Highland Heat (16 page)

“No. I will be at my club.”

“Very well. I'll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes.”

“Have a lovely evening, Papa.” She slipped out the door, feeling heavy and tired, as if she'd just lost one of the most important people in her life.

Grace would go to him tonight. She'd walk to Westminster and the Knights' house. She needed to see him.

It was creeping up on eleven o'clock in the evening, and Grace knew the last lingering wakeful servants had finally gone to bed.

She slipped on a heavy cloak with a hood—for inconspicuousness more than warmth, as it was a balmy evening—and left the house via the servants' back-door entrance.

Breathing a sigh of relief when she exited the gate and turned onto the street, she nearly ran into a figure hurrying in the opposite direction. “Excuse me,” the man mumbled as he stepped aside to let her by.

“Duncan?” she asked, squinting at him in the darkness.

“Grace?”

She exhaled loudly. “I was coming to see you!”

“Well, I was coming to see you, lass,” he said in a voice laden with his usual good humor. It warmed her heart.

She reached out, and he grasped her hands in his own and pulled her close to him. “I missed you.”

“It's only been a few hours.”

“I ken that. And that's how I realized that I didna want to exist without you. When I am apart from you for a few hours, I miss you. When I'm apart from you for days on end, I feel as if my guts have been ripped from my body and I'm like to die at any moment.”

“Goodness,” she exclaimed. “That's rather extreme.”

“ 'Tis accurate, though. It's a pain worse than a broken arm ever was.”

She squeezed his hands. “I feel it too. It's a pain worse than anything I've ever felt.”

He nodded, gazing into her eyes. It was dark here on the street, and still, for the evening traffic had died out hours ago.

“Come to Scotland with me, Grace. Marry me.”

Her heart stuttered. “Tonight?” she breathed.

“Aye. Tonight.”

She blinked several times. She didn't know what she'd expected—maybe that they'd spend time rebuilding the damage that had been done when he'd left her. Maybe that they'd meet for a few nights and decide together what the course of their future might be.

It was dark, so she could see only the shadow of his face, a slight glint in his eyes, the dark slant of his mouth, but she felt the intensity of his gaze, felt the heat of it spreading like lava beneath her skin.

She thought of her father, who would be expecting to see her tomorrow. Of the upcoming house party—she'd be leaving him in a lurch…but she'd finished most of the work, and Mrs. Fitch could do the rest. She wouldn't be there to entertain her father's guests, though, and that alone might force him to cancel the party, which would turn to speculation, then gossip, then the rumor mill would start, and the
ton
would get to the bottom of the cancellation.

Did you hear? The Earl of Norsey's daughter ran off with a Scottish farmer.

She took a deep breath, hating that her father would have to bear this pain and embarrassment. But if he'd accepted Duncan, accepted
them,
then it would have been easier. Not easy, because rumors and speculation would still fly, but easier.

She gave Duncan a jerky nod. “Yes. Tonight.”

He pulled her close and pressed his lips to her hair. “You wilna regret this, Grace,” he vowed. “I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”

She smiled, because she knew he would.

He pulled back, looking down into her face. “I'll have to return to Manchester and the Knights straightaway. We wilna have time for a proper honeymoon.”

She laughed. “I don't care about a honeymoon.”

“The major will send Lady Campbell back south soon, for safety reasons. You'll have to go with her.”

“I understand, and agree. I wouldn't want to get in the way of your investigation. I have a feeling,” she added, looking up into his shaded eyes, “that knowing we are wed and you will be coming home to me soon will ease the pain of our separation.”

“I think so, too,” he murmured.

“But I don't think I can stay here.” She paused to calm her breath, to stop herself from choking out the words. “I don't think my father will ever want to see me again.”

Duncan pressed her to him once more, stroking her back softly. “You wilna be staying here. You'll be at the Knights' house in Westminster.”

“But…the major…” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest.

“I dinna think the major will object.”

“Really?”

“Aye.”

