by Aubrey Wynne
“Y-ye are a good man, Calum MacNaughton, just as my father said.” She blew her nose on the cloth she’d been holding to her eyes. Her eyes widened as she realized it was his neckcloth. The tears sprang up again. “I’m so sorry,” she sniffed as she swiped at the mess she’d created.
He laughed, the rumble in his chest vibrating against her hand. The hand holding her legs reached up and pulled off the white material. He bunched it up and dabbed at her eyes. “It’s seen worse than a good cry, lassie.” He held the crumpled linen to her nose. “Go ahead,” he ordered.
She dutifully blew into the cloth, feeling like a little girl again being comforted after a fall. How could she look him in the eye?
As if reading her mind, he tipped her chin up, his eyes crinkling around the corners. A thick lock had fallen onto his forehead, covering one bushy dark brow. Without thinking, she reached up and pushed it back. Her fingers slowly moved of their own accord, down the side of his face to his jaw, and stopped. His head dipped as his lips brushed her fingertips.
Peigi stared into those deep blue depths and watched them darken with…desire? It couldn’t be. Not after her father’s announcement. He couldn’t possibly want—
His mouth covered hers, and her mind went numb. Thoughts of her father, the clan, the pain in her knee disappeared under an all-consuming heat. The velvet touch of his lips created a thrumming in her belly that shot through her core. When he pulled back, she whimpered then sighed as he settled her closer. His tongue teased her lips, and she hesitated, not sure what to do. Her only kiss had been with a village boy whose hard mouth had pressed against hers while his inexperienced hands grabbed at her breasts. This…this was terrifying and divine. She parted her lips and gave in to this unexpected passion. His tongue danced against hers, and she sucked in a breath as a pulse began low in her core. Curling her hand around his neck, she pulled him closer, and heard him moan—then growl.
Chapter Five
An Oath Given, A Heart Stolen
Calum had wanted to throttle both fathers. One for callously using his daughter, and the other for humiliating her with his unabashed laughter. The commotion at supper had turned almost comical when Peigi had fled the room.
“What the bloody hell were ye thinking?” he’d bellowed at Malachi when Peigi ran from the dining room.
“Dinna yell at our guests,” scolded Angus, wiping his eyes. “This is irony at its best, I tell ye. What were we just talking about, Son?”
“Please share, Da. It sounds a braw joke, indeed.” Finley leaned his elbows on the table, chin in his hands, the meal forgotten.
“Aye, I’d like to ken what has our dour father so full of humor.” Hamish rose and walked over to the sideboard. Pouring himself a whisky, he gestured to the table. “Anyone else?”
“Please,” answered Malachi.
Angus joined his son and poured several glasses, handing them around. When he reached Calum, Ailish reached up and took the crystal glass. “Explain yerself, Husband,” she said after shooting back the fiery liquid.
“Weel, Calum and I were discussing the possibility of peace between the Craiggs and MacNaughtons. The subject of choices came up, and I told him the only choices he needed to concern himself with was choosing a mate. So I agreed to consider peace when he considered a bride.” He raised his glass to his guest. “How convenient. Peace and grandchildren with one bargain. That is Scottish efficiency at its best.”
His brothers joined in their father’s renewed laughter. Waving a disgusted arm at his family, Calum had left in search of the injured party. Only to find it wasn’t only her pride wounded. His fragile lambie had tripped on the stairs. Her stubbornness, pride, and tears had landed them in her bedroom, wrapped in a passionate embrace.
He pulled away from her, knowing if he didn’t, they would both regret it. A woman hadn’t lit this kind of fire in him since…nay, a woman had never lit this kind of fire in him. She whimpered, a sweet, sensuous sound that made him hard and hungry for the taste and feel of her. He pulled her closer and claimed that delicious mouth again, a moan creeping up his throat.
How he wanted to drown in those soft, velvety lips, sink his fingers into her silken, auburn waves, bury himself deep inside her until—
A growl penetrated the fog in his brain. He looked up to see Black Angus at the door, watching the woman on his lap with teeth bared. “It appears we have an audience,” he whispered in Peigi’s ear.
