Abby ran her fan against along her collarbone and turned her face away from him, sliding a step deeper into the shadows. “Perhaps.”
To her satisfaction, Richard followed. A roguish grin turned up the corner of his gorgeous mouth drawing her attention so fully that Abby nearly missed what he was saying. “What I mean is, the Abby Merrill I recall from years past was a hoyden and a brat. A grubby lass. Ye’ve become Lady Abygail in the years since, an incredibly lovely, sophisticated lady. Ye were always engaging, yet now yer aloof.”
“Aloof?” Abby asked in surprise, dropping the seductive pose she had been holding. True, she hadn’t a lot of experience in the art of flirtation, but she’d seen Oona in similar situations with positive results. “How am I aloof?”
“Ye’re out here alone in the dark, greeting an old friend, a soldier back from war, without even a smile?” he asked. “Where is the lass I remember?”
“Perhaps that girl is gone.”
“That would be too bad,” he responded, moving closer until he was able to trace a finger across the back of her free hand. “For I loved her dearly.”
Abby’s back touched the wall and she leaned against it as Richard prowled into the darkness after her. For all his banter, he did seem to be sounding more flirtatious than brotherly. It bolstered her confidence. “Perhaps you might love the lady I’ve become as dearly.”
“Ahh but ladies are not for sisterly affection,” he said softly, employing his voice as a lethal weapon still.
“What kind of affection are they for then?” she whispered, tilting her head back to look at him.
“Yer far too young to know.”
A slow smile curled Abby’s lip. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined luring Richard MacKintosh into a dark corner. Even if her imaginings would have carried her so far, she would never have dreamed that the seductive brogue she had heard so long ago might be directed at her. This was her moment. Her moment, to take what she wanted. The shadows gave her strength. Hidden in their depths, Abby felt bold… wild, even, for the first time in years. More like herself. More like the person she wanted to be.
As she hadn’t in an age, she had the confidence and circumstances to make something happen for herself. She embraced the moment. “I would wager not.”
With that, Abby pressed herself against her long-lost love and looped an arm around his neck. Pulling his head down, her lips met his in a kiss filled with all the longing she had felt over the last ten years.
Richard jerked in shock. He had been enjoying their flirtatious banter perhaps more than he should. Abby’s transformation into this sultry seductress had set his groin aching with unexpected arousal. Still, he hadn’t expected this.
Despite his intention to pull away, the feel of her dewy lips clinging to his filled him with unanticipated hunger. Giving himself over to the sensation, he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her back hungrily. The emptiness and loneliness he’d felt for the past month poured out of him.
Lifting her off her feet, he pulled the length of her body against his. A growl of pleasure started deep in his throat as her fingers plunged into his hair and curled, pulling and urging his mouth to explore more deeply. He did, parting her lips and sweeping his tongue across hers. Feeling a tremor shake her as he did so.
It was wrong, all so wrong. Abby was a friend. Her brother, a friend as well. But despite his admonitions to himself, upon finding her alone on the terrace that he treat her like one, Richard had known within moments of hearing her speak that he wouldn’t be able to do so. She was no longer Abby, the brat who had followed him about as a child, but rather Abby, the temptress who might lead him about with ease should she ever learn of the power she suddenly had over him.
Richard wanted her in a way that felt so right. Bloody hell, what was he thinking? Abby was no seductress, his logical mind argued. She was an innocent young lass. A debutante.
Her lips parted beneath his with a sigh and Richard groaned in return. “Abby, angel,” he moaned against her lips. “My God, what are we doing?”
Rough hands yanked him away from Abby then and Richard turned to find a pair of angry golden eyes glaring down at him.
Chapter 13
It is one of the blessings of old friends
that you can afford to be stupid with them.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
“Well, ye better not be doing what I think ye’re doing, Richard MacKintosh, or ye’ll find yerself wi’ my boot up yer arse!”
