The Marquess's Scottish Bride

by Lauren Royal

  She was getting breathless by the time a portly gentleman tapped Jason on the shoulder. “May I claim the pleasure?” he asked.

  Jason didn’t look very happy. But he pulled Caithren from the dance and introduced her to the man, a Lord Berkeley.

  “It’s glad I am to make your acquaintance,” Cait said. “And by any chance, have you seen my bro—”

  “Beg pardon,” Jason interrupted. “We must be off.” And he propelled her back to the entry and the shadow of the post.

  “Wait.” With two hands on his chest, she stopped him leaning in to kiss her again. “Why don’t you want me to ask after my brother?”

  “I only want to steal a moment with you,” he protested, drawing her close. He trailed little kisses along her jaw, and she felt dizzy. “I don’t know what’s come over me, but I cannot seem to resist you.”

  Her pulse sped up, but she wasn’t going to fall for his tricks. No matter how delightful they were. “Do you think my head laces up the back?”

  He paused. “Pardon?”

  “Don’t take me for a fool. You’re trying to keep me from Adam, and I want to know why.”

  He caught her gaze with his. “I want only for us to be together tonight. Besides, would you not have noticed your brother by now were he here?”

  He had a point. And when he pressed his lips to hers, she was afraid he made that point compellingly.

  The footman opened and closed the front door, admitting a new guest, but Caithren barely noticed the footsteps or the low murmur of the servants’ awed acknowledgments. Jason was nibbling her lower lip, a new and thrilling sensation. She wound her arms around his neck and twined her fingers in his thick hair.

  “Cainewood, is that you?” The voice was deep, the words drawled and amused. “I cannot wait to see the lady who’s taken your fancy.”

  Caithren pulled away and stared up at a tall, dark stranger. Heat flooded her cheeks, and embarrassment made her feel weak as a newborn bairn.

  Jason turned her to face the man square on.

  “Od’s fish, what happened to you?” The man peered at him critically. “You look like Colin.”

  “A long story, best told another time. Sire, this is Caithren Leslie.” The fact that he hadn’t called her by the invented Lady title was not lost on Cait, even in her confused state. “Caithren, King Charles.”

  King Charles? She felt the blood drain from her face. Jason supported her with one steady arm. “It-it’s pleased I am to make your acquaintance,” she said by rote. She caught herself before reciting the “have you seen my brother” part. “Your Majesty,” she added instead with a tremulous smile.

  The king took her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss. His eyes burned into hers, a compelling black. “A pleasure to meet you, my dear. The lady who captures Cainewood’s heart is a special one, indeed.”

  He was still holding her hand. Her heart was beating like it wished to escape her chest. She wanted to drop into the intricate parquet floor. Which was ridiculous. He was but a man.

  “Love’s wan e’e and ower deef,” she blethered.

  The king dropped her hand. “Pardon?”

  “Caithren is full of her mother’s Scottish wisdom,” Jason explained.

  “I’m of Scottish descent, but sorely lacking in wisdom.” In a gesture that reminded her of Jason, Charles stroked his thin mustache. “And this saying means…?”

  “Love is almost blind and a bit deaf,” Cait interpreted.

  With that, the king threw back his head and laughed, a great roar that all but rattled the enormous chandelier overhead.

  “She’s a gem,” he told Jason. Peering over their shoulders, he frowned. “Blast it, Barbara and Frances are at it again. I’d best be off.” And he made his way toward the ballroom, a commanding figure in dark red velvet trimmed with some sort of fur instead of ribbons.

  Cait all but collapsed against Jason’s chest. “Barbara and Frances?” she asked weakly.

  “His two mistresses of the moment.” When she looked up at him in shock, he just laughed. “Come along, I think you could do with some wine.” He guided her down the hall toward the refreshment room.

  “I didn’t mean to imply there was love—I mean, that you—that line just popped into my head, and—”

  “Think nothing of it.”

  She halted in her tracks and turned to confront him. “And why didn’t you tell me the king might be here? He must’ve thought I was sodie-heid”—at the look on his face, she translated—“feather-brained, aye?”