She pushed away from him, hands smoothing her disarray of curls. Saints and sinners. She was exquisite. Lips swollen from his kiss, emerald eyes glazed with passion, her face flushed with relief when she realized only a deerhound had witnessed their encounter.
“Thig!” he commended. The dog padded across the room and sat in front of them.
Peigi stood and winced from the pain in her leg, causing the dog to growl.
“I think he prefers ye on my lap.” He grinned. “I think I prefer it, too.”
Black Angus curled his lip in agreement, and Peigi obediently sat back down. “Is he jealous?” she asked, cautiously holding her hand out for the beast to sniff.
“A feisty and brave lass, I see. He appreciates that in someone. Show fear, and he’ll never let ye forget who is in charge.” Calum held out his hand, palm down. “Suidh!”
The dog sat and dropped his head. “Go ahead, ye can pat him now. He’s slow to befriend people, but once he does, he’s loyal to the end. Or until I tell him otherwise.”
“A true Highlander then,” she said with a laugh. In a more serious tone, she asked, “Are ye the same as yer companion?”
“Aye, once ye have my affection, there’s no getting rid of me.” His smile faded as she stared at his mouth, turning him hard and aching for her again. “Let me call my mother to have a look at yer leg. I think we’ve had enough impropriety for one evening.” He grinned at her red cheeks and planted another kiss on her sweet lips.
“I’m in full agreement,” Ailish said from the hall. “Kindly remove our guest from yer lap and take yerself to the study for a whisky. Yer father is making plans without ye.”
They both started at the sound of her voice. Peigi scrambled with little grace onto the mattress as Calum shot off the bed like a stray cannonball. It was his turn to be embarrassed.
“It’s no’ what it looks like, Ma. She tripped on the steps and needed help up the stairs.”
“I’m glad to see I’ve raised such helpful sons. Now off with ye, and I’ll tend to the lass.”
He gave Peigi an apologetic look and escaped the accusing eyes of his mother, the hound close on his master’s heels.
*
Ailish sat down on the bed and held out her arms. “Come now, lass. Tell me what has happened here and at home. Yer poor shoulders are sagging from too much responsibility.”
Peigi fell into the woman’s arms as if she’d done it a hundred times. Wrapped in the maternal hug, she drew in a ragged breath and let the words tumble out. It cleansed her soul to tell her troubles to a sympathetic, unbiased ear. Well, mostly unbiased. She knew from the embrace, the expressions crossing the older woman’s face, and the intelligence in those amber eyes that Ailish would give sound advice without a crumb of pity.
“So, yer choice is to marry a stranger or give yerself to an English earl?” She snorted. “The Lord help them, but men can have the brains of a tattie.”
Peigi chuckled. At least a potato was useful.
“What did my son say to ye?”
“I wasna in the mood for conversation. The anger had my tongue and then he picked me up and carried me.” She shrugged, picking at the embroidery on the counterpane. “I cried all over his waistcoast and made a mess of his silk neckcloth and then he…”
“He what?”
“He kissed me.”
His mother grinned. “Did he now? Weel, that’s promising. Did ye enjoy it?”
She nodded. “Ye are no’ angry with either of us?”
“Lass, I’ve seen people marry without lay
ing eyes on each other until they’re before the minister. Yer clan has a respectable reason for the union, and I ken my eldest. He doesna steal kisses under his mother’s nose. There’s a spark between the two of ye. It’s time he found a wife and gave us grandchildren.”
“I would think he has plenty of lasses to choose from within yer own clan.”
“Aye, but none have tempted him to marriage or even a serious flirtation.” She placed a palm on Peigi’s cheek. “What if ye enjoy yer visit with us and let destiny decide? Take the time to ken Calum as a man and no’ a solution to yer problem.”
It was good advice. Perhaps this handsome-as-sin man would steal her heart as well as her breath.
“In the meantime, let’s take a look at that injury.”
