Climbing into bed, he crossed his hands behind his head and wondered how long it would take to get Emily in his bed. Then he thought of how she had been cooking and serving his supper for days now and grinned. Emily had been forced to do things most gentry women never had to do and he had to marvel at how well she had managed. She had insisted on scrubbing their home as it had never been scrubbed before and she spent a lot of hours trying to drum the skill of reading into his head and those of his brothers. She was unlike any gentry lady he had ever seen.
Now he needed to get a few names and such from Emily so he could round up some allies. It would not be easy because he would not be able to meet with them face-to-face and judge their trustworthiness himself but it still needed to be done. There had to be someone in her family that would understand what was happening and come to her aid. He decided the duke she spoke of was probably the one to get in touch with. It was his title and lands Albert sought to grab. Once he got rid of Emily and Neddy what was to stop the man from killing the duke? It would not be easy but that had not stopped him from killing off the man’s son and his wife.
It was a sad mess, he decided, and he was glad they had none of these problems in his family. The MacEnroys had no land, no fortune, no power and never had. It had often angered him but he could find some reason to be grateful for it now. Everything he had he had built with his brothers, their safety always at the fore of his mind. They owned all they held and could only lose it through their own mistake, not just because someone decided cattle deserved grazing more than people deserved a place to live.
Emily had tried to do the same with her sister. She had struggled to get her sister to safety and keep her safe. He blinked as that thought wound through his mind and knew that it had settled deep in his heart when he was not looking. He knew he no longer had that surge of anger when he thought of her heritage. It was gone for good.
Now he needed to decide what he really wanted from Lady Emily Stanton. Iain grinned. He knew what he wanted to do. With his confused feelings finally sorted out he decided he could work on that. Whatever happened with all the lands, titles, and money, he planned to bed Miss Emily Stanton.
Chapter Ten
“Shut the gates behind us,” said Matthew.
“Aye, Mother,” Iain drawled as he lifted Neddy and placed him in the buggy next to Maeve.
Matthew just grunted. Mrs. O’Neal was headed to visit with her family who were staying at the boardinghouse in town. It had come as a total surprise to the woman and she had been a bundle of nerves since she got the news. The whole family was headed to California and she wanted to see them. Neddy was going because he wanted to and Mrs. O’Neal had happily included him. Once they were all settled, his brothers were going to patrol the area to see if any men were looking for Emily and Neddy.
After they had ridden off, Iain shut and barred the gates. Emily had wanted to keep Neddy with her. Still shaken by the men coming to the house where she had thought the two of them well hidden, she had been wary of letting the boy out of her sight ever since. A week later and it had still taken a lot of persuasion from him and Mrs. O’Neal to convince her the boy would be safe, would appear to be no more than yet another child in a large family.
Iain walked back into the house and paused to savor the quiet for a moment. He loved his brothers, even loved Mrs. O’Neal and her children, but there were times when the house felt entirely too crowded. To get some time to just think, he often had to go to his room or find the needed solitude outside. Now he had a few hours of an empty house and he had no intention of using the time alone to do anything but be with Emily.
He walked into the kitchen to find Emily kneading bread. The look of concentration on her face was intense. Obviously, he and Mrs. O’Neal had not fully calmed her nerves concerning Neddy leaving the safety of the house. Iain still found it hard to accept that anyone would hire men to kill off an entire family right down to a boy of three, but there was no denying the sad truth of the battle he had been drawn into.
“I think ye can overdo that if ye are nay careful,” he said quietly as he stepped up to the table.
Emily stopped and stared at the dough under her hands for a moment before putting it on a board and draping a cloth over it. She then carried it over to the counter and set it down next to the other three she had done. Her arms ached, she realized, and she sighed as she began to clean up the mess she had made, then cleaned off herself. All the time she did she was fully aware of the man silently watching her.
“He will be fine,” Iain said when she poured herself a glass of cool cider. “I would like one of those, too, please.”
She poured one for him and brought them both over to the table. They sat opposite each other and Emily tried very hard not to look at him. At some point during the cleanup she had shifted from being terribly afraid for Neddy to being far too aware that they were alone together. They did not have to worry that someone might walk in on them kissing.
Then her eyes met his and inwardly cursed. There was definitely a look on his face that told her he was also intensely aware of how alone they were and he had plans. Emily was not sure she would be able to refuse his plans. She was not sure she would want to.
“I know he will be fine,” she said. “You are right. He will be well hidden in a crowd of people. I do not think any of these men who hunt us actually know what he looks like, just that they should kill any small child they find with us.”
“All this blood just to get a title,” he murmured, and shook his head.
“It happens more than you think. Enough so that many people attending a funeral wonder if the man’s collapse was truly because of a bad heart or a nudge from his heir. And it is not just a title, is it. It is the land, the money, and the power that comes with it. With all the Stantons dead, there is no one to dispute him.”
“Weel, the men I had Daniel write to for me will find something.”
“If there is anything to find. The attacks are coming here now. Too many will decide it is just an unavoidable danger that comes with this new country. The English do see you all as uncivilized here, almost like a place that is here to take the poor in when they flee from England.”
