Sizzle All Day, Bad Luck Wedding #4 (Bad Luck Abroad)

by Geralyn Dawson

  "I don't believe you."

  "It's true." She gave her head a toss. "Tonight's party was just for show, wasn't it, Jake?"

  Jake nodded. He didn't have a problem with that. Tonight's shindig was certainly a show. "And Gillian is leaving Rowanclere. I expect her to be gone by the end of the week." His arm around Annabelle's waist, Jake gave her a squeeze and decided to bring this confrontation to a head. "So, Maclean, your wife tells me my johnson is a helluva lot bigger than yours."

  The Scotsman was quick. A roar of rage echoed through the dungeon as he lunged toward Jake, his arms extended, hands aimed for the neck. Jake blocked him and they wrestled a bit. Then, finally, he threw the punch he'd dreamed of throwing since he first heard Maclean's name on Gillian's lips.

  Knuckles cracked against chin. Jake knew Maclean had to see stars. Stopping to gloat was a mistake, as demonstrated by the whumph that blew from his mouth following a roundhouse to the gut.

  After that, they got down to serious fighting. It was a regular dungeon brawl, rolling and pounding and punching. No biting or kicking, and Jake had to admire that in the Scotsman. He hadn't had this much fun since he left Texas—discounting sex with Gillian, of course.

  Then Annabelle had to ruin it by dumping a bottle of champagne on them.

  Jake rolled off Maclean and lay on his back, trying to catch his breath. Having worked off some of the tension that had plagued him since ogling his chained-to-the-wall wife, he felt pretty damned good. Too bad she didn't spill any champagne on Gillian. I could lick it up to celebrate.

  Then Annabelle started sobbing, popping the bubbles of Jake's good mood. "Get up, D-d-david Maclean. Get up and go to Gillian, to the woman you want. I never want to see you again."

  Maclean scowled, wiggled one of his front teeth, and glared up at his wife. "Haud yer wheest, woman. You're not throwing me over."

  "Yes I am."

  "Nae, you're not. You are my wife and you are going to stay my wife."

  "No, I'm not. We can't live together!"

  "We can if I build a new castle for your mother."

  She gasped and clasped her hands to her breast. "You would do that for me?"

  Scowling fiercely, he nodded.

  After checking his nose for breaks, Jake stood and readjusted his skirt. "No need to go to the trouble. Mrs. Lehrman is headed back to Boston at first light. Doesn't like our ghosts."

  "It worked!" Annabelle wrapped her arms around Jake and hugged him hard.

  Gillian must have figured enough was enough about then, because she emerged from the storeroom. David saw her and his eyes went wide. "Gillian, you were here all the time?"

  "All of it. I heard everything." She glanced from Annabelle, to Jake, to David, then back to Annabelle again. "They told the truth, David. I am leaving Rowandere. I want this finished once and for all. You need to choose which woman you want, now and forever. Who is it to be, sir. Annabelle or myself?"

  The man looked like he'd swallowed a mouthful of green whisky. "Oh, Gilly—"

  "Choose, David."

  He looked from one woman to the other. Annabelle dried her tears, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin. Jake was right proud of her.

  Then the Scotsman met Gillian's gaze head on. "I love her. I love Annabelle."

  Gillian beamed a tender smile as Annabelle threw herself at her husband. "Of course you do, David. You wouldn't have married her otherwise."

  Extending a hand to her own mate, she said, "Come upstairs, Texas."

  "Yes. Our business here is done."

  "Aye, after I mention that if I ever see your lips on another woman's again, I won't be this understanding."

  "I'll keep that in mind."

  "See that you do."

  Jake and Gillian made their way toward the staircase leading out of the dungeon. At the base, Jake paused. He held up a finger, signaling for her to wait. Detouring into the bedchamber, he retrieved what he wanted, then returned to his wife. "It's been a long night. Let's go to bed, shall we?"

  Gillian eyed the handcuffs slung over his shoulder, smiled, and said, "Aye, my lord. Our bed. What a fine idea."

  "We can save the wall for next time."