“Merrill, old chap,” Richard returned calmly, straightening his jacket. Jack Merrill was a life long friend. He had been school chum and mate. They had drank together, fought together and laughed together. Of course, Richard had never kissed Jack’s sister before either.
“Don’t ye ‘old chap’ me, MacKintosh,” Abby’s older brother glowered at him. “What do ye think ye were doing wi’ my sister?”
Richard looked back at Abby. God, but she looked delicious… and curious as well. She raised a brow at him and Richard couldn’t help but ask with a roguish grin, “What was I doing?”
Abby choked on a snort of laughter that recalled the lass he had known years before. As if sharing a joke with him, she shrugged at her brother nonchalantly, offering, “Saying ‘hullo’?”
“Is that how you’re making you’re greetings these days, ye brat?” Jack growled, not appreciating his sister’s humor.
“Only to long-lost friends,” she said and Richard could almost see her feathers ruffling. One thing about Abby, she’d never enjoyed being on the receiving end of a lecture. “For a long-lost brother, who hasn’t even bothered to greet me properly yet, I will just do this.”
Abby walked into her brother’s arms and wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly before scolding. “Where have you been?”
“Paris. Rome.” Jack shrugged but hugged Abby fiercely in return. “It seems I returned at the perfect time.”
Abby’s brows snapped together as she drew back to glare at her brother. “I haven’t seen you in three years and you think this is the perfect time? I haven’t even had a letter from you since Father decided to drag me down here, and this is the perfect time?”
“Aye, just in time to save you from yourself.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest.
“I don’t need you to save me from myself, Jack, nor from Richard, just in case that’s what you’re about to say next.” Abby’s hands were already on her hips as she chastised Jack fiercely, much to Richard’s enjoyment. Here was the Abby he remembered. She’d always been a bossy wee lass. “What I needed you to save me from was this Season. Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? I have no one here. I was counting on you and you’ve been off to Paris and Rome? Were you sipping champagne from some lady’s slipper while Father planned to marry all of us off?”
That got Richard’s attention, reminding him that he still wasn’t certain whose engagement ball this was. Surely, if Abby were about to become betrothed to that Aylesbury fellow, she wouldn’t have been alone out on the terrace teasing him.
Kissing him.
Bloody hell, Richard still couldn’t believe that he had been bussing Abby Merrill in a dark corner. What might he have done if Jack hadn’t shown up so conveniently?
“Bah, there’s not a man on earth who would wed you, lass,” Jack bit out in a way that only squabbling siblings might and Richard leaned back in amusement, waiting for Abby to cut him up in equal fashion. Instead, Abby stern expression fell and Jack’s instantly followed suit. His voice went from taunting to plaintive. A tone Richard had never heard from him. “Here now, lass. That’s not what I meant.”
What was this, Richard wondered. He’d never seen Jack look so mournful and Abby appeared to be on the verge of tears. Jack reached out to stroke Abby’s shoulder but Abby jerked away, wrapping her arms about her waist as if she were in pain.
What was going on?
“Abs.”
“I better be getting back inside,” Abby said quietly
. “I’m sure the announcement will be made soon. Oona will expect me to be there with a smile on my face.”
“Abs,” Jack implored, but Abby just shrugged him off. “Bloody hell, lass. Fine then, but I will see ye in the morning. Maybe by then ye’ll ha’ realized I meant no harm.”
The Abby Richard had seen last night was once again firmly in place. She was coolly composed, in a world apart from the rest of them. To Richard’s surprise, she turned away and headed for the door without any further word to either of them. Richard stepped forward, stopping her with a hand on her arm. He’d be damned if she was just going to walk away without explanation. “Abby, might I escort you back in?”
Abby looked back at him, then into the brightly lit ballroom through the terrace doors. She seemed to consider it for a moment before shaking her head. “No thank you, Richard. I… uh, I think not.”
“A dance then?”
“No, thank you.