Enid tsked and mumbled as she poked at the swollen knee. She bent the patient’s leg up and down. “She smacked it good, she did, but I dinna think it is cracked.” She turned to the maid. “Colleen, get a bowl of snow and several cloths for bandages. That will help with the pain until I get a nice tea and compress ready for ye.”
“My humble apology for putting ye out.” Peigi was mortified that she had not only caused such a scene earlier, but now she was also an invalid in need of tending.
“I’m happy to do it for Malachi’s daughter. I nursed yer father, too, and he was fine, by the by.” The cook pulled Peigi’s shift down and patted her cheek. “Ye’ll recover soon enough, but stay off that leg for several days.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Peigi smiled thankfully at the plump woman. “I’m sorry I missed yer biscuits. I heard from a verra good source they are the best in Scotland.”
“Weel, I suppose some could appear on a plate next to yer tea. We canna have a guest going hungry.” She pushed her round form off the tall mattresses. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
“Thank ye for taking care of me. I’m no’ used to being on the receiving side. I ken ye must be busy.”
“Getting the Scotch buns ready for the great morning. I’m sure yer cook at home is doing the same.”
She leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes. There would be no sweet treats at Castle Craigg this year. Exhaustion overcame her. It had been a long and trying day. What would tomorrow bring?
Calum ignored the smirks of his brothers. He poured himself a swallow of whisky and faced them with a challenging air. “Do yer best, I’m ready.”
Silence.
“Get it out, I ken ye want to enjoy this moment.”
Silence.
“What in the bloody hell are ye waiting for?”
Malachi cleared his throat. “We’re waiting to see if ye’ll accept my gift, so I can clear my debt afore the new year.”
“Ye were serious about giving me yer daughter?”
“There are circumstances ye need to be aware of, reasons why I would make such an offer.” Malachi tipped back his head and finished off his liquor. “It seems Lord Fulton has taken a liking to Peigi.”
This surprised him. “So ye prefer a Scot to an English nobleman?” He glanced at his father, who stared into his own amber liquid.
“I prefer marriage to an…arrangement.”
Anger burned in Calum’s belly. “He wanted to use her as a whore?”
Malachi nodded. “I thought this might be a better solution for her.”
“It’s rude to reject a man’s offer to settle his debt. I think ye should marry the girl. We’ll need to negotiate the details, but I believe the Craiggs are sincere in their wish to put aside the feud.” Angus nodded to his other two sons. “Finley could use some extra hands in North Carolina. We might as well employ Scots than strangers.”
“Was she willing to do it?” Something else burned inside him as Calum waited for the answer. The thought of the puny earl touching that sweet lass upstairs had his teeth grinding.
“Nay, she was spitting mad my brother even considered it. If we dinna find another way, he’s threatened to tell the clan that her sacrifice could have saved us all.” He held out his glass when Angus offered him another drink. “I ken my daughter. If she thinks it’s the only way, she’ll relent in the end. Peigi is loyal and cares for those families. She willna let them starve next winter if it’s in her power to help.”
Although Calum was relieved she had rejected the offer, the thought of her giving up all prospects of marriage, of a family and doting husband, to become the mistress of an Englishman who would use her and toss her away…
“I’ll marry her.”
“The words I’ve been waiting for, my boy.”
Chapter Six
A Promise of Passion
Peigi woke to the ministrations of Enid applying a compress of witch hazel to her knee. A tray with tea and shortbread sat on a nearby table.
“I must have dozed off.”
“No worries, lass. Are ye hungry? I’m happy to sit with ye a spell.”
“I’ll keep her company if I can share the biscuits.” Calum pushed away from the door frame and settled on a stool close to the bed, Black Angus settling at his feet. He handed her a cup, holding the hot edge and pointing the handle toward her.
Peigi pushed herself up and accepted the tea, noting his natural thoughtfulness. He offered her a biscuit. Chewing the crumbly shortbread, a sigh escaped. “Sugar. These were made with sugar. It’s been so long.” She took another bite and closed her eyes as she enjoyed the sweet goodness, letting part of the biscuit dissolve in her mouth before taking another sip of tea.
