by Dawn Brower
She stepped back and took Ewan’s hand again. “Mo chridhe,” he murmured as his large hand enveloped hers.
Epilogue
“When are Agnes and your aunt arriving?” Ewan was sitting behind her, his arms creating a cocoon of warmth as she read the letter.
“Next week. They’ll stay until the baby comes.” She bit her lip. He wasn’t going to like the next part. “My parents are coming too.”
She felt him groan. It had been a year since they had married and she was now six months pregnant. He hardly allowed her to do a thing, so she was actually eager for the company, but she didn’t want to tell him that.
In the end, her father had finally convinced Ewan to take some small portion of the dowry to make his lands fully operational. But she knew her father. He was already looking for ways to bestow the rest of it on them. The Scots weren’t the only ones who were stubborn. Her father was too. Much like herself.
And the baby, there was no way he wouldn’t be there when the baby came. She’d have to talk to Ewan about granting her parents a parcel of land to build a house on if her father hadn’t already bought one. He’d be coming to Scotland as often as the Queen to visit his grandchildren.
“How long do ye think they’ll stay?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral. She wasn’t fooled.
“Long enough that you might ask Kieran if we can purchase that strip of land between your holdings and his,” she answered honestly without giving too much information.
This time he gave a loud groan. While he’d come to terms with her father, they weren’t a love match by any stretch. “Just so that they don’t always have to stay in our house,” she finished with grin.
He began trailing his hand up her arm as his lips kissed a path down her neck. “I’m going to need plenty of consoling while they’re here.”
She giggled. “Is that right?” Then she turned to give him a soft kiss. “For you, my love, anything.”
“I’d do anything for you too. Even give your parents land right next to us.” He winked. “Do I have to build them a house?”
“You know my father, he’ll want to do it himself and it will give him something to do that keeps him out of your hair.”
He gave her a broad smile. “I’m beginning to like this idea more and more.” His hand slid back down to her arm and onto her growing stomach, gently massaging the skin. It was a tender touch filled with all the love he held for their child. She relaxed back into him.
“Will Fiona be joining yer uncle and aunt when they come?”
She gave a tinkling laugh then. “I don’t know yet. She’s still in the throes of wedded bliss.”
“We’re still in the throes of wedded bliss too.” His resumed his path down her neck, sliding onto her collarbone.
“Our bliss has culminated in a bairn,” she imitated his accent on the last word.
“Once the little lad or lass is out, can we continue with the bliss?” His voice was a low grumble, filled with heat and passion.
“Oh, we’re still in it now, aren’t we?” she gasped as his hand came up to brush her sensitive nipple.
“Most certainly. Now and forever,” he whispered and then they said no more. Their bodies speaking the language of love.
About the Author
More about Tammy
Tammy Andresen lives with her husband and three children just outside of Boston, Massachusetts. She grew up on the Seacoast of Maine, where she spent countless days dreaming up stories in blueberry fields and among the scrub pines that line the coast. Her mother loved to spin a yarn and Tammy filled many hours listening to her mother retell the classics. It was inevitable that at the age of 18, she headed off to Simmons College, where she studied English literature and education. She never left Massachusetts but some of her heart still resides in Maine and her family visits often.
What the Critics are saying:
“The characters are well-developed and interesting, the plot is edge-of-your-seat intriguing, and the setting is one with so much history. If you are a fan of history mixed with mystery and intrigue, you won't be disappointed.” Linda Thompson THE AUTHOR SHOW
“While the relationship between Lily and Eric is the primary focus of this story, the mystery/supense factor is what kept this from being JUST a historical romance. Lily in Bloom was a fast-paced, romantic read that I absoutely LOVED.” http://alysenovak.blogspot.com
”… it held not only a pure romance but the simple magic that goes with it. I was enchanted with this story from the beginning until the end and I didn’t want it to end. I wanted it to go on.” Robin
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Check out Tammy’s bestselling series: Taming the Heart
Taming a Duke’s Reckless Heart
Taming a Duke’s Wild Rose
Taming a Laird’s Wild Lady
Taming a Rake into a Lord
Taming a Savage Gentleman
Taming a Rogue Earl
Scheming with My Duke
Linked Across Time Book Nine
Dawn Brower
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Scheming with My Duke Copyright © 2017 Dawn Brower
Cover art and edits by Victoria Miller
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
You never know where life might take you or which path is the correct one. Don’t let that stop you from taking a leap of faith. Sometimes those are the best kinds of chances. Live, love, and do your best to find your own happiness. In the end that is all you can do. Thanks for taking a chance on me.
Chapter 1
Serenity Drake sat in the garden at Branterberry Castle. If she wasn’t completely bored out of her mind, she might have appreciated the scenery a bit more. The garden had been sculpted in to several different paths. Depending on which one she took, she’d find a vast array of vegetation and floral plants to delight the eye. Certain flowers had more enticing aromas and drew her near. When she’d first seen the garden she’d immediately craved to explore its depths. A week into summer and she was ready to poke her eyes out.