“Abby…”
“No, Richard.” Abby looked back at Jack, a wealth of meaning in her gaze that Richard couldn’t decipher before she shook head turning back to Richard. “It-it was lovely to see you again, Richard. It truly was.”
Richard watched Abby sweep serenely away, wondering at her parting words. She made it sound as if she never expected to see him again. He didn’t understand her at all. He was certain he hadn’t offended her in any way. The initiation of their kiss had been hers. It had been much too enjoyable to regret. Of that, he was certain.
Snorting, Richard realized that there was one thing he hadn’t missed about women these past several years. They were a confusing lot to be sure. “What was all that?”
“I’m just a bigger bastard than I thought,” Jack replied with a shrug.
“I’ve always known that,” Richard retorted. “Glad to know you’ve finally accepted it as well.”
“Aren’t ye just a chuckle?” The two men moved toward the door and stepped just inside. “Yer lucky I don’t give you a good anointing for what I just saw there.”
“You needn’t worry about it, Jack,” Richard said. Abby was across the ballroom now. Gone was the harridan who had laid so fiercely into Jack just moments ago. Once again, she was Lady Abygail, cool as ice. Beautiful as she was, that Abby didn’t boil his blood as easily as the sultry siren he’d kissed to on the terrace.
“I bloody well am worried about it,” Jack growled.
“It was a momentary lapse,” Richard argued. “I was just so surprised to see her…” He trailed off waving a hand at Abby.
“Looking like that?” Jack sighed, as if Richard mystification was no mystery to him.
“Aye, looking like that.”
“She’s always had the face of an angel, Richard,” Jack said. “There is nothing new there.”
“There is much new, but as I said you needn’t worry,” Richard repeated. “She is too young to flirt with.”
Jack looked at his friend in surprise. “Just how old do you think my sister is, Richard?”
“I’m not certain exactly. Seventeen? Eighteen?”
With a bark of laughter, Jack slapped Richard on the back. “I’m not saying you should rethink your position on flirting with my sister, but I do think ye might need to check your math on her age.” Jack took a step away only to turn back with a frown. “Just so we’re clear, if ye touch her, I’ll kill you.”
“Point taken, but just so we’re absolutely clear, I am only in London to get the help I need to search out Vin and Jace. Nothing more. You’re sister is safe with me.”
Jack coughed out a harsh laugh. “That’s what they all say. I’d have to say…”
“Bloody fookin’ hell.”
Chapter 14
The most I can do for my friend
is simply to be his friend.
- Henry David Thoreau
It wasn’t so much the words themselves that caused both men to turn, but rather, the harsh, angry brogue that spoke them. Richard could feel Jack stiffen next to him, but when Jack spoke, his voice was lazily sardonic as he offered a bow. “Good evening to you as well, Father.”
“What the fook are ye doing here?” The Earl of Haddington raged as soon as he within earshot. “Yer not welcome here! Get out.”
“Actually, I’m very welcome here, thank you. I’ve a personal invitation from our hostess herself,” Jack drawled. “Imagine my surprise upon meeting Lady Boughton in the park this morning that my sister was having an engagement ball this very night. It seems my invitation was lost in the post.”
A thunderous rage darkened the earl’s expression. “An invitation wasn’t posted to ye and ye know why.”
“Why, Jack! Is that you?” came a sensual coo from the woman sidling up beside the earl. She hung on Haddington’s arm, flashing Jack a languid smile.
Were it possible, Richard felt Jack’s body tense even more. “Still haven’t told the truth of it, Oona? Protecting anyone in particular?”
Ahh, Richard’s brows raised with recognition realizing that the woman was none other than Jack and Abby’s stepmother. Though he had spent many a summer as a lad with the Merrill clan and knew most of the family well enough, Richard hadn’t been to Glen Sannox House since Abby’s mother’s funeral. However, he had heard enough about Oona Seton Merrill to recoil from an introduction.
“Who’s your friend?” she asked, sliding Richard a sidelong glance.
