale white of her skin. He had never known she had so much hair, or that it rioted in such a wealth of curls. She usually kept it confined under a cap, but he found he preferred it loose. It made her look younger, more innocent, more in need of his care.

  His eyes studied her face, memorizing every detail. He longed to reach out and touch those lips. He remembered their sweetness, could feel the softness of her skin. One hand moved forward and hovered over her lips. Slowly and with great effort, he drew it back. She might wake to his touch, and hungry as he was to console himself with her body, the thought of having to explain why she should find him standing over her with a naked look of desire in his eyes gave him the resolution to draw back.

  Even though it was winter, the neck of her gown was open, and he could see the column of her throat as it disappeared beyond the heavy cotton. A vivid picture of her body as it lay before him that night in Edinburgh sprang into his mind causing his body to ache and lurch in a spasm of desire. A drop of wax from the trembling candle fell on the pillow next to her hair, and Gavin hurriedly drew back.

  He must leave, run out of the room before he lost control, or burn them both with a raging desire hotter even than the wax of the candle. Stiffly, with hesitant steps, Gavin backed away from the bed until he was across the room, through the door, and back into his own room. Then, desperately, like a man stumbling to reach his first water in days, Gavin staggered over to the chest, searched until he found the key, and locking the door, flung the key from him. It landed somewhere with a dull thud. The tension went out of his body and he sagged against the wall, breathing deeply. He drove from his mind the wailing voice that urged him to find the key and open the door once more; he ignored the heated blood that raced through his veins and burned like the fangs of a thousand serpents.

  Agony worse than anything he had ever experienced or imagined, more than he could resist, racked his body. He took a deep breath and, walking unsteadily past his welcoming bed, threw open the casement windows. A raw January cold swept into the room; Gavin opened his dressing gown and let the freezing air pour over his body, until he shook uncontrollably. But he couldn’t tell whether he trembled from the icy cold outside his body, or the scorching flame inside. With another oath, he flung himself on the bed, hoping sleep would give him at least a temporary release from his misery.

  He had to do something soon. He couldn’t stand to have Sara studying so hard to become the kind of wife he wanted, loving him without censure, looking more alluring than any female he knew, and continue to ignore her. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. Moreover, it wasn’t possible. He felt his resistance waver more each day, and unless he was ready to take what she offered, without giving the promises she wanted in exchange, he had to get away.

  He lay awake for most of the night thinking of her smile and the smell of roses, but never did he think of how to leave her.

  Chapter 18

  Gavin was waiting for Sara when she came down. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him standing there in the candlelight staring up at her, and there was a perceptible pause before she continued down the staircase. Would she ever be able to look upon his handsome features or disturbing body without feeling the rush of adrenalin that made her pulse race? Even now, after weeks of living in the same house with him, he took her breath away each time she saw him. No wonder she still felt like a new bride.

  Gavin was dressed in the Carlisle plaid, a bold combination of blue and green with thin stripes of red and yellow. Hat, coat, tartan, and kilt were a blaze of color against the pure white of his waistcoat. His muscled calves strained against dark blue socks that came to his knees and exposed the lower half of his powerful thighs below the hem of the kilt, leaving no doubt as to his masculinity or the power of his body.

  It was a dazzling ensemble and Sara felt agog with excitement. This breath-taking man was her husband, and she renewed her vow to overcome whatever it was that still kept them apart.

  “You have thrown down the gauntlet to the local beauties right and proper,” Gavin said, taking in the picture Sara presented with expert eyes. “They’ll be reduced to biting their nails and blaming their dressmakers for making them look a dowd.”

  Sara knew her glow of happiness was too obvious, and she knew it was unsophisticated to long for her husband’s approval, but she didn’t care. She had spent a lot of time puzzling over what she should wear tonight, and she was pleased to have succeeded. It was worth any amount of work to have Gavin notice her like this.

  She neither wore a wig nor had she powdered her hair, but everything else about her appearance was fashioned according to the latest Paris styles, and spoke eloquently of rich fabrics and expensive London modistes. Her gown was cut daringly low, but a ruffle in the bodice kept it from being provocative. The small waist over the enormous hoop emphasized the daintiness of her figure. An overskirt in deep blue velvet was pulled back to display a white silk underskirt, decorated with blue silk flowers that matched the color of her eyes.

