The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride (16 page)

‘Am I?’ Fraser said with a note of query in his voice. ‘Really? I wonder. She’d prefer to stop at the castle but that is non-negotiable. Last night was the final straw of a veritable bale.’

Morven shot him a sharp-eyed glance, but didn’t ask him to expand his statement. ‘It was a rather unusual gathering,’ she said non-committally.

‘An understatement, love. Ah well, are you game to come and look?’

Morven nodded. ‘Oh yes.’ Especially as it meant they had time together. She had a thought. ‘Is the spare house furnished? Ready to move into? If she decides it is what she wants, I can’t see you wanting to wait before you undertake the move.’

Fraser nudged his horse forward and Morven slipped Fancy in behind them. ‘If it needs furnishing do you have what is needed?’ she asked as they moved down the hill towards the tiny village next to the loch.

‘I have a bed there. What more is needed?’ The wicked look he slanted over his shoulder made her insides tingle.
Damn him. I do not need this on a horse. On a horse for goodness’ sake. Where each movement rubs me and…enough.
She wrenched her thoughts away from the needs of her body, and back to the needs of the house.

‘Ah well…a coverlet? Sheets?’ What else? Her mind went blank as she thought of a bed, with him. ‘Chairs, carpets,’ Morven added desperately. ‘So much.’

‘A good woman to keep me warm?’

‘We are talking about furnishing the house for your mama,’ Morven said severely. ‘Not your love life or lack of it.’

‘You might have been,’ Fraser said in a voice designed to make her toes, and quim curl up in anticipation. ‘I was talking about what I need there, with you.’

How on earth was she supposed to ride comfortably after that?

****

Satisfied he’d stunned Morven to silence, contemplative silence he hoped, Fraser turned back to pay attention to the track. It was not particularly difficult. He’d chosen that way on purpose, but nothing was easy when your cock was hard as a sword shaft and your breeches seemed much too small to confine said appendage. The idea of that bed at the end of their journey was looking ever more attractive. As long as Morven was in it, on it or ready to be so with him.

He vowed to forget the machinations of both his mama and hers for a short time at least and just enjoy Morven’s company. As they dropped down into the valley and the loch side he waited until her horse drew level with his and encouraged his steed into a gentle canter.

A heron flew over them, its long wings flapping lazily as it circled them and flew on, to land in the reeds at the edge of the loch. A fish jumped and the heron swooped.

‘Easy picking,’ Fraser commented with a laugh, as they slowed to a trot and then a walk. ‘It’s a favourite haunt for herons. There was usually one here when I rode past when I was younger. It’s nice to see some things haven’t changed.’

‘Did you miss it whilst you were away?’ Morven asked him, and the heron swivelled to look at them as they rose past. It took off with elegant grace, circled them and flew away to the west. ‘Not just the heron, but all of this.’ She waved her hand to encompass the view. ‘It has a beauty I can’t imagine you’d see anywhere else.’

‘Oh yes,’ he said softly. ‘All of it.’ How could he explain the heartache he’d had, especially those first few months when he felt betrayed as well as banished? ‘For a long while I was angry, hurt and homesick. But then the magic of Barbados took over. And I had a lot to do. Work helped. But sometimes, especially in the evenings, as I sat on the veranda and listened to tree frogs, I yearned for something else.’

‘Midges?’

He laughed, pleased she’d lightened the atmosphere. ‘Oh no, and the mosquitoes more than compensated for them. No for the hint of snow in the air, foxes yapping, crows cawing and…’ He might as well say it. ‘And you by my side to share it all with.’

Morven sighed. ‘Yes.’

He nodded, as he accepted she understood that empty feeling that gnawed at your insides until you were raw. Then how you had no option but to ignore it and resurface from your misery. To shake yourself up and move on.

‘Oh well, it is over now.’ Fraser reached across the gap between them and squeezed her arm. ‘Now I’m back, I’m stopping, and there is no point in indulging in what if. Lord if I did that I’d be a gibbering wreck. Time to look forward and plan. At least I might be able to influence things to go the way I want this time.’

She smiled. ‘Do you think so?’

Fraser shrugged. He had no idea. ‘One can but hope.’ They reached a long flat part of the track, and he looked across to Morven. ‘We can move faster for a while if you want. My factor mentioned he’d galloped on this stretch the other day.’