“Why? What has happened? Whenever he sees us together he glowers so hard I think he might self-combust.”

Duncan grinned. “I think 'twas that sister of yours. She wields a powerful influence over the man.”

She sighed with happiness. To know that the major didn't object to her and Duncan softened some of the blow of her father's disapproval.

“And the Knights were given a castle in Scotland as well. I daresay you'll be very familiar with the place before long.”

“A castle?”

“Aye, an old one—from the Middle Ages. I hope 'tisn't too much of a ruin.”

“I've never lived in a castle before. It sounds exciting.”

His chuckle resonated against her cheek. “That's my Grace.”

Holding hands, she and Duncan walked back to the house and slipped in. They didn't speak as they walked upstairs to her bedchamber. She found her valise and quickly stuffed a few items of clothing into it—a carriage dress, a simple day dress, an extra pair of sturdy shoes, two chemises, a nightgown, two bonnets, hairpins and her comb, and a few pairs of stockings. With all that, the valise was packed to the gills. She looked at it in dismay. “Oh goodness,” she whispered. “I didn't think I was the usual lady who needed to bring half the household in her luggage.”

“You didna bring half the household. You hardly brought anything. Come. Let's go.” He stood, taking her overflowing valise in one hand and reaching for her hand with his other.

She hesitated, then looked slowly around her bedchamber. This was the house she'd spent so much time in since her childhood. Would she ever see it again? Would her father ever allow her to come here? Would she ever see
him
again?

Duncan saw her consternation and kissed her temple gently. “I ken, lass.”

“I'll miss it here,” she said quietly. “I have had many happy days here. Busy days.” Important days, as she thought of it now. Her father was right. She'd entertained important people here, aiding her father in securing votes and supporters in Parliament. She'd kept the brandy flowing and facilitated many a conversation. The Prince Regent had dined with them once, and her father had passionately argued with him and the others at the dinner party for an increase in funds dedicated to feeding the soldiers of Wellington's army.

If she hadn't been there, would her father have been able to make so much progress? To do so much for the realm? Maybe not.

Her life would have a different purpose now. But perhaps not so different as one might think. The Knights also did important work for the realm. They might agree to use her skills. She might still be able to make an impact.

The thought made her smile. She blew out a breath and with it all misgivings she might have had. She turned to Duncan. This man was her almost-husband. The man she intended to spend the rest of her life with. The man she loved.

She nodded. “Let's go, then.”

They didn't go to the Knights' house, but to an inn, where Duncan had already hired a post chaise. When she found this out, she laughed at him and gave him a sly look. “You were confident in me saying yes, weren't you?”

He gave her a grin that made her insides melt. “You ken me, Grace. I always err on the positive side o' things.”

They drove all through the first night and through the next day. By that evening, though, they'd been traveling for twenty hours straight and they were both exhausted. Grace had never traveled that long in a carriage without stopping before, and she felt like every muscle in her body had clenched so hard she must've lost a few inches in height.

Agreeing to take the risk and get a few hours' sleep, they stopped at a busy inn in the bustling city of Birmingham, inconspicuous among the traffic and pedestrians absorbed with their own troubles. They registered at the inn under the names Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie, which gave Grace a happy little chill down her spine.

They spent the first hour of their stay using the basins in the room they'd been assigned to scrub down their bodies as well as they could.

Grace didn't admit to Duncan that this was the smallest and worst-appointed inn chamber she'd ever seen in her life. It truly didn't matter to her—she could live in a closet as long as Duncan was beside her—but it did highlight the different turn her life had taken.

When she'd stripped down to her chemise and was washing her feet, she suddenly felt Duncan's eyes on her. She looked up at him, smiling. “What is it?”

He shrugged. “Just watching you. I could watch you doing that forever.”

She cocked a brow at him and looked askance at her foot. “Washing my feet?”

“Mmm. You have such bonny feet.”

Now both brows rose, and she pressed her feet together and stared at them, curling and uncurling her toes. “Honestly, Duncan, I believe my feet are rather plain.”