  * * *

  Following a few short hours of sleep, Jake and Gillian concluded their duties as host of the foy as those guests who had stayed the night at Rowanclere made their departures. First up and out was Henrietta Lehrman, So intent was she to leave that Jake was forced to return to the dungeon and bang on the bedchamber door. However, once he explained his reason for being there, the happy couple had all but run over him on their way upstairs.

  It was only after the mother and daughter's tearful good-byes that Gillian noticed the evil contraption in David's hands, "David, one of the rules we have here at Rowanclere is that torture devices are not allowed out of the dungeon. Think of Robyn and her mischief."

  "I'll take it right back down," he told her, his smile wreathing his face as he swung the branks slowly back and forth by its chain. "I brought it just as a precaution in case she resisted at the end."

  Jake eyed the contraption in David's hand and said, "Let me see that."

  He studied the metal cage designed to lock around a person's head with a spiked tongue-piece that fit inside the mouth. He gave a slow whistle. "What is this thing called?"

  "Branks," Gillian answered.

  "Or Scold's Bridle," David added. "It was principally used on scolding housewives."

  "Really, now." Jake slanted a grin toward Gillian.

  "Don't even think it," she snapped back.

  The Macleans ate breakfast, then departed for home. By midmorning everyone but family had made their farewells. When Lord Harrington called for his carriage to be brought round, Gillian looked up with surprise from the important business of cooing at one of her nephews. "You are leaving?"

  Jakes mother nodded. "Harrington has business in London. Cole and Chrissy will travel with us as far as Hartsworth. Cole will personally carry the Declaration of Independence home to Texas so we know it will arrive safe and sound."

  Gillian put the baby to her shoulder and absently patted his back. They were all leaving. Jake would be saying good-bye to his loved ones for what was bound to be years. Oh my. He is so tired. This was a terrible time to face something so emotionally draining.

  As it turned out, Jake took the leave-taking just fine. Gillian was the one who started crying and couldn't stop.

  "There, there," said his mother, giving Gillian a hug. "No need to carry on so. It's not as if we'll never see each other again."

  "But it will be so long."

  "Time goes fast, believe me. I've much experience at this sort of thing. Miles don't separate loved ones; anger and hurt feelings are the culprit there. Believe me, in the twenty-plus years I was estranged from my father, it wasn't the physical distance that truly separated us, but the emotional distance. As long as you part on good terms, the time will fly by. Right, Chrissy?"

  Jake's sister nodded and stepped up to give Gillian another hug. "She's right. You'll get used to these separations, honey. I promise. Time does pass quickly. We'll keep in touch with letters and before you know it, we'll be together again."

  Gillian felt Jake's gaze upon her and she looked through watery eyes to see his worried frown. Not wishing to add to his burden, she smiled. It was shaky, but she gave it a good effort. He pressed a kiss against her forehead, then handed her his handkerchief. Hers was already soaked.

  She did a fine job of soaking his, too, as she watched him say good-bye to first Cole, then Chrissy, and finally his mother. She didn't eavesdrop on then short conversations. She didn't need to, the language of their bodies said it all.

  They were sad to leave one another, but not devastated. Gillian didn't understand it. She knew they loved each other. She'd seen it over and over again. Why, if it were her, shed be prostrate on the ground with grief.

  In another few days, it will be you.

  "Oh, my." Her knees suddenly felt like water
. She thought she might have swayed, because Jake slipped his arm around her waist, supporting her as they waved good-bye to the departing coach.

  They watched until it disappeared from sight, then he turned to her, lifted her chin with two fingers, and gazed solemnly into her eyes. "Princess, you gonna be okay?"

  Gillian told herself she was tough and she was brave. "Aye, I'm fine. Tired, though. I need sleep."

  He gathered her in his arms and held her for a long moment. She found the embrace comforting and in a way, almost healing, and when she went upstairs for a nap, she fell quickly asleep.

  It was the last good sleep she had for days.

  * * *

  She is wasting away before my eyes.

  Jake was supposedly overseeing the packing of Angus's personal items for the move to Laichmoray, but in actuality, he was watching his wife be miserable. She'd been this way ever since the day his family left Rowanclere. She didn't eat, she didn't sleep. She seldom smiled and never laughed.

