Capturing The Reluctant Highlander (Lasses 0f The Kinnaird Castle Book 3)

by Kenna Kendrick

  He couldn’t see, but Ruth was smiling, and she laid her head back once more against the tree as Troy took her to new heights, his hips thrusting into her, his cock filling her, touching the source of the ache and the throb that had troubled her for so many weeks.

  It was nothing like she’d experienced before. It was like floating upon the sea, letting the waves take her wherever they wished. She began to moan louder, as she felt something building in her core the more his hips ground and pumped against her. He breathed roughly against her neck, and she felt his warm lips kissing her.

  Soon the pleasure built to a greater height inside of her, and it felt like she was about to burst into flames, melting around him. “Troy, what is happening to me? I feel as though I might catch on fire or float away.”

  Troy smiled and continued thrusting without answering. He wanted to show her. He kept moving until he heard Ruth cry out in ecstasy, saying, “Oh, yes!” to the trees.

  He moved into her once more before growling into the crevice of her neck and letting go of her buttocks, so that she could stand once again. He turned and spilled his seed on the forest floor, leaning his hand against the tree behind her.

  Ruth had to hold onto the tree for support. Her legs felt like they would buckle at any moment, and she was breathing hard. So was Troy. They spent the next few moments trying to catch their breath.

  Then they started laughing. Ruth started first, and then Troy joined in. She sighed and leaned back, letting the remainder of pleasure wash over her. “Troy Ferguson, what in the bloody hell was that?”

  And Troy laughed, buttoning up his pants, and coming near to Ruth, he placed a hand on her cheek and brought his lips to hers. “How do ye feel, lass?”

  Ruth replied, “Like I cannot feel my legs. Is that normal?”

  Troy laughed again, unable to contain his joy at having made love to the most beautiful woman in the world but also unable to stop his mirth at Ruth’s joking. “Aye, and ‘tis a great compliment tae me.”

  He kissed her lightly and slowly, taking more time to taste her. “I wish I could taste ye all over, Ruth. Ye are like sweet wine and roses.”

  Ruth smiled. “Again? ‘Tis not over?”

  He laughed. “Nae, unless ye want it tae be so. I very much would like it tae happen again and again and again.”

  Ruth nodded and grinned. Troy laughed. He couldn’t seem to stop laughing. This felt like the happiest moment of his life. Ruth looked down. “I should go. I do not want Marianne and William questioning me as to my whereabouts.”

  He nodded. “Of course.” He had forgotten that there was an outside world beyond these sun-drenched woods. He forgot that there was more to life than a beautiful, funny woman who cried out from the pleasure that he had given her.

  She moved aside and began walking away. Troy couldn’t quite identify what feelings were building in his heart as he watched her go. She turned back around. “Until next time.” Then she smiled and rushed away, and Troy felt his heart soar once more. Yes, there would most certainly be a next time.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ruth awoke the next day, smiling. It seemed impossible to do such a thing, but her dreams had been filled with the memory of strong hands holding her up, filling her to her core, and pushing her out onto a wavy sea, allowing her to descend into deep, satisfying pleasure. She had made love to Troy Ferguson last night. Ruth Browne had made love to the minister.

  She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle a giggle. In the past, she might have felt embarrassed by her actions, having been brought up to believe that such a thing was wrong. But all she felt was contentment and pride. She had allowed herself, a mere woman, to accept the pleasures of the flesh, and she had truly enjoyed the feel of a man touching her, holding her, and being inside of her. She had felt so unbelievably feminine, strong, and powerful in Troy’s hands. It was like he had freed her from whatever further constraints had held her back.

  Today, as she moved from her bed to the floor, Ruth felt like anything was possible. She could stand up to her father when he arrived, and she could find any new life for herself that she desired. She called Margrete to help her dress hurriedly. She couldn’t wait to begin the day with this fresh feeling of happiness and strength. It was like she had been born anew, and she wanted to see where it led her.

  Besides, she wanted to see Troy again. Again, and again, he had said. She smiled at the memory. Troy Ferguson wants me. After all this time of pushing it away and ignoring me, he wants me. She felt a little smug satisfaction at the thought.

  Her mind began filling with all of the ways they could be together once more. He was the minister. How could he find his way into her room or she into his? It would be difficult. Her face was screwed up in concentration as Margrete was brushing her hair.

  “What is on yar mind, girl?” Margrete asked kindly, a smirk on her face.

  Ruth sighed and grinned. “Nothing, Margrete. I’m simply happy to have another day in which to live and do whatever I wish.”

  Margrete lifted an eyebrow at that but did not fight her on it. She simply thought it was about Ruth being happy about being away from her father. But it would only be a few days more until Lord Browne entered the scene.

  Once Margrete was finished, Ruth said her thanks and hurried down the stairs, her paper and pencils in hand, ready to start fresh on her drawings, a renewed energy filling her spirit.