She grinned. ‘Oh let’s. I love it when there is no one around to scold me for being unladylike.’

Fraser needed no more encouragement. With a whoop, he urged his horse on. Morven and Fancy kept pace and together they circled the loch until they slowed to trot through the hamlet—the few houses and the inn couldn’t really be called a village, even though a tiny kirk was no more than half a mile away—and onto the spare house. The hamlet had a tidy, welcoming feel to it, as if no one would remain a stranger there for long.

****

Close up it was somewhere, Morven thought, which called to her. A typical four square Scottish dwelling of the upper classes, it had a sturdy roof set squat over its five storeys and its warm grey stones around the rows of windows were hardy and unlikely to crumble. The shutters were open and from one, chimney smoke swirled and drifted off towards the nearest hill. Inside a nearby cottage someone sang a Scottish ballad, and in field close by, a young lad whistled as he walked through the grass, a sheepdog at his heels.

She stopped her horse and took her fill, Fraser and everything else forgotten as she enjoyed the vista before her. Fields with sheep in—evidently the awful clearances hadn’t impacted here—copses of trees, with farms and houses dotted nearby, and in the distance mile upon mile of forest. Heather covered slopes and beyond them the mountains. All interspersed with the bright glint of water where rivers and lochs showed.

‘I could live around here,’ she said impulsively. ‘It has a good feel to it, and the house? Oh I love it. It’s as if it is ready to welcome someone into its embrace. Someone who will love it and care for it. Lord how fanciful do I sound, but it is heartfelt.’

‘Maybe I should forget Mama and offer it to you?’ Fraser said as he lifted her from her horse’s back. ‘Let you live here.’

Morven gathered up her reins and walked ahead as she urged Fancy forward. ‘So you can visit me as and when? No thank you.’

He chuckled as they led their horses around the back of the house to where they could be unsaddled and tied up with food and water. ‘I hadn’t thought of it quite like that. Shall we keep it as a bolthole?’

Oh if only they could. ‘Sadly it wouldn’t be that easy, would it? It’s not like we could nip out for an hour and chat here.’

He grinned as he put their saddles over a stable door. ‘I didn’t have chatting in mind, but you are as ever correct and an hour would never be long enough. Come on, let’s go and see what state it is in. I had the caretaker light fires in the lounge and bedroom and leave us some lunch in the pantry. I didn’t want anyone around.’ He took her hand and helped her over the grass-covered uneven cobbles. ‘This still needs some work.’

‘So you knew I’d come?’ She ignored the remark about the cobbles; it needed no response. His remark about her did. Was she so predictable?

Fraser looked at her quizzically. ‘I hoped you would. I knew I’d need to have a look around, for it’s several months since I’ve had the opportunity to ride here. Before that I was away from it so many years. It’s taken effort and demands, and coercion to get it as I hope it should be. Birds’ nests removed, a new chimney, and the others swept, cracked windowpanes replaced and a door fitted so it doesn’t screech like a banshee when it is opened. That sort of thing. Nothing major but all annoying and all that should have been attended to whilst I was away. The factor was not doing his job, and told Mama what he thought she would accept. He’s not here to do so now. I pensioned him off and Archie Retson took over.’

‘He’s better?’

‘He is,’ Fraser confirmed. ‘Born and brought up on Kintrain and more than capable. I would have thought my papa would have noticed Beattie was failing, but then Papa and Beattie, the old factor, had known each other since childhood. Beattie couldn’t cope but instead of saying so and asking for help he struggled on.’ They reached the door, and Fraser produced a key from his pocket. ‘Ready?’

She nodded. He didn’t want to hear it again, she was sure, but he
was
a good man.

‘Fraser it is amazing, truly. If your mama does not like it, then something is wrong with her,’ Morven said as they walked through rooms where every footstep echoed and their voices sounded loud in the empty space. Sincerity rang in her tone as they moved out of what she declared could be the perfect room to use to sew or dream. Small, south-facing and with a view of the loch and the hills she’d said she had fallen in love with it immediately, even though the only contents were several flies in one of the largest cobwebs she had ever seen.

‘Not my favourite companions,’ she said as the web swayed gently in the air. ‘I always imagine getting caught in one and suffocating.’ She cast an apologetic look in Fraser’s direction. ‘Silly female that I am, no doubt, but can you either dispose of it, or could we move on?’