“Shut it, Oona,” Haddington bit out. “And ye, out!”
Stubbornly, Jack crossed his arms over his broad chest and stood toe to toe with his father while Oona eyed Richard with some speculation right there in front of her husband. That long, hot appraisal turned Richard’s stomach. With her dark coloring and inviting eyes, she reminded him of Francis’ wife, Vanessa, and her attempts long ago to lure him or his brother, James, into her bed. “I should be finding my brother about now.”
Jack shot him an unforgiving glare from narrowed eyes, but Richard just shrugged. What could Jack expect? They were friends, and while he might have stood by Jack’s side through a confrontation with his sire, Richard considered bearing Oona’s somewhat infamous company to be a sacrifice that far exceeded friendship.
“Surely you’re not leaving just yet. Our little announcement is about to be made. It is why we’re all here, isn’t it?” Oona’s voice was syrupy sweet as if she were completely oblivious to the tightly wound tension between father and son.
Richard hesitated. Was it worth lingering in such unpleasant company to finally have an answer to the question that had kept him wondering all day? Given the position he was suddenly in, he wasn’t sure.
“Isn’t that why you’re here, Jack?” Oona carried on, reaching out to stroke Jack’s sleeve. The earl’s face turned an even darker shade of red.
“I’m here to support my sister. Something I haven’t been able to do in years, thanks to you,” Jack bit out, shaking off her hand.
“Oh come now, Jack,” his stepmother drawled, “you’re not still angry at me, are you? Haddington isn’t angry, are you dear?”
“Piss off, lad, before I’m forced to drag ye out of here,” Haddington growled under his breath. Richard could see that the earl was on the verge of violence and was restraining himself admirably, but some in the crowd had already turned to watch them. Doubtless, they were hoping for a scene to lighten their perpetual boredom. “All of this is a problem of yer own making.”
“I’m sure you like to think so,” Jack threw back, “rather than pin the blame where it belongs. How is my brother, by the way?”
“Cullen, poor lad, is in Edinburgh seeing to business,” Oona offered, drawing Jack’s black stare back to her.
“I meant my other brother.”
Haddington roared with anger and flung himself at his son, but Jack was ready for him, throwing his weight forward as the earl caught him around the waist. A lesser man would have been tackled to the floor, but though Haddington was a burly old Scot, Jack was taller, more muscular and stronger. Not to mention, angrier.
It was a long, bitter battle that Richard had heard about via letters for years but had never witnessed in person. Oona was a rare slut of a wife to Jack’s father, according to his friend. Having wed a man more than thirty years her senior who – Richard firmly suspected – she had anticipated passing on to his eternal reward shortly after the nuptials, Oona ended up being disappointed by almost every aspect of marriage. At his age, Haddington had been more interested in his hounds and his ale, and had remarried primarily to find another woman to mother his young children and run his households.
Oona did neither as smoothly as Judith Boughton had. Nor was she inclined to simply live a quiet life at Glen Sannox House as either of the former Countesses of Haddington had been. Oona wanted adventure and a young virile lover to replace the older one. Almost a decade ago, she had decided to favor Jack as that man.
When he hadn’t obliged her, she moved on Jack’s older brother, Cullen. Richard knew Cullen, as eldest and heir, had always been the old earl’s favorite while Jack had been his mother’s devoted son. Oona had become pregnant, much to Haddington’s joy until that son, Alexander, had been born with dark golden eyes, very unlike the earl’s or Cullen’s but very much like Jack’s.
The earl accused Jack of seducing his wife while Jack had honorably refused to volunteer the truth, waiting for Oona to do so. She never did, and Jack had been banished from Glen Sannox House and Haddington’s presence ever since. As a result, Jack saw his sisters only on occasion at Rose Lawn Coppice. Instead, in the years since, Jack had been a frequent lodger with the MacKintosh clan, becoming more brother than friend.
Questions for a Highlander Page 8