  “Kendra did say Charles would be in attendance.” He led her to a table and picked up a cup. “If you’ll remember.”

  Caithren wracked her brain while he handed her the cup and lifted a gigantic, solid silver ladle that must have weighed ten pounds if it were an ounce. “Aye, that is exactly what she said. Charles would be in attendance. As though he were a personal friend of the family or some such—”

  “He is.”

  She dropped the cup, jumping back as it splashed and rolled under the table.

  “We spent years together with him in exile, after the Civil War. In abject poverty, I might add. The Restoration restored more than Charles’s throne—he saw our property restored as well. And he settled titles on my two younger brothers, who otherwise would have—”

  “And was I supposed to guess all that, you daftie? The longer I’m around you, the more confused I get.” She looked down. “And now I’ve gone and ruined Lady Kendra’s fancy gold shoes.”

  Jason only smiled. “I’ll buy her another pair.” He filled a second cup and curled her fingers around it. “Here. Drink.”

  Served from an enormous silver punch bowl shaped like a swan, the wine was spiced and delicious. She drank two cups of it, danced with Jason, then drank another. Her gaze never strayed too far from King Charles. But he didn’t stay long. When he left, she watched him all the way to the grand front doors, feeling relief tempered with a healthy dose of awe.

  She had actually attended the same ball as King Charles. Cameron wasn’t going to believe it.

  Jason introduced her to Lady Castlemaine and Lord Arlington and the Duke of Buckingham. Everyone she’d ever heard of seemed to be here.

  Everyone but Adam.

  She couldn’t bring herself to be too sorry, though. Much as she wanted to see Adam and settle Leslie’s future, this night was too enchanting to really wish such mundane matters would intrude.

  Jason followed her when she teetered off the dance floor and leaned herself against the mantel of one of the immense fireplaces that flanked either end of the ballroom. They weren’t lit tonight, which was a good thing, because the chamber was overly warm as it was.

  A giddy little giggle bubbled out as she looked up at Jason. Surely no other man here was as handsome as he. He wore a dark green velvet suit that brought out his eyes, and his own glossy black hair skimmed his shoulders. The hair that she’d cut. She’d cut the hair of a marquess.

  She giggled again at the memory. “Will you fetch me another cup of wine?”

  “I think you may be tipsy enough as it is,” he responded with a good-natured grin.

  Now that he mentioned it, her head was reeling a wee bit. “It’s only this glorious night. I will remember it forever, my lord.”

  “I won’t have you start ‘my lording’ me now. Not after what we’ve shared between us.”

  The thought of the kisses they’d shared made her blush. “The wine? Please?”

  He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “As you wish. But we’ll get you something to eat as well.”

  SIXTY-ONE

  JASON GUIDED Cait back to the refreshment room and handed her a knot biscuit. She nibbled on the braided, anise-flavored bread while he wandered down the buffet table, loading a plate with light fare: asparagus, cubed cheese, an assortment of luscious fruits. Handing her the plate, he filled two more cups with the heady spiced wine.

  Cait looked around for two open seats.

  “I’ve another id
ea.” Jason inclined his head toward the door. “Come along.” Munching a cube of cheese, he led her back through the ballroom and out into the formal garden.

  Burning torches were set about. Cait breathed deep of the night air, refreshingly cool compared to inside. Here and there a couple strolled the garden paths, but mostly it was quiet and serene.

  She followed him out beyond the bright light of the torches, where he sat himself on a low brick wall. Handing her a cup, he took the plate from her and set it down.

  “We cannot see out here,” she complained, seating herself on the other side of the plate.

  “Ah, but we cannot be seen, either.” He plucked a raspberry from a small pile and popped it into his mouth. “Your eyes will adjust.”

  “They’re adjusting already,” she said, feeling lightheaded.

  He selected another raspberry and brought it to her lips. Sweetness burst on her tongue as she bit into it. After she swallowed, he leaned across the plate to drop a light kiss on her lips.