“Your feet are erotic.”

A laugh burst out of her. But before she could comment, he was kneeling down in front of her, kissing each of her toes one by one, with such soft movements of his lips, little shivers ran from her toes up through her calves.

He moved slowly up her feet and legs, murmuring as he moved. “This foot will be mine soon. This knee will be mine. This bonny thigh. All mine.”

She sat back on the edge of the bed as he spread her thighs and gently kissed the sensitive lips between them. But he didn't stop there. He moved up her body. “This hip will be mine.” He paused, looking up at her. “Mayhap it'll shelter my sons one day.”

She swallowed.

“And my daughters.”

Suddenly she felt a rush of tears behind her eyes. She'd never expected to have a husband. She'd never even allowed herself to think of children. But children were a natural extension of marriage. And the thought of having Duncan's children made feelings that she'd never experienced and couldn't begin to identify rush through her.

He kissed her stomach. “Mine,” he murmured, then moved up to her rib cage, and then to her breasts. “These are mine. Mine and no one else's.”

She gave a shaky laugh at the possessiveness in his tone, even though her toes were curling once again, because when he kissed her breasts it always aroused her beyond measure.

“I do believe they are actually mine,” she admonished him in a breathy voice.

“Oh nay,” he said smugly. “They may be part of your body, but I assure you, lass, they are all mine.”

“Ohhh,” she purred as he took her nipple in his mouth and pressed her back so she lay on the bed. “Very well.”

He moved her so her whole body was on the bed, kissing her at the same time—up to her shoulder and down her arm. Back up again, to her neck, which he took some time kissing, finding all the sensitive spots that made her gasp in pleasure. Then his hand pressed between her thighs as he kissed her lips, whispering, “Mine. All mine.”

“Yes, Duncan,” she agreed with all her heart. “All yours.”

He rubbed her until she arched her back and pushed herself into his hand. His movements ramped up her pleasure until she was gasping with it. But then he stopped suddenly, right when she was on the knife's edge of orgasm, and pressed her thighs apart with his knees. He moved over her and pushed into her, both of them groaning as they moved their bodies together until he was inside her to the hilt.

“You feel so good inside me,” she breathed.

“You…feel so good wrapped around me,” he said gruffly. “So tight and hot.”

He leaned on one hand and grabbed her arm, then led her hand down to where their bodies merged. “Touch yourself, love.”

She did. She touched herself as he had, moving around that spot where he'd lavished such attention moments ago. He began to move inside her, increasing the pleasure tenfold. “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh…heavens.”

She closed her eyes, sinking into the sensation. He pressed into her, deep and hard, touching her most intimate places, and she rubbed herself to a frenzy. It was only moments before they jointly brought her to the edge again.

“Duncan…I'm going to…going to…”

“Come. Yes, lass. Come all around me. Now.”

And just like that, she did. She released around him with a rush of fluid and heat. Her body went tense and shuddered as the sweetness of it pulsed through her. God, it felt so good. How could she have never even suspected that such sensations were even possible?

She came down from it slowly, trembling as aftershocks sparked through her. She touched herself tentatively, but she was too sensitive now, so she let her hand fall away to just enjoy the rough slide of Duncan as he moved inside her.

It wasn't long before his movements turned more forceful, and she felt his buttocks and shoulders tense with his oncoming orgasm. He looked into her eyes. “I'm coming inside you, Grace.”

Her breath caught, but she nodded. They would be married soon. And she wanted so badly to feel him come inside her.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes with a groan, and seconds later, he froze as he released his seed deep inside her. She could feel it all, the way his cock pulsed, the way his muscles trembled. His eyes squeezed shut and his lips parted into a silent O of pleasure.

Finally, the spasms stopped and he slumped down over her, completely spent.

“God,” he whispered. “Oh my God.”

She wrapped her arms tight around him and buried her face into his neck. “I love you, Duncan. I love you so much.”