‘As I’ve nothing to dispose of it with, unless I throw my jacket at it, we’ll go and leave the spiders to their supper.’

Morven shuddered. ‘Now that picture will stay in my mind for an age.’

Fraser hugged her and kissed her cheek in a most avuncular manner. ‘Shall I give you something else to think about?’ The pseudo-leer that accompanied his question was anything but platonic.

Morven slanted him a glance from under her eyelashes but didn’t reply. They made their way past the room Fraser had intimated he thought should be the dining room, back to the one semi-furnished bedroom, and once more stood by the window.

‘You didn’t reply. Shall I?’

She laughed. ‘You do that simply by being near.’

‘Oh good.’ He took her hand and traced the veins along the back. ‘Well before I get, ahem, nearer, what do you think of it all, honestly?’

A fire blazed in the grate, the windows sparkled and the long velvet curtains that dressed them spoke of warmth and intimacy. ‘What is there not to like—honestly?’ Morven said sincerely. ‘It is well kept, pretty, the perfect size for your mama and your siblings and everything about it works. All you need is more furniture.’ She held her fingers in the air and counted as she moved away from the window and into the centre of the room.

Near the bed.

‘Two maybe three weeks of work, and it will be ready for more than one person to live here.’

****

When he’d said the house was unfurnished, Fraser had fibbed a little. As well as the bed there was a table and two scrubbed chairs in the kitchen, an armchair and side table in the lounge and a dresser in the bedroom along with the bed and a washstand. He’d even made sure the bed
did
have bedding, and brought a couple of towels and a change of clothes over, so if he did stay the night he could wash and feel clean.

As Morven trailed her hand over the blue and cream Napier tartan spread he was glad he had made an effort with what little furniture there was. Even if she never came here again, he could now imagine her in this room. Use his imagination and think how it would be if she stretched out on the bed, lifted her arms in the air, beckoned to him and spoke in her soft arousing tones…

‘Fraser, come to me, make love with me, please?’

He blinked and almost rubbed his eyes. Either he was hallucinating, or Morven was doing exactly as he imagined. Had he spoken out loud? Surely not?

‘Can you read my mind?’ he asked hoarsely. ‘Or am I vocalising my fantasy?’

‘Neither,’ she said with a smile that shot straight to his groin. ‘But I hope you can read my thoughts.’

So did he. Fraser moved to the side of the bed and ran his finger down her arm. ‘Are you sure?’

She shivered and desire clouded her eyes. ‘Very sure.’

‘Then maybe we should be naked to make it easier.’ His voice shook and he wondered what she heard in it. Need? Hopes? Aspirations? Greed?

‘Oh definitely naked,’ Morven said softly in a voice that curled his toes. ‘Not just to make it easier, but so I can see you, store up memories for later.’

She sounded melancholy, and Fraser gave in to impulse. He pulled her into his arms and then let himself drop back onto the bed with her on top of him. ‘Oh we will make memories all right.’ With a lingering kiss to Morven’s temple, he rolled over so she was under him and began to undo the buttons down the front of her jacket. ‘Sweet ones. Hot ones, exciting and arousing ones.’

As each fastening opened, and he pushed the sides of the jacket apart, soft milky bare skin was revealed. Fraser let his breath out in a long agonised hiss. ‘Do you have anything on under this?’

Morven smiled and patted his cheek. ‘Not unless you count stockings and garters.’

Fraser paled. ‘Good Lord, woman, you’ll be the death of me. It’s as well I didn’t know that up the hill,’ he said in a strangled voice. ‘We’d not have got past the lookout point.’

‘Then I’m glad I didn’t mention it then. I fancied a bed and you.’ She wriggled back and forth on the silky sheet, beckoned him closer and pouted like the most annoying debutante until he laughed and pinched her ear.

‘No need to make faces; I’m happy to oblige, my love, but give me strength. Those erotic movements are guaranteed to send me over the edge.’ He dispensed with her jacket and turned to the tiny row of frogging and buttons that went from the waist to the hem of her skirt.

‘Novel,’ he commented, as he slid a finger under the waistband, ‘and far too many.’ He stroked the skin he could reach and was rewarded by her low moan.

‘You only need to undo the first five or so,’ Morven assured him, huskily. ‘Then it will slide off.’