  He pulled away an inch. “Shall we move back near the torches?”

  “Nay. I find I like not being seen.” She leaned closer, bringing her mouth to his again.

  With a satisfied chuckle, he kissed her again, then sat back and sipped from his cup. Next, he fed her an asparagus spear. “Lovely night, is it not?”

  “Mmm.” Anything more intelligible was beyond her at the moment.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go back inside?”

  She shook her head. “Mmm-mmm.”

  When the asparagus was gone, he leaned in for another kiss, taking her chin in one hand, teasing her mouth till she was breathless. He tasted of fruit, spiced wine, and Jason. A most heady combination.

  “I cannot go back inside,” she whispered. “I don’t think my legs would carry me.”

  “Are you cold?”

  “Nay.” But she was shivering. “Aye. I know not.”

  He took her hand and drew her off the wall. “Come here, then. I’ll keep you warm.” And rising, he pulled her to him. His hands wandered to her back, pressing her closer.

  “I’m not cold now,” she murmured against his lips.

  He drew back and sipped from his cup, then tilted it to her lips so she could sip, too. Leaning against the wall, he selected a ripe strawberry, bit into it, and fed her the rest.

  Never had a strawberry tasted so delicious.

  A woman’s high-pitched laugh startled Cait as a couple meandered close. Jason calmly handed her a cup of wine to wash the strawberry down. Hers, his…it didn’t matter. He drained the other cup himself.

  Music tinkled from a distance then abruptly ceased, telling them a door had opened and closed, and the couple had reentered the ballroom.

  Jason unbuttoned his surcoat and spread the sides to envelop her against his warmth, and Caithren moved close, lifting her face for another kiss. The slap and scrape of shoes told them more people were approaching.

  “Confound it.” Jason pulled away, taking the plate in one hand and Caithren’s hand in the other. She scurried to keep up with his long stride while he drew her through two small formal gardens and into a long, arched arbor, the lattice entwined with flowers and climbing vines.

  Halfway through, he stopped and fed her a raspberry. And another. Laughing, she chewed and swallowed. Some juice ran down her chin, and he leaned to kiss it off. The plate between them, he kissed her neck, and a warm shiver rippled through her. He kissed his way up to her ear. “You’re delicious,” he whispered there.

  “You’re very sleekit,” she returned.

  “I’m what?” His lips grazed her forehead.

  “Very…charming.”

  He pulled back and fed her another raspberry. “I thought I was exasperating and unimaginative. Black and white.”

  “Exasperating, aye. But unimaginative…” She leaned forward to eat another raspberry from his fingers. “You’re causing me to reevaluate. You seem to be changing before my very eyes. Or perhaps I was wrong.”

  “You? Wrong?” His laughter rang through the fragrant tunnel. He selected a few raspberries for himself and tossed them into his mouth. “Besides,” he said around them, “the Gypsy woman said that you were supposed to be the creative one. And beguiling, if I recall aright.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “It was my supposed husband she was talking of, not me. And will you never let that go? I told you, she misjudged me.”

  “I think not.” Before she could disagree, he pushed the last raspberry between her lips. “You’re beguiling as anything, Caithren Leslie.”

  Her hands and the plate were all caught between them when he tugged her against him. He was a whole new person tonight, she thought, sinking blissfully into the kiss. Something had changed him. And if that something was her…could he love her? Because she knew in her heart she loved him, no matter that he’d deceived her, and although she’d been unable to admit it, even to herself.

  Until now.

  Her senses swirled at the thought, and the feel of his lips, and the intoxicating fragrance of the flowers overhead blending with his spicy scent. Just when she thought her knees would give out, yet another couple came sauntering down the arbor.

  Jason pulled back with a muttered oath. “What are all these people doing out here?”

  “I imagine they’re wondering the same thing about us.” Cait rubbed the spot where the plate had jabbed into her abdomen. “Why don’t you put that down?”

  “This?” An appalled look on his face, he held up the plate. “There are still three strawberries left.”