Her duties—taking care of Sebastian Bennett, the little Marquess of Chisenhall—didn’t entail much. She would give him lessons in the morning and then have the afternoons free. The duke didn’t want her to corrupt his son and had only allowed her to be his governess out of respect for Serenity’s sister, Genevieve. Her sister had to return home to save their other sister, Peyton. It had been hard to stay behind, but it was the right choice to make.
Peyton’s visions were never wrong. Genevieve was meant to be in the twenty-first century, and Serenity’s place was with the duke and his son. She just wasn’t sure what that place was. If the duke wasn’t going to allow her to help, she might as well return home. Except she didn’t really want to go… Serenity missed Peyton desperately, and a part of her always would, but Genevieve would make sure she was all right and healed properly from her illness. As for Serenity, the duke and Sebastian needed her. He was being pigheaded and it would take some careful planning to make him realize the truth. Luckily, Serenity’s stubbornness would make her keep fighting. In the end, she’d win and the duke wouldn’t see it coming.
She picked a vibrant red flower and twirled the stem in her hand. Several loops in, she decided to lift it to her nose and take in its wonderful aroma. She had no idea what kind of flower it was, but she liked it. The color called to her, and in
certain light, it almost matched her mahogany-red hair. Although, that was probably an exaggeration on her part—her long locks were actually closer to brown than red, but she liked the highlights brought out by the sun.
Whimsically, she plucked one of the petals off and tossed it over her shoulder, then repeated it a second time. “He loves me,” she said aloud. Then plucked another and repeated, “He loves me.” Serenity continued plucking the petals again and again until she had three left on the flower. Each time, saying over and over, “He loves me.”
“What did that poor flower do to you?” Brandon Bennett, the Duke of Branterberry asked. His voice was filled with a mixture of amusement and befuddlement.
Serenity scrambled to face him, tucking the flower behind her back. How much had he overheard? Her cheeks heated under the hot sun and there was nothing she could do to hide it from him. Perhaps he’d believe it was a little bit of sunburn making them pink.
“Are you spying on me?” she asked him defiantly. Better to deflect than to admit that she’d been playing a silly girlish game. What had possessed her to pick the petals off the flower to begin with?
“It is my home,” he said, lifting a brow. “I don’t have to explain myself.” He reached around and plucked the flower from her hand and held it before her. “You, however, are defacing some of the flora in my garden.”
Drat. Was he going to bellow at her for something so stupid as picking a flower? Well, she wasn’t going to allow him to dictate to her. Perhaps he should be on the defensive for once. He didn’t like it much when she read him. She tilted her head and studied his aura. As usual, secrets and lies swirled around him. This spymaster kept it all close and didn’t let anyone in. How many people did he protect with his clandestine information?
“You were watching me,” she said moving closer to him. “Did you see something you liked?”
The duke backed away from her. His nostrils flared as he studied her. “I have better things to do than such inane a thing as spying on you.”
Oh, he was backpedaling now. He protested a little too much. The duke had Peeping-Tom-like qualities—without the weirdness. She could use that to her advantage. He didn’t appreciate her calling him out on them. Bully for him. Boredom made her do impetuous things, and he was about to become her new toy.
She stepped forward and brought her hand up to his chest, skimming it downward until it rested on his stomach. “So, Your Grace,” she said seductively. “How often do you find the need to spy on me?” She trailed her fingers down and skimmed the top of his trousers. “Have you seen me in…” She leaned in closer and said in a hushed tone, “Nothing at all?”
He sucked in a breath and stared down at her. His cheeks flushed to a bright red and his breathing became uneven. “I would never,” he said. The duke cleared his throat. “How dare you impugn my name in such a manner. I’m a gentleman.”
Serenity laughed and took a step back. Oh, how she loved to mess with him. “My darling, duke,” she said. “You’re a spy first and foremost and, as much as you like to protest the idea, you are very much a hot-blooded male.” She winked. “Who happens to like what he sees before him. Deny it all you want, but if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times.” She smiled and boldly met his gaze. “I see you. All of you. There’s nothing you can hide from me. You best become accustomed to that fact as long as I’m here.” Serenity couldn’t fathom why he hadn’t already…
At least he’d already forgotten about that blasted flower and her little game. That had been a close call. The duke glared at her as if she would burst into flames from ire alone. Poor man. He had no clue how to deal with her. One day he’d stop fighting what she already knew. They had an abundance of desire brewing between them. As soon as they gave into it, they’d find out how combustible they were together.
“You talk too much,” he gritted out. “For all your claims of seeing me, I feel it’s important I let you in on a little secret.”
“Oh?” she tilted her head. “What’s that?”
He was trying to flip things over to his advantage. She couldn’t let him do that, but her curiosity had overcome her. What secrets could he have to impart? She waited on bated breath.
