by Platt, Meara
“Och, no. And I’ve been keeping careful watch. The snow has stopped, but there’s still an icy drizzle. There’s no moon either, for the clouds are a thick blanket covering the sky. They’re not breaking up, either, or moving out to sea despite the howling wind. I canno’ see a bloody thing outside. Nor can I imagine a man surviving all day in that weather. Even this villain would need to find shelter, and we know all the outbuildings are under watch. Chances are, he returned to wherever he’s been hiding out, and will come for me tomorrow.”
“Perhaps. I hope so. Not that I wish him to get anywhere near Hartland. But every day he lingers in the vicinity increases our chances of catching him before he ever gets close to you and Rafe.”
She swung her legs off the bed and reached down to find her boots. “I’ll be out of your way in a moment, my lord.”
“Blessed saints, lass. Ye’re not in the way. Ye looked like an angel curled up beside my son. I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight in my bed.” He groaned as he ran a hand roughly through his hair. “That did not come out quite how I intended.”
“I understand what you meant, my lord.” She knew he only wanted to say that she and Rafe were sleeping contentedly. “It is my sincere hope that you and your son will find peace again soon. Be at ease, I am awake now and shall be on guard.”
She’d donned her boots and now took a moment to smooth the wrinkles out of her gown. Then she went over to peer out the window, careful only to peek from behind the drapes. Anyone standing outdoors would notice the firelight emanating from the bedchamber and easily spot someone outlined in the window.
But the villain would go unnoticed since he was standing alone in the dark. For all she knew, he could be aiming his pistol at her now. She doubted he would shoot while outdoors. Between the icy rain and strong wind, he could not be sure of the trajectory, assuming his pistol was powerful enough to propel the shot through this window.
No, the man would come at them from inside the house.
She stepped away and crossed the room to check the panel to the servants stairs. She then poked her head out the door to see if anyone was in the hallway. Satisfied no one was lurking, she bolted the door and moved the stool beside the hearth to take up her usual position.
From her vantage point she could see every access point.
The marquis’s boots thudded on the carpet as he took them off before settling his large frame on the bed. “Lass,” he said, calling to her with a soft chuckle. “Ye needn’t worry. I’ll no’ be removing anything more.”
“I’m a professional, my lord. I won’t be distracted by anything you do.”
He tucked his hands behind his head. “Is that so? Perhaps I’ll put it to the test once we’re safely through this mess.”
She could feel his grin from across the room.
“I suppose you think yourself a great wit.”
He chuckled again. “Och, lass. I’m going to miss yer smart mouth when this is over.”
I’ll miss you, too.
But she made no further response.
She was now on duty, one hand within immediate reach of her pistol and the other holding the ornate fire iron. She could clobber someone with it quite effectively.
As the hours passed, her back became stiff, but she did not like to roam too far from her excellent vantage point. She rose on occasion to toss another log onto the fire or to tiptoe across the room to peer out the window.
The villain was watching.
She sensed it.
What a madman he must be to risk his own life in the bitter cold for a delusion of love that Vera had never felt for him. Goosebumps tingled up her arms, but she wasn’t afraid. Merely on edge now that this wicked man was closing in on his prey.
The marquis could not have slept more than four hours before he was up again and slipping his feet into his boots. Rafe, however, was sleeping like a lamb. “Tell me more about yerself, Taffy.”
She was surprised by the request. What more did he need to know about her? “I’ve already told you that I spent my early years in an orphanage and was soon taken in by a good and decent family.”
“How did ye come to read and write as well as ye do? And your accent is that of an educated lady.”
“The Ralstons thought I was unusually clever for a girl and decided I ought to be schooled. They gave me a good education to prepare me for making my own way in life.”
He frowned lightly. “Did they not intend to provide for ye beyond yer childhood?”
“No. Why should they when they have nephews and nieces, and other family members to provide for? I am always welcomed for the holidays, and they send me little gifts from time to time.”
“But they do not treat ye as their own daughter,” he said with a curious sense of indignation.
Also, he’d stated it as a fact rather than posed it as a question, which meant he understood her circumstances quite perfectly. “They’ve shown me plenty of love. They raised me kindly and educated me, even helped me make a new start. I was allowed to take on their name. They treated me better than many parents treat their own children.”
“Aye, lass. I’ll not deny that. But why did they send ye off?”
“Isn’t this what children are supposed to do? Make something of themselves and start their own families? I know this is different in your upper class, for you need to keep your heir close to learn his duties, and you also prepare your other children to form advantageous alliances. But for those of us not so fortunate, it is expected that we make our own way.”
“Aye, ye want the lads to be able to stand on their own. Ye want the heir to be able to lead the clan and provide for them. But daughters ye keep close and protect them until they become wives and mothers themselves. And ye still protect them ever after. Ye dinna abandon a lass to fend for herself.”
“Are you purposely trying to hurt me, my lord?”
“Och, no.” He raked a hand through his hair again. “I’m simply trying to understand how anyone can ever let go of a girl like you.”