  The woman was in mourning for a life she perceived as dying, and it was all Jake's fault. Oh, she never said anything, never complained, and even tried to hide what she was feeling. But Jake knew.

  The idea of leaving her home and family was killing her. He'd always known she'd take it hard, but he never realized just how hard. His first realization of it had come while watching her say her farewells to his family. Her reaction had shaken him, and he'd tried to write it off as fatigue and letdown from the foy. But as the days slowly passed and he saw her bittersweet smiles and the hundreds of tiny good-byes she unwittingly betrayed, Jake began to realize the enormity of what he was asking her to do.

  Gillian wasn't like him in this. She hadn't grown up in a world where family separations were frequent occurrences. In Gillian's experience, when people left, they left forever. Her parents, her brother Nick. Shoot, it was a wonder she survived Flora moving a day's ride away.

  And now, he'd asked her to leave her loved ones for months and even years on end? To sail off into the sunset with him and leave the rest of her life behind? You truly are a bastard, Delaney.

  The final straw came later that afternoon when Angus asked that a favorite dagger from the muniment room be included with the items being sent to Laichmoray. As Jake neared the room, the first sound he heard was Scooter's whimpering, followed almost immediately by Robbie Ross's disconsolate weeping. Oh, God. Not more female tears.

  He approached the doorway cautiously, filled with trepidation. Standing just out of sight, he eavesdropped on the conversation taking place between his choked-up wife and her broken-hearted sister.

  "Please, Gilly," Robbie was saying, hiccupping a breath. "Please ask him."

  "Oh, posy. I canna."

  "Why, do you not want me to come with you?"

  "Robbie, no. Of course I'd love to have you come with us. But it just isn't practical. I'm told shipboard is often not a place for ladies, so it certainly would not be proper for a child. And what about your schoolwork? What about Uncle Angus? I would feel so bad if we both went with Jake and left him behind."

  "So let's take him with us, too! And Scooter. The whole family will go."

  Sadness dampened Gillian's laugh. "And Flora and Alasdair and the bairns while we're aboot it, too."

  "Aye!" Robbie sobbed as she said it. "Everyone. That way we'll not be apart. We shouldn't be apart, Gillian. It'll be too sad."

  Oh, hell. The girl was right. It would be too sad. He couldn't do this to Gillian.

  Jake sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall. He stood there for a full minute, thinking and considering, weighing his options. Except, there were no options, just a choice. His choice.

  He closed his eyes, and silently bid his dream goodbye.

  Then Jake squared his shoulders, pasted on a grin, and sauntered into the muniment room. "Oh, halt the caterwauling, squirt. I've got good news."

  Robbie lifted her head from her sister's shoulder and two pairs of watery, bluebonnet eyes questioned him with a look. "No need to fret. Gillian and I aren't going anywhere. I've decided to cancel the trip and stay here at Rowanclere."

  * * *

  Gillian's heart leapt, and for one brief instant, joy filled her soul. Then she looked past the smile on her husband's face to his eyes now dimmed of their brightness. "Don't be silly, Jake. Of course we're going. The day after tomorrow, just as we planned."

  "No. Uh uh. I've changed my mind. I want to stay here."

  She knew what he was doing, of course. He thought to sacrifice his dream for her sake. Well, she wouldn't have it. "Robyn, please excuse us. I think it's time for Jake and me to have a talk."

  "All right." Her sister walked toward the door, pausing beside Jake. "It's a fine decision, Jake. Dinna let her talk you out of it."

  When they were alone, Gillian moved to the window and turned her gaze out to the sunshine-filled day. She needed the illusion of warmth. "I've imagined this journey of ours. I've pictured standing beside you at ship's rail watching the sunset. I fantasized about making love with you on a tropical beach. I'm looking forward to those moments."

  "Your heart is torn in two, princess, and I can't stand watching it anymore. I can't stand knowing I'm the cause of your and your family's misery. No, I cannot in good conscience take you away from here. Not now. Maybe on down the road aways when you don't have so many ties. I've waited this long. A few more years won't hurt."