“How kind of them. There are rich English here.”
“Oh, yes, but they probably became rich through business. Very unacceptable.”
He grinned at her tone, one of pure sarcasm. “I do miss Scotland though.”
“And I miss England. The hedgerows to the cathedrals.” She shrugged. “But there is beauty here. One just has to become accustomed to the differences. Like that spot on the trail you showed me where the hills turned rocky and if you look over the edge there is water. On the other side of the water there is a lovely treed spot which is clearly and beautifully reflected in the water.”
Iain smiled. “I know the place. Have a few drawings of it and am thinking of painting it.”
He had spoken almost absently and it took her a moment to understand what he was saying. “You paint?”
Nodding reluctantly for he had not meant to let that secret out, he said, “Nay as well as my father, but good enough. My father did all the paintings of Scotland we have.”
“They are very beautiful, very peaceful to look at. He was admirably skilled. Did he sell paintings?”
“Aye, when he could. Sold a lot when we stayed in Glasgow until we could afford the voyage over here. There was a lot of work in the city but the pay was poor so we all worked. It was my father’s paintings which got us the most money. We were on our way out faster than any before us. He painted while we were sailing here and sold them when we got to New York and that helped pay for our journey here.” He smiled with an odd mixture of sadness and amusement. “I was the only one interested and he showed me all he could in the time he had.”
“He passed on his skills,” she said softly. “That would have pleased him a great deal.”
“Aye, I think it did.” He finished his drink and stood up. “I need to do a f
inal check on all the animals. Will ye feel all right here alone? If not, ye can come along.”
“No, I shall be fine. I will start supper soon.”
Iain just nodded and strode away. He decided the work that needed doing came at a good time. Sitting there talking with her, knowing they were alone, had his thoughts going to all he wanted to do with her. Later, he promised himself. He was going to ignore the voice scolding him for his plans for a woman who was undoubtedly a virgin and that voice that warned he was sinking more deeply into the trap all women were for a man. If Emily Stanton was a trap, he would step into it willingly and not spend any time worrying about the consequences.
* * *
Emily decided to make a stew. The bread was baking and would go well with a stew. It would also be easily warmed up when the others returned home. She had to decide on what to have for dessert. Mrs. O’Neal had made it abundantly clear that the men of this house had a sweet tooth that needed some feeding as badly as their stomachs did. She had no intention of displacing Mrs. O’Neal but had to admit it was nice to have the kitchen to herself for just a while.
For a short while she could pretend it was her house, her kitchen. It was a foolish fancy, if only because she would never put Mrs. O’Neal out of a job, but Emily enjoyed it and soon the kitchen was full of the good smell of stew and bread. She fussed over a dessert and realized she was trying hard to impress Iain with her culinary skills. Shaking her head at her own foolishness she set the table and was just filling the glasses with milk when he walked in.
“Something smells good,” he said as he sat down opposite her place at the table.
“That is a relief. It is the first time I have prepared a meal all by myself. Well, except for the ones I cooked for my sister.” Emily filled their bowls, put the bread and butter on the table, and took her seat.
After tasting the stew, Iain smiled. “She must have been pleased.”
“I suspect so. David was and often said so. I fear each of his compliments made Annabel less, well, appreciative of my efforts.”
“Jealousy. A poison, my mither always called it.”
“It is in a way, isn’t it. Annabel also sorely missed the food she was accustomed to. I tried to make some things that were similar to ease her homesickness but they did not match her memories.”
“I doubt anything ye did would have worked.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She did not want to leave, did she? She liked being a lady of the manor. She liked all that went with that position. Aye, she wed the wrong man but I suspect she never thought it would drastically change her life. And ye were only here for a few years so she hadnae yet accustomed herself to the change in her circumstances.”
“You and your brothers accepted.”
“Not immediately and it was a while before we saw the good in what we now had. We concentrated on survival. By the time we kenned we had succeeded the worst of the yearning had passed. Oh, we still have memories but I am nay longer sure they are true ones or just the lingering fancies of the children we were then. We both lost what really mattered, didnae we.”
“Our parents,” she whispered, and sighed when he nodded.
They ate the meal and Iain praised her apple-berry cobbler. Then they moved into the parlor to her surprise, for the family rarely gathered there, and he served her a glass of wine. He sat next to her on the settee, and she had to turn away, hoping he did not see her blush. She concentrated on her wine and suddenly he was there, achingly close to her.
Iain took her glass of wine and set it on the table next to his before pulling her into his arms for a kiss. She knew he was going to kiss her and dreaded it all going sour as it so often had in the past. Yet, when his mouth touched hers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tightly, letting him pull her close to himself. A little voice told her she should say no, push him away. Emily ignored it. Iain was big, strong, and the warmth of him seeped deep inside her as he held her in his arms. She had no inclination to push that away. His kiss made everything inside her go wild and hungry and she was a little uncertain of such strong feelings, ones she had never experienced before.