She was ready to fling back an impertinent retort, for she’d had enough of his disparaging the Ralstons when they’d fed and clothed her, provided shelter and an education for her. Then she realized what he’d just said. “Did you just compliment me?”
“Aye, lass.”
She swallowed hard. “Thank you.”
He cast her a wry smile. “I dinna mean to speak ill of the Ralstons. It is obvious they treated ye verra well. But lass, ye’re a rare pearl. How is it that they let ye go? Or that no man has yet to snatch ye up?”
She tossed daggers at him with her glare. “Snatch me up?”
“Och, dinna be offended again. I meant courted ye and married ye. It leaves me puzzled, that’s all. If I’d ever met ye, I’d never let ye go.”
“My lord, are you still half asleep? You have met me. You will let me go and never see me again once this assignment is over and done.”
He regarded her silently for a long moment and then more, so that she was squirming uncomfortably under the glare of his scrutiny.
“Lass,” he said in that deep, heart melting brogue of his, “what makes ye think I intend to let ye go?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
TAFFY GAPED AT him, her pretty mouth flapping open so that she looked like a trout caught on a hook. A pretty trout, of course. “You’ve done it now,” she said in an angry whisper, waving the fire iron in front of his face.
Gavin took it out of her hand and set it back in its place beside the hearth. He folded his arms across his chest and stared back at Taffy. “What have I done to rouse yer ire, lass?” Other than make that outrageous declaration about wanting her. Which he did want her, only he had not sorted it all out yet in his mind.
He wasn’t certain yet what to do about her…other than knowing she had to remain in his life.
That would really get her in an uproar.
He knew better than to share his feelings with her now. He’d already said too much. Indeed, it was
idiotic of him to say anything. They both needed to keep their wits about them and concentrate on protecting his son.
“Are you serious? My lord, your arrogance leaves me speechless.”
“And ye’ve left me breathless.” Och, he was doing it again. Why couldn’t he just shut his mouth? Or offer her a meaningless apology? Or stop feeling the way he was feeling about the lass and go on about his life?
It was the damn mobcap she’d taken off and had not bothered to put back on again. Hidden beneath that little white cap was a lush mane of dark red hair that would make any proud Scot weep for the beauty of it.
She curled her hands into fists. “Stop it. Just stop your ridiculous flirtations. I am nothing more than a housemaid.”
“Ye’re a Bow Street runner, to be precise. Ye’re also a rare pearl, as I’ve just told ye. And I’ll tell ye something else. Until yesterday, I never understood what Vera felt about her MacPherson beau. I foolishly dismissed the pain in her heart and resented her for it.”
Blessed saints. He needed to stop talking. “But I dinna any longer. Ye stir something in me, lass. Something deep and aching in my soul. I now understand how Vera must have ached for the MacPherson. It is no’ a feeling any of us can control. Which explains why I am spilling my heart to ye, obviously babbling like an idiot.”
She was very quick to agree with him, especially about the idiot part.
He overlooked her comment. “I dinna know how it is possible to fall in love in a day.”
“It isn’t possible,” she said, frowning.
Aye, she did not bother to hide her irritation, but all he saw was the blaze in her beautiful eyes and the indignant purse of her lips. Her ugly gown was buttoned to her neck and he was still in palpitations over what lay hidden beneath that unsightly sack of cloth.
“I dinna know why it had to be with ye, lass. It would be easier on all of us if it weren’t. But so be it. Ye’re the woman who will always hold my heart.”
He swore she was about to punch him in the nose, so he took her fisted hands and held them firmly in his. “Will ye deny ye have feelings for me?”
“Of course, I will deny it.”
“And I’ll not believe it. I’m no green boy, but a man full grown. Fool yerself, but ye canno’ fool me. I’ve seen the way ye look at me when ye think I’m not looking.”
“You are my assignment.”
“Do ye look at all yer assignments with soul-searing desire? Dinna bother to deny it. Ye’re too innocent to understand the physical aspect of what ye’re feeling. But I know, and at the proper time I’ll show ye what a man and woman can share.”
He felt her hands tremble in his and gave them a light, comforting squeeze. “I will no’ take ye for my mistress. I want ye for my wife, but I’ll be honest with ye. I dinna know yet if this is possible. Were I not my father’s heir, I would no’ think twice about it.”
“But you are his heir. It is impossible.”
“No, lass. There has to be a way.”
“Please, my lord. Say no more. I will not deny I have developed feelings for you, and it does not make me happy in the least. To end up like Lady Vera, desperately sad and pining for a true love I can never have, is no way to live one’s life.”
“I will not lose ye, Taffy. Give me time to figure it out. But I had to tell ye what’s in my heart.”
“No, my lord. You didn’t. You ought to have kept it to yourself and not given me hope.” Tears filled her eyes. “Did you think I was strong enough to take all of this in and not have my heart shatter?”
“Aye, lass. I did.” He caressed her cheek. “Foolish of me, I can see that now.”
Foolish and cruel of him. He’d done nothing but twist a dagger in her heart. She was a foundling, never having had a family to claim as her own. Even the Ralstons, for all their affection, had fallen short of truly making her their own daughter. Now here he was blathering about his feelings and in the same breath telling her that he could not marry her and make them a true family.