  She shook her head. "In a few more years, with God's blessing, I hope we'll have a family of our own. I will not raise my children aboard ship or on a remote beach with no doctor within call. No, we must go now. Our plans are all made. It'll be fine, Jake, dinna worry."

  Frustration shimmered in his voice. "Yes, it will be fine, because we're not going."

  "Yes, we are."

  "No, we're not."

  "Yes, we are."

  He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "Stop it. Listen to us. This is ridiculous." He crossed over to the window, and placing his arms upon her shoulders, turned her to face him. "Princess, don't fight me on this. I can't bear to watch what this has been doing to you, to you and to Angus and to Robin and to Flora. My decision has been made. I had a choice and I chose you."

  Her eyes flashed and she tore herself from his arms. "I am not Annabelle Maclean. I didn't ask you to choose, did I?"

  "We're not going, and that's my final decision."

  They fought about it for an entire month. Snapping and arguing and bickering each day, loving desperately each night. It was as if they sensed a coming change. Finally, a simple remark from Jake about the weather brought the battle to a head.

  It was a simple comment about being cold, no different from any of the hundreds of complaints he'd voiced over the course of the summer. Gillian, feeling snappish in the wake of an argument with Angus, rounded on him and said, "What is wrong with you? One would think we live in Siberia by the way you talk."

  "Well it's damn sure not Texas,"

  "Then why stay? Why stay where you are so miserable? I think you'd better go, Jake Delaney. Leave Rowanclere. Leave Scotland. You are liable not to last through a Highland winter."

  They stood staring at one another, fuming, until to Jake's horror, tears swelled in Gillian's eyes, then overflowed. "It's no good, Jake. No good. You had it partially right a month ago. Leaving home is wrong for me. But staying, I'm afraid, is wrong for you. We're tearing each other apart. I think you should go. I think you should follow your dream, but I think you should do it without me."

  Everything inside Jake went cold. "What are you saying?"

  "It's what is right. You have wings on your feet, Texas. Mine are planted deep in the Highland moors."

  An invisible noose was tightening around his neck, and he cleared his throat to get the words out. "My feet don't need to fly. I don't need the tropics to keep me warm. All I need is you, princess. You and your love."

  Her smile was sad. "For now, when our love is new, that may be true. But what about when the yearning f
or adventure stirs within you once again? You know it will, Jake. What happens then? Will you come to resent me? Resent our home, our family?"

  "I would never do that."

  "Can you be so certain? Honestly certain? I'm not. That's why I've realized I canna go with you. I canna stand here and say without a moment's doubt that someday I would not come to resent you for taking me from my home and family. That is why you must go, and I must stay. It's the only way."

  He wanted to argue with her, rather desperately, but the words to convince her of her error in judgment wouldn't come. Instead, frustration filled him. "No. I own this castle. You can't make me go."

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Then I won't stay. I'll go to Laichmoray. I winna live with you any longer, Jake Delaney."

  His heart cracked, then shattered. "Dammit, Gillian. Why are you doing this? Why are you throwing me out of your life?"

  "No no no," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not throwing you out. I'm letting you go. And I'm trusting in our love."

  She lifted his hands to her mouth and kissed them, first one, then the other. "I want you to go and have your adventure, Jake Delaney, but I'm asking for your promise to return to me when it is done. If you promise, I will believe it. I will wait for you, I will hold your love inside my heart and wait for you to come home to me. However long it takes. You have my word."

  Jake held her gaze as if it were a lifeline. Love shone in their glittering depths, love deep and true.

  And he believed.

  His voice was gravelly when he spoke. "I will love you until the day I die, Gillian Ross Delaney. And I will come home to you, home to Rowanclere. You have my promise."

  Chapter 17

  The first package arrived from Cairo. Gillian opened it to find a beautiful Persian rug.

  Dear Princess,

  Saw the pyramids. Kinda boring compared to barbicons and turrets. The rug is for Maiden's Tower. Lie on it and dream of me. Hate it here. Sand gets in everything I eat. Miss you. Love you. It's cold here.