“I may not have your gifts,” he said tightly. “But I have a few of my own that are comparable when it comes to hidden information.”
She bet he did. He wasn’t the premier spymaster in England for no reason. Serenity would uncover all of the things he wanted to hide, and then what would he do? There would be no barriers between them, and they’d have to figure out what they wanted from each other. She couldn’t wait for that day to come. Amusement flooded her from the inside out. She couldn’t contain it all from spilling forth and burst into laughter. “I’m so sorry,” she said, wiping a tear away. “Were you supposed to be all foreboding or something?”
He growled. An actual real growl that rumbled forth and vibrated out of his mouth. Serenity’s insides curled up and came to attention. Oh, yes, do that again. She didn’t dare say that little tidbit aloud though. Maybe, if she stayed in the past, she would do so, but in this moment, they were still in the foreplay stage. It was a dance of sorts. She’d push him to the brink of frustration and then he’d storm away only to return again for more. He’d yet to push back at her in a way that would make her storm away. For months, they’d played this game with little to no results. Serenity wanted it to advance to the next stage, but how to push him toward her goal eluded her. What would it take to make him kiss her the way she kept imagining? She was waiting for him to give as much as she threw in his direction. When that happened, they could move on to the next step. Serenity wanted him. All that he had to offer, but not until he was ready. The duke was fighting her every step of the way. Fortunately for him, she had patience for the both of them.
“You’re an unnatural female,” he complained. “What did I ever do to have you thrust upon me?”
He said that often enough it rolled off her as nothing. The duke really had to come up with better responses. It had become too easy for her to deflect it and counter with something nonchalant. She shrugged. “I suppose you’re just lucky that way.”
“You and I have entirely different views on what constituted good fortune,” he said in an affronted tone.
Maybe if she’d been born in the nineteenth century she’d share his views. Being from the twenty-first century, she’d been raised to be a strong, independent female. Nothing would ever make her bow down and be a damsel in distress. She could not only take care of herself, but did so on a regular basis. Her decision to stay back while Genevieve returned to donate her bone marrow to safe Peyton had been hers, and hers alone. It had given Genevieve the push to return when she’d been digging her heels in. No doubt her newly discovered sister had also finally admitted she still loved Trenton too. Everything, and everyone, were where they belonged. Serenity might toy with the idea of going back to her own time, but in truth she never would. Nothing would entice her to give up on the duke.
Serenity grinned. “Don’t worry,” she said. “In time, you’ll appreciate me.”
“If I don’t die first,” he muttered under his breath.
He was adorable. His dark hair was ruffled from the wind. She couldn’t help wishing she’d been the one to tousle it into such disarray. Her duke, and she fully believed he belonged with her, was incredibly gorgeous. Olive green eyes framed by ink-black lashes, full lips meant to bestow kisses, and midnight hair that appeared silky. If she found out how soft it really was, she’d never be able to stop touching him. Who was she kidding? Once she put her hands on him in anyway there was no stopping her.
“I’d never allow it,” she replied. “You and I have much to accomplish before you leave this world.” Inwardly, she shuddered at the idea of him dying. She’d prevent it from ever happening if she could.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”
Tongue in cheek she giggled. “No, you’re not. But
don’t worry I’m not going to push. We have time before we go down that particular road.”
He twirled the flower he’d confiscated from her between his fingers. “Does it have something to do with what you were doing to this poor bloom?”
Hell. She’d hoped he’d forgotten about that darn thing. It appeared as if her luck wasn’t holding out as she’d hoped. The man saw entirely too much. Had he overheard her mutterings though? If he had, how was she to explain it?
“Of course not,” she said dismissively. “I was lonely and a tiny bit bored. The flower amused me for a time.”
He stared down at it. Three lonely petals remained attached. “Did you figure it out?” he asked cryptically.
“What?”
Please don’t ask about the love me part… She didn’t want to admit that the petal picking had everything to do with him and what she hoped they might find together. Her feelings were so entangled inside of her, she didn’t know if she was going up or falling down.
“If he loves you?” He lifted a brow. “Who is it you’re hoping is under your spell?”
He almost sounded—jealous? Dare she hope he was? Instead of addressing it and asking outright, she decided to play coy. Serenity rolled her eyes. “I am not one of your underlings you can trick into answering you.”
She wouldn’t mind being under him in a different way though… Bad Serenity. It was not the time for such thoughts. He wasn’t ready to fall into bed with her and discover a passion that burned brighter than the sun.
“My dear, you are not an ingénue either,” he said, glancing down and stopping momentarily at her bosom, then slowly raising his gaze up to meet hers. “However, I do give you credit for trying. I’ve dealt with a lot of females, and you’re rather difficult to unravel. I’m not entirely sure I want to.” He held the flower out to her. “I am rather curious what kind of man draws you in though. He must be rather brave or maybe even stupid to fall into your trap.”
