Kilted Sin: Brethren of Stone

by Andresen, Tammy

  With one child on his hip and holding Fiona by the hand, he started racing after her. He looked ridiculous, he was sure, but he didn’t care. He needed to reach Gemma. Running faster, he called out, “Gemma, please stop.”

  He skidded around the corner and nearly collided with her, stopped on the street, her back to him. “Gemma?”

  She turned, tears streaking down her face. Both of his hands were full and so he reached for her with the one that held Ewan and pulled her toward them both. Gemma collapsed against his chest even as Fiona wrapped an arm around each of their waists. And there the four of them stood, Gemma crying, all of them hugging.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “Are you sorry for thinking the worst of me or are you apologizing over my ridiculous situation? Because you’re probably right to think I’m a terrible person.” She hiccupped. “Only someone awful would get what I’ve gotten from life.”

  He wanted to stroke her cheek but he couldn’t manage it so he dropped his nose to hers. “You’re not terrible. I’ve told ye all there is to know about me, just about. I’ve only now realized I haven’t asked ye a single thing in return. I think it’s time ye told me.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t want to know and I don’t want to tell you,” she said. “If you’ve a bad opinion of me now, wait until you hear why I’ve come to the Highlands.”

  He kissed her forehead. “I doubt it. Besides, ye probably don’t like me all that much either.”

  She swiped at her tears, her red nose looking rather adorable. “I don’t.”

  “See, so I’m the perfect person to tell. Who cares what I think?”

  One corner of her lip tilted up ever so slightly. “You’re my employer. I’m required to care what you think.”

  He let out a relieved breath. If he was still her employer than he hadn’t ruined their relationship completely. “Let’s go home. Shall we?”

  She nodded. “Let’s go home.”

  Warmth spread through his chest. Those words sounded so right. Maybe she should stay after all. Maybe the children should too. It had only been a few days and they already felt like his family. The thought made his breath stop in his chest.

  His brothers…had they struggled like this? He doubted it. They both had picture-perfect marriages. But still, even if this hadn’t begun flawlessly, maybe keeping all of them would be the best for everyone. Including him. With Gemma and the children by his side, he felt…whole. Had he been incomplete before? He kissed her forehead again. He’d convinced her to come back. That was a good start.

  * * *

  Gemma took a deep breath.

  She held Fiona’s hand as Will held the other. He looked over at her. “I need to get my horse, but maybe Fiona can ride him back while we walk.”

  Fiona did a little hop. “I’ve always wanted to ride a horse.” she exclaimed.

  They both laughed. Gemma shook her head. It’s not that she blamed Will for being suspicious but his doubt had still hurt. He was the first person she’d trusted in a long time and she wanted his in return. Not that she deserved it.

  When she thought back to her husband, she regretted his actions. His lack of commitment, his irresponsibility.

  But with Will, what she regretted was her own behavior. It was her who had wronged him.

  She also had to admit to herself that she’d expected something different today from her meeting with the magistrate. She’d thought Sean might have left her an inheritance to make amends. That he’d admit he’d done her wrong. Help her with her future.

  The man had managed to disappoint her again. She scrubbed her face with her hands. By all accounts, he’d started a new life and forgotten all about her. Except for the letter. She sucked in her breath. She couldn’t read it. Though she’d come here for answers, the more she learned, the worse it hurt. She clutched the paper tighter in her hands. What if Sean said it was her fault all along? That she had driven him away?

  Maybe it was her fault. Even her own mother stopped talking to her after she’d left.

  She rubbed the back of Fiona’s hand, clasped in hers. Of course Will hadn’t trusted her. She didn’t even trust herself.

  “My lord,” Mr. McLaren called from the doorway of the law office as they passed.

  Will stopped, Fiona stopped, and Gemma turned to look inside. The magistrate approached, holding out a folded sheet of paper. “If you’d like me to write back, let me know.” Then he handed the sheet to Will.

  Will let go of Fiona’s hand and stuffed the note in his pocket. “Thank ye.”

  “What is it?” Fiona whispered.

  Gemma squeezed her hand tighter, her heart thrumming in her chest.