  * * *

  Troy attempted to concentrate in his rooms as he tried to write a sermon. He thought the work would help move his mind away from the previous evening. He had barely slept because of what had happened last night and the image that was burned in his memory. A writhing Ruth, flushed with exertion, smiling at him and screaming out in acceptance of his pleasure. It had been enough to make him hard the whole night through. He wished she was there beside him in his bed, and he could look upon her full naked form, his lips caressing every part of her skin.

  The reminder that he was a minister had come to him in the morning, a tiny voice pleading to be attended to. But he quieted it with the stronger feeling of joy. He wanted to see her again. After having her against a tree in the forest, he knew he could never be satisfied. Ruth Browne was a woman to beat all other women. She was like no one he had known or bedded before.

  Even if they did not make love the next time they saw each other, he knew he wanted to be near her, talking to her, listening to her. He sighed and gave up on writing, his concentration so entirely focused elsewhere. He leaned back in his chair and his gaze fell upon his bookshelf. Then an idea came into his mind.

  * * *

  A few hundred kilometers away, Lord Browne bumbled along in the carriage he had hired for his journey. He would have to sell it when he arrived in Brechin, but it was no matter. He had plans to get everything back that he desired and more, and it all lay in his daughter, if only she could be brought to reason. Over the course of his journey, he had thought long and hard about how to present himself to his daughters.

  It would not be easy, attempting to conceal his anger and frustration at their leaving him so abruptly and abandoning him to penury and censure. It would not be easy to convince them that he wanted to restore their relationship, of which he had no interest.

  In his mind, their leaving had separated him from them forever, and he could not forgive them for what they did. Women, daughters especially, were meant to be dutiful and well-mannered, allowing themselves to be guided by the superior male figures in their lives. His daughters had defied that, and they had most likely forgot all of the teachings of the Bible, living in sin in the wilderness of Scotland. He shook his head at their betrayal and sin.

  How could he, Lord Anthony Browne, ever show his face again in polite society with daughters such as these? They had ruined him, and he would get his recompense. He would marry Ruth off to an old acquaintance of his who had not abandoned him and was looking for a young wife. He could be reinstated into London society and would be able to live off of th
e income from this man for the rest of his days. The man would also include him in his will, since he would surely die in a few years, being nearly 80.

  He smiled to himself. A marriage such as that would surely tame the wild Ruth, who had always been headstrong and contradictory. He folded his hands across his large belly. This was his chance at redemption. However he could, he would find a way to get Ruth to the altar, and he would not make the mistake this time like he did before, letting the rebellious Marianne slip out of his fingers. He would not be made a fool.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Ruth sat in the meadow, letting the sun bathe her face in light. Just that morning, she had breakfasted with Jamie, Amelia, and little Jamie before they left on their journey to meet with his and Amelia’s parents in London. Ruth was sad to say goodbye, because in her heart, she knew it may be a long while until she saw them again.

  But before she had gone, Amelia had embraced her and whispered, “Remember my words, Ruth. Don’t let anything get in the way of love.”

  She had nodded before kissing them and the adorable little laird goodbye and waved to their carriage. Marianne was in tears, sorry to lose her friend even for a short time, worried about the safety of their journey. William had taken her inside to console her, and Ruth had been left to energetically find an occupation for the day.

  She was eager to return to her drawing. She did not think about her father’s arrival. She simply wanted to savor the feeling of happiness that spread through her every vessel, and she wandered to the meadow to enjoy her own pursuits.

  The sun was warm and friendly. It was a good sign for a healthy spring ahead. As the anointed May Queen, she enjoyed feeling like she had something to do with it, like she had bewitched the weather to behave well for her Scottish kinsmen.

  She pulled out her drawing paper and pencils and began drawing the image that persisted in her mind these many weeks and was becoming ever clearer. It was a wooden ship with white sails, sailing on a glassy sea, heading towards the sunset before it.

  She smiled as she let her hand freely move across the page. Her arm had healed enough for her to be able to draw once more, and a pure happiness filled her as she sat, pencil in hand, remembering the image from her dreams.

  In the drawing, she was there, in breeches, complete with sword, her hair flowing in the sea breeze. But someone else was there as well, holding onto her from behind. It was not a constraint; it was a loving gesture, but she never could spend enough time in her dreams with the image to be able to turn to see the person’s face. She only knew the feel of his hands.

  After last night, the person holding her became Troy. It felt so right that he would be holding her as they stared out at the sea together. She smiled to herself as she drew that image and made it reality, her pencil bringing to life what had so filled her mind.

  As she drew, she heard soft footsteps to the side of her, and as she stared up into the sun, shielding her eyes, she saw Troy Ferguson, smiling down at her.

  “Our greetings have improved. Before you would have toppled over me, not looking where you were going.”

  Troy sat down. “Aye, I have been sure tae watch my step since then, although I cannae say the previous experience was unpleasant.” He winked, and Ruth couldn’t help but smile.