Talking over dinner was torturous enough, Iain thought, when his mind had kept taunting him with soft images of what he wanted to do with her. He ran his hands up her rib cage and slowly over her breasts. The way the tips grew hard and burned against his palms made him anxious to strip them bare, to kiss them. Something he could not do in the parlor, he suddenly thought.
Standing up, he grabbed her by the hand and led her up the stairs. She was still lightly flushed with desire when he led her into his room and shut the door. He pulled her back into his arms as he gently walked her back to the bed. He kissed her, her lips warm and giving beneath his, her body moving against him in clear eagerness.
Emily trembled when he pushed her down onto his bed, pressing himself against her. She could feel his hardness nestle between her thighs and found herself lifting her hips up slightly to rub against him. The feel of him made her insides cramp with hunger and she shivered. The way her body was reacting to his kisses shocked her yet she did not push away the feeling. She found it all too wonderful to force him to stop.
Then his long fingers were undoing the bodice of her gown as he kissed her throat and each new bit of bare skin exposed to him. Emily put her hands on his chest thinking to push him back only to find her hands touching warm, taut skin. Beneath one of her palms she could feel the hard beat of his heart. She opened her eyes to see her palms on his chest and the passion she was struggling to understand soared. Smoothing her hands over his chest, she reveled in the heat of his skin and the light brush of hair she found there. She had the strong urge to kiss him there but fear of acting too boldly held her back.
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when Iain pulled the front of the gown down, gently easing her arms out of the sleeves. That slipped into the haze of desire she had been under, cooling the heat of it, and Emily crossed her hands over her chest when he also tugged down her shift. He was raised above her staring down at her breasts and Emily was suddenly all too aware of her near nakedness. No man had ever seen her unclothed, even partly.
“Iain,” she began, and he kissed her before she could continue.
Emily sank beneath the force of her own desire. She could feel Iain’s desire; it was hot and greedy. That greed fed her own needs and she began to move her hands over his back, sliding down until she cupped his backside. He groaned into her mouth and moved against her. He gently stroked her stomach, telling her all the while how beautiful and soft she was, then slid his hands inside her pantaloons. She was just beginning to tense up, afraid of such an unknown intimacy when he touched her there, stroked her, and she gasped as she lost all inclination to pull away. Part of her was afraid of everything going so fast while another part reveled in the greed she could not seem to control.
Iain felt the damp heat of welcome beneath his fingers and nearly groaned. He kissed her hungrily as he undid his pants. The way she moved her hand over his chest, his back, even his backside, told him her passions were riding her as hard as his were him. Despite that as he settled himself between her restless legs, ready to make her his, he still asked, needing to hear her accept him.
“Emily,” he said, “do ye want me?”
“I am here, am I not? Do you need a yes?”
“Aye.”
“Then, yes, Iain. Are you ready now then?”
He laughed softly and gently joined his body with hers. When her heat surrounded him he gritted his teeth, determined not to find his release with the embarrassing speed of an untried lad. Then she wrapped her arms and legs around him and he began to move. Every move she made, the soft sounds that escaped her revealing her pleasure, all worked to fire his need until he feared he would be done before she got the satisfaction she needed.
Then he felt her tighten around him and Iain nearly yelled out in relief. He kissed her, smothering her cry of release as his
tore through him. He collapsed upon her but kept his wits about him just enough to fall a little to the side. As he gently stroked her back and her hair, he kissed her cheeks. Finally, he met her gaze, braced for shock or repudiation but she smiled at him shyly.
“What are ye thinking, lass?” he asked.
“That breaking every rule should not be such fun or so pleasurable.” She frowned as he chuckled, a bit hurt that he whispered no words of love to her but told herself they would come when he was ready.
Iain gently kissed her breasts and then got out of bed. He came back in a moment with a warm damp cloth and bathed her off. Emily tried not to blush but knew she failed. He chuckled softly as he settled down next to her, pulling her into his arms.
“We shouldnae linger here as someone might be home soon,” he said as he slowly ran his hands over her body as if trying to mark every rise and hollow.
“Oh.” That was a cold slap of reality for Emily and she tugged the blankets up over her breasts. “You are right.” She looked around. “Where are my clothes?”
Iain gave her her clothes and grabbed his own, ashamed to see that he had not bothered to take much off. As he dressed he kept a close eye on her. She was beginning to act shy and, he feared, ashamed of herself. Once she did up her gown he leaned over her and brushed a kiss over her mouth.
“Leaving this bed is the last thing I want to do but it is best if we do. I cannae judge when the rest will begin to return.”
“I know.”
For the first time he caught a hint of shame in her eyes. “Shall we go for a ride?”
“A ride?” she said as she got out of the bed and adjusted her clothes then began to put on her shoes. “Is it not dark?”
“Not very. Still but dusk out. There are other things we can do.”
Emily let him take her by the arm and lead her out of the room. It felt odd. They had just made love and now acted as if all was normal. Nothing felt normal for her. It had been something she suspected she would think of for a very long time and probably too often. But then, she thought, with a quick sideways glance at Iain, perhaps for a man it was not such a meaningful experience.
The Scotsman Who Saved Me Page 12