Indeed, he was cruel.
“Taffy, I know it is too late to take back these words. Nor do I want to take them back. I love ye, lass. Rafe loves ye, too.” He released her hands to cup her face, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away a few, stray tears that had spilled onto her cheeks. “I love ye.”
He bent his head to hers. “I would no’ kiss ye if I dinna love ye.”
And then he kissed her, intending it to be a gentle emphasis to his declaration. But desperate feelings did not allow for patience or politeness. He swallowed her up in his embrace, drawing her up against him and turning to fire the moment he felt the soft press of her breasts against his chest and the accidental touch of her hip against his loins.
“Put yer arms around my neck, lass,” he whispered before crushing his lips to hers with ravenous longing and losing himself in the taste of her mouth, the sweetness of her touch, the intoxicating beauty of her body.
He knew it would be like this.
He knew she would fit perfectly against him, that the scent of her skin would be Highlands lavender, that her hair would be lush and the color of a silken flame. That she wouldn’t know how to kiss, but would yield to him anyway with captivating innocence.
He knew she would be soft and warm, and meant for him.
When had he ever poured his heart into a kiss?
Sadly, never before.
Not with Vera, although he’d tried to be gentle and patient with her. But it was hard to open one’s heart to a wife whose heart was closed to yours.
Certainly never with any of the women who had come before his betrothal to Vera or since her death. He hadn’t strayed during the marriage despite having Vera’s blessing to do so. She hadn’t wanted him, could barely endure his touch. But she had been raised to do her duty without complaint, so that is what she had always done, closed her eyes and silently waited for him to finish.
He would hear her crying after he returned to his bedchamber, for only an adjoining door separated his chamber from hers.
But this was Taffy and he knew that she loved him even if she would not say it.
He slid his tongue along her full, lower lip and then dipped it into her mouth. She took it in, even shocking herself by sucking lightly on it and then gasping against his mouth, obviously worried she’d done something wrong.
When he made no complaint, she did it again, slightly bolder this time. Before long, their tongues were in an excited tangle, dancing around each other.
He cupped her breast and softly kneaded the ample mound in his palm. She moaned but did not draw away. When she arched into him, he teased the bud by slowly swirling his thumb over it and felt his own body respond when it hardened in response to his touch.
Blessed saints.
He wanted this lass, was starved for her. Indeed, she fed his famished heart.
He broke off the kiss to look at her, fascinated by the perfection of her face. He began to kiss her neck, her throat, and lower so that his mouth closed over her breast, taking in her lush ripeness along with a mouthful of wool. But he only lingered there a moment before putting a stop to his actions, knowing he could now allow matters to go too far.
He dared not undress her, for his own son would wake to find them in a most awkward position. Anyway, her uniform had too many buttons to easily undo and then close back up. To slide his hand up her gown and touch her as he wished would also have to wait.
To be crass about it, his fingers were not the only thing he wanted to slip inside her, and he did not think she would stop him once he had her hot and aroused to passion.
“My lord…” Her eyes were wide and filled with wonder.
His eyes probably reflected his smoldering heat. “Blessed saints, lass. Call me Gavin.”
“Why? Because you kissed my breast?”
“No, lass.” Lord, she was impertinent. “But did ye mind that I did?”
She shook her head and looked down at her toes. “No, it was quite thrilling.”
“It’s better when we have no clothes on.” He was not about to show her now. Rafe was starting to stir. He could hear the lad tossing and turning which meant he was coming out of his deep sleep.
He kissed her once again lightly on the lips. “You will enjoy it, and it is something we shall do if ye are willing. I shall have you lost in pleasure and howling like the wind is howling outside our window just now.”
She looked up at him and laughed.
Then she stopped laughing and her eyes widened again. “You’re serious?”
He nodded.
“And what will you do while I howl?”
He caressed her cheek. “Fall a little deeper in love with ye, lass.”
She nibbled her lip and frowned. “I am not going to call you Gavin.”
“Fine. I understand it’s best not to while ye’re still on duty.”
She met his gaze. “I am never going to call you Gavin. Your kiss was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. You and your son are the most wonderful people I’ve ever met in my life. But a foundling by the made up name of Taffy Ralston will never become Lady Falkirk. Let’s not pretend it will happen. My heart is already in pieces knowing that it cannot.”
She drew away and walked to the window, still frustrated that it was too dark to see anything outdoors. “He’s out there. I feel it in my bones. I feel it to the marrow.”
He checked the pistol in his boot and then headed for the door. “It is not in my nature to sit and do nothing while an enemy plots to attack.”
“Stop!” She stared at him in alarm. “What are you going to do?”
“Check the doors and windows as I did the first night. As I should have done last night.”
“Mr. Barrow took care of it.”
He nodded. “I know, lass. But now I will do it myself as I ought to have done. Watch my son. Take care of yerself. And one more thing.” He stalked back to her side and kissed her long and hard. “Taffy Ralston, I will marry ye.”
He strode out.
Aye, he was going to marry her.