When she opened her eyes, he was watching her, a slight smile on his face. Sweet Mary, he was a fine-looking man with that dark hair pushed back from his forehead and curling around his neck. He had removed the leather thong so it was no longer tied back. The silence stretched as she struggled for subjects to talk about. He continued his perusal of her face before lowering his gaze to her chest, hidden by the thin shift tied securely at her neck.
Peigi had no idea what to say to this man. Her mind was as sharp as week-old porridge. Should she thank him for carrying her up the stairs? He’d swooped her into his arms as if she’d weighed no more than a bairn. Or should she reprimand him for kissing her? Nay, she’d enjoyed that, though embarrassment stained her cheeks, thinking about his lips on hers. He had come to see her. Perhaps he should start the conversation.
“I’ve had a talk with Malachi and learned more of yer circumstances.”
Perhaps not. The smile fell away along with her enjoyment of his company. What had her father said this time?
“Ye should ken I’ve agreed to marry ye. I hope ye will be a willing bride.” He studied her with narrowed eyes, making her squirm. “We are attracted to each other, which is a grand start. We are of like minds, I believe, when it comes to family. Ye are lovely, and educated, and all that I would ask for in a mate.”
“Except love.” It came out as a whisper. Why was her mind dwelling on this fact? She liked him. He was a man she could respect. The option between Calum’s proposal and Lord Fulton’s proposition should be no choice at all.
He gently took the cup from her hand and set it on the tray. The soft mattress sagged under his weight as he sat next to her and took both her hands in his. She flinched as his fingers ran over the callused palms, no longer the soft, smooth skin of a lady but rough from doing a servant’s work. As if reading her mind, he turned her hands and kissed each palm. A surge of pleasure and something else fluttered through her core.
“Love will come in time, Peigi, I have no doubt.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Then, as if he could not help himself, he brushed her lips with his. The faint sweet smell of aged oak clung to his mouth. The men had been drinking good scotch.
He smiled. “Get some rest, and we’ll talk more in the morning.”
*
“What did she say?” Angus piled eggs and rasher on his plate from the sideboard. “And what the devil were ye doing talking to her while she was in bed? God’s bones, boy, ye’re making certain the wedding will take place.”
&
nbsp; “She canna walk, so if I want to speak with her I have to go to her rooms.” Calum gave Malachi an apologetic look. “Enid was in the room with us. It was all proper.” That time.
“So she said yes?” her father asked, waving away the worry of impropriety. “She’s a good girl.”
“Weel, no’ exactly. But she dinna say no.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I canna imagine why she wouldna agree. What other choice does she have?”
“Another MacNaughton?” chimed in Finley. “I might make the sacrifice and marry the lass. Do ye think she’d like America?”
Malachi shook his head. “She wouldna go so far from her clan. The offer has been made before.”
“She’s had other offers of marriage?” Why had Calum thought she hadn’t? It was the innocence of that kiss, her inexperience. The tightness in his chest increased when he thought of another man holding her hand, stopping along a wooded path, and stealing a kiss.
“Aye, before most of the clan left. The single men emigrated to Canada or America or to the cities if they had a skill. She wouldna leave the Highlands. The only males left are either relatives, married, old, or children. Not much selection for a pretty young lass like Peigi.”
“Was she ever partial to any one suitor?” That had slipped off his tongue before he could stop it.
“There was one. Rabbie was a fine young lad. He sent a letter or two when he first left, letting us ken he’d made Canada and was making a profit from furs. We havena heard from him since.” Malachi cocked his head, a questioning look in his familiar green eyes. “Does it matter?”
Calum frowned. “Nay.” But it did for some reason. Was it the reason she hesitated? Giving herself to the earl would not betray the young man she might have loved for her heart would remain his. He slammed some of the thick butter onto his bread. A dollop flew off the knife and onto the floor, quickly licked up by the waiting hound at his feet.