  “You can get more inside.”

  “Ah, but I want them outside.” His eyes glittered while a fingertip lightly traced her lips.

  “Please, Jase.” She shivered, but not from the cold. “I don’t think I can stand up any longer. Not…not when you do that.”

  “Hmm.” Looking over her head, he craned his neck to see the back of the garden. “I spy a solution. Come along.” And once more she found herself hurrying after him, holding his hand.

  Through the arbor, a white wooden summerhouse shone in the moonlight. The only opening was in the back, so he walked her around, pulled her inside, and they were alone. Crickets chirped beyond the latticed walls, but other than that, the only sounds they heard were their own uneven breaths.

  “Sit,” Jason said, waving her to the bench that ran along the circular structure’s walls. “Better?”

  “Much. I was…feeling weak there, for a minute.”

  “Good.” Grinning, he set the plate aside and sat close by her. “I hope to have you feeling weaker still in a minute more.” And he lifted her and sat her on his lap.

  She gave a little start of surprise, then looked around, although she knew they were alone. “This feels wicked.”

  “Mmm.” He gave her one slow kiss. “That’s the idea.”

  It was wicked but nice. It gave her perfect access to his face, which she covered with little kisses. His lips drifted in the sensitive hollows beneath her chin and along her throat. She sighed happily. “Oooh, this is very wicked.”

  Laughing low, he kissed a shivery line up her throat to her mouth, then settled softly on her lips. But then he stopped. “I’ve a craving for a strawberry.”

  “What?” She tried to kiss him again, but he wouldn’t permit it.

  “Hold still.” He lifted a berry and bit off half. When he offered her the other half, she shook her head. With a shrug, he finished it and swallowed, then brought his lips to hers, kissing her thoroughly until all the strawberry flavor was gone and her whole world tasted like Jason.

  She wound her arms around his neck, but he stopped her.

  “Not yet. Two left.” He took up the second strawberry.

  She lurched forward and took it in one bite.

  “Tsk, sweet. Now we’ll have to make the final one last that much longer.”

  While Caithren held very still and uncertain, he drew the scratchy tip of the berry over her cheeks, her chin. An
d around to her back, where he traced a tickly pattern on the skin exposed by the deep curve of the dress’s low neckline.

  “What am I writing?” When she shrugged, his face hardened in a mock frown. “Concentrate.”

  Around, up, down…”Caithren!”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  A curve, up, down, a squiggle…”Jason?”

  “Excellent. Now…”

  A big, swooping line that enclosed all he’d written. Could it be…”A heart?”

  “Brilliant. I shall have to reward you.”

  But their names in a heart were reward enough. Could it mean—

  He fed her half the strawberry, then ate the rest himself. “Now,” he murmured against her lips. He wrapped his arms around her to pull her close—

  And another couple stumbled into the summerhouse, mouth to mouth, locked in a torrid embrace.

  With a groan Caithren’s head dropped to Jason’s shoulder. He stifled a strangled laugh. The couple didn’t notice. They fell to the grass in the center and started tearing at each other’s clothing.

  “Don’t they see us?” Cait whispered, stunned.

  “Even if they did, I suspect they’re in no condition to care.” A regretful look on his face, he lifted her with a mighty heave and set her on her feet.

  SIXTY-TWO

  THEY RAN through the gardens, laughing all the way.

  A few feet from the door, Jason pulled Caithren behind a hedge and turned her to face him. He adjusted the curls on her shoulders and kissed her on the lips. “There. You look perfect.”

  Her gaze wandered down his body and back up. “You’ll do,” she proclaimed with another laugh.

  He loved the way she could go from heated to heartfelt to laughing in a split second. Though that meant she could be as quick to anger as well, it was worth it. It was what made her Caithren. It was what made him want her. If only she could still want him after this night.

  He knew he was hoping for the impossible. But all he could do was hope against hope…

  He took a deep breath and opened the door to the music and the dancing and all the people who’d done their best—albeit innocently—to keep him from kissing Caithren this night.