  He stared down at her drawing. “Ruth, I didnae realize ye were an artist as well. Still full of surprises.” He reached out and moved a curl behind her ear.

  Ruth’s heart quickened. It was strange to see him in the light of day. To see him after all that had happened. It was like he had been a dream but now he was here, in the flesh, before her, bringing back that familiar throb and ache and something else. She had thought he had satisfied it, but it was awakened once more, ready to be sated.

  She cleared her throat and looked down, feeling suddenly shy. “Yes, I have come to enjoy drawing landscapes since my time here. But I would really like to draw maps and, maybe even one day, use them to explore some new and exciting place.” She had said the last part slowly, afraid of how he might react. She knew he had apologized for his previous behavior and the misunderstanding about women’s abilities, which had filled her with the greatest relief and happiness, but she was still nervous.

  Troy grinned. “Aye, I know. I had an idea that I thought ye may be interested in.”

  “Aye?” she replied, imitating his accent, attempting to elicit a laugh.

  He nodded, chuckling. “Aye. I wondered if…” he paused, looking a little nervous himself, “ye may be interested in learning more about navigation. I happen tae know a bit myself from my previous occupation, and I would like tae share it with ye, if ye will let me.”

  Ruth’s face beamed with pleasure. She moved and wrapped her hands around his neck and hugged him, breathing in his fresh scent. “That would mean the world to me!” You would really do that?”

  Troy moved back in surprise as she jumped into his arms, and she pulled away, feeling a little shy after such an embrace. But he held onto her hands and smiled, bringing one to his lips. “Aye. But where shall we commence the teaching?”

  Ruth thought for a moment before excitedly replying, “The library at the castle! Surely Jamie and Amelia would not mind us using it for such a purpose. They have just left this morning.”

  Troy thought about all the other lovely purposes it could be used for. Seeing Ruth in the bright sunshine, her hair whipping around her face, and her face turned to him with happiness, filled him anew with a desire to be inside of her once more, listening to her breath and smelling her floral scent. He cleared his throat in an attempt to move the image from his mind. “Aye, they left me a note tae say goodbye. They should be back in a month or more.”

  “Well then, it’s settled!” Ruth clapped her hands in happiness. “When can I see you again?” She coughed when she saw Troy’s wide grin, attempting to conceal her eagerness. “I mean, when can we begin the lessons?”

  “Whenever you wish.”

  Ruth sighed with happiness. Perhaps Brechin wasn’t so horrible after all. She looked at the man next to her, his eyes filled with kindness and desire, smiling at her enjoyment. He looked very handsome in the cheery sunlight, even more so than last night. Then his smile left, and he reached out for her.

  On a devilish whim, Ruth pulled away from him and raised an eyebrow. “Minister Ferguson, you would not want your congregation to see you engaging in such a sinful activity in Brechin’s meadow, would you?”

  Troy chuckled. “Ye are quite the bewitching minx are ye not? ‘Twas just as I said the other day. Ye have bewitching powers about ye, even beyond May Day. Ye truly are an elfin queen.” His voice lowered. “Enough tae make a man go wild with need.”

  She stood, enjoying the tiny torment she was giving him. She brushed off the skirt of her dress and grabbed her drawing materials. “Well, far be it for me to put you through such torture, but I’m sure you can manage another few hours.” She grinned. “I will come to the castle later in the afternoon. If you are free, minister.” She said the last words with her back to him, her neck turning towards him. She laughed and ran off.

  Troy rubbed his beard and yelled after her, “Vixen!” That only spurred on more laughter from her as she ran away. Troy lay back in the meadow grass, a smile fixed upon his face. Ruth was going to drive him mad, and he didn’t even care. She could do whatever she wanted to him, and he would accept it with pleasure.

  A few moments later, Troy heard footsteps crunching over the grasses towards him. He sat up with a smile. “Come back, have ye?” He used his hand to cover his eyes to better see the dark figure in front of him.

  Dougal Menzies stood there, arms crossed, a malicious grin on his face. “Aye, lad. I’ve come back.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Troy’s heart fell, and he stood up, dusting himself off, the wave of reality flowing over him. Yes, of course, Dougal had come back to get his answer. He stood, stone-faced before his former first mate.

  “I believe congratul
ations are in order.” Dougal said, enjoying Troy’s change in attitude.

  “For my victory over ye in the sword fighting competition, ye mean?” Troy crossed his arms as well and was gratified to see a flash of anger cross Dougal’s face before returning to his former smug expression.

  “Aye, ‘twas rather unfortunate, that. But my loss and yer lucky victory is not what I meant.”

  “What then?” Troy asked, a feeling of dread coming over him.

  “Why, the lass. The bonny, fancy English lass ye developed a liking for.”

  Troy clenched his jaw but didn’t reply.

  Dougal smiled even wider. “I saw ye two last evening, walking intae the woods. Can I assume that ye had a tryst with her? Had yer pricker in her, did ye?”