  “I hope I’m not overdressed, but I didn’t want you to be ashamed of me either.”

  “Any man would take pride in having you for his wife.”

  Any man except you, Sara thought. Aloud she said, “You look rather splendid yourself.”

  Gavin laughed. “Let us agree that our clothes are a success. Shall we stun our guests with our magnificence?”

  You don’t need clothes to stun anyone, Sara thought, her body riveted by the electricity which flowed through her fingers when she touched his arm. He had hardly touched her since that night in Edinburgh, she had barely seen him, and the effect was sharper for the time spent waiting. She would have liked to lock the doors against the hordes of strangers and keep him all to herself, but she knew she couldn’t. The next step in her campaign depended upon her success tonight. If the community began to see her as an inseparable and invaluable counterpart to Gavin, maybe he would, too.

  Sara’s excitement grew as the guests arrived and Gavin made them welcome. She knew he had come to accept her as his wife, but for the first time, he was presenting her with a note of pride in his voice. And pride of possession could be seen in his eyes when he looked at her. Her brain sang with happiness, and she had all she could do to pay attention to the guests as he introduced them to her.

  Only one guest disturbed the decorum of the evening. Sara saw the flaming hair and heard the throaty laugh before she saw Colleen Fraser.

  “Gavin, luv,” she virtually shouted, breaking through the line instead of waiting for those ahead of her to move on. “The place doesn’t look the same. You expecting a visit from Cumberland?”

  “Just you,” Gavin replied, no more troubled by the hated name than Colleen. “My wife decided you should not be allowed to outshine your surroundings.” Colleen laughed in her seductive alto.

  “Is this the blushing bride?”

  I refuse to blush, Sara thought, wondering if she would ever escape from the shadow of flaming redheads. She pinned a smile to her lips, but her whole being reacted with pure antagonism. She didn’t like Colleen, and it had nothing to do with her red hair.

  “Yes, this is Lady Carlisle. Colleen Fraser.”

  “A skinny bit of a lass, isn’t she?” Colleen said, squaring her shoulders, the better to contrast her ample figure with Sara’s trim one.

  “Gold is valued for its scarcity, coal for its abundance,” Sara said, before she was even conscious of the thought. The atmosphere in the room, as well
as Gavin’s body, tensed as Colleen’s eyes flashed in anger, but Sara refused to back down. She’d face Gavin’s anger later, but she wouldn’t be held in contempt by this redheaded hussy, and certainly not in her own home.

  “My niece has never learned manners,” Donald Fraser said, as he advanced toward Sara in his niece’s wake. “’T would be a kindness tae me if ye would overlook her behavior. My sister died giving her birth, and I’m afraid the rest of us spoiled her, her being the only girl and pretty into the bargain.”

  Sara allowed Gavin to smooth over the awkward moment, which he did despite the exasperation that lurked in his eyes, but she didn’t fail to notice that Colleen favored her with an interrogatory glance.

  “I want the first reel,” the redhead said, turning back to Gavin. “We always lead.” It was more of a challenge to Sara than an explanation.

  “I don’t know the dance, so I’m glad Gavin will have a partner worthy of his skill. Your, uh, amplitude won’t slow you down, will it?’ Sara asked, staring meaningfully at Colleen’s enormous bosom. Fraser’s crack of laughter stalled Colleen’s threatened outburst.

  “We’d better move on, lassie. Ye have been bested in this encounter.”

  “I’ll wait for ye,” Colleen said seductively to Gavin. “It’ll be nice tae feel yer arms about me again.”

  Sara said nothing, but her smile became more forced.

  “Pay no attention to her,” Fraser advised, following his niece with fond eyes. “She’s a little high-spirited at times, but she is a bonnie lassie.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Sara assured him. “I’m so glad she could come.”

  “Try to remember she’s our guest,” Gavin hissed under his breath.

  “I will, when she remembers you are my husband,” Sara hissed back. She didn’t want to anger Gavin, not when the evening had started off so well, but she would not allow any woman to pursue her husband before her very eyes.

  There were more guests to be greeted, and even though Sara felt Gavin’s anger recede with the resumption of his duties, her high hopes for the evening began to fade.