  “Nothing ye need worry about, my little lass.” Will winked but his smile was thin, stretched tight across his face. “Let’s go home and see what Mrs. Hammond has made us fer lunch.”

  Ewan lay his head on Will’s shoulder. “Uh,” he mumbled before sticking his thumb in his mouth.

  They made their way back home, Fiona on the horse and Ewan asleep in Will’s arms. Gemma said little as she walked next to him. This wasn’t a time for words. Her mind and her heart were working through all that had happened.

  Looking over at Will, she studied his profile. His strong jaw flexed even as his muscled neck worked, the flesh rippling down beneath his shirt. She remembered that chest, his stomach. Gemma could still feel the press of his lips when she’d kissed him.

  While she wasn’t certain she deserved a man like Will, she knew she wanted him. More than she ever had any other.

  The house came into view. Will had called it home. She let out a sigh of contentment. It was a home, more so than she had had in years.

  Darting in front of Will, she gently took Ewan and curled him into one arm so that she could take Will’s hand with the other. “Thank you for coming after me today.” He laced his strong fingers into hers. “I understand why you don’t trust me, but I need you to know that I would never hurt Fiona and Ewan.”

  “I believe you.” He gave her a soft smile.

  Joy bubbled up inside her at the words. He believed her. Gemma made a vow. She’d be the woman he deserved.

  Chapter Eight

  Will fingered the paper inside his pocket as he sat by the fire, the day nearly done. He’d read the words several times over the course of the day. The paper had many a muddy print on them from his fingers. Every time he’d ceased running the plow, he’d opened it up to look again.

  A couple with a nearby croft were looking for two children. The Dunlearys had lost their own to disease and they’d be willing to take on Fiona and Ewan.

  In some ways, they could be ideal. The children had lost their parents in a similar fashion. It was the life they’d been meant to live.

  But now, he wasn’t sure he wanted them to go. In fact, he was nearly certain that they really belonged with him—and Gemma too.

  He considered sending them a letter with his regrets but their croft was near his brother Blair’s. And, what was more, he wanted to tell them about the orphanage that Fiona and Ewan had come from. There were more children who needed homes.

  With that in mind, he decided to journey to speak with the couple himself. He’d take the children and Gemma with him so that, after he’d talked with the Dunlearys, they might meet his family. Well a few of them, anyhow.

  A soft knock came at the door of his study. “Come in,” he called, setting the paper aside.

  Gemma opened the door. “Is everything all right?” she asked, her eyes going right to the folded up note on his desk.

  “It’s fine,” he replied, picking up the note and holding it out to her. She crossed the room and took it from his hand.

  After unfolding the parchment, her eyes scanned the page. Then she looked up at him, her eyes wide. “What will you do?”

  “I’m going to meet them,” he answered. “But I think Fiona and Ewan will live with me.”

  Gemma dropped the note back on his desk. Will’s cha
ir by the fire wasn’t a foot from the corner of the large cherry top. Without warning, Gemma plopped down in his lap, her feet dangling off one arm of the chair as she twisted her body to wrap her arms around his neck. As her behind wiggled against his legs his whole body tightened. Her cheek pressed to his as she whispered in his ear, “You’re a good man, William Sinclair.”

  He opened his mouth to tell her that she should meet the rest of the Sinclairs. But before he could get the words out, she pressed her lips to his. The push of her bosom against his chest made his throat rumble with desire as he held her hip and his other hand slid up her rib cage. She parted her lips and touched her tongue to his.

  The desire that had been embers between them lit into a blaze. He reached her chest and cupped one of her breasts, then kneaded the flesh. She groaned and arched into the touch even as their kiss deepened. Lifting her, which was far too easy—he made a mental note to feed her even more—he straddled her across his lap. She yanked at the buttons on his shirt, pulling it open as she raked her hands up and down his chest.

  The touch sent delicious shivers through his flesh as their kiss heightened the tension between them. Holding her backside in both hands, they moved together, even with the clothing between them. He wanted to savor this, to draw it out and make it last, but inertia and passion were spinning them to dizzying heights.

  He gathered her skirts in his hand until they were bunched up about her waist. “Yer so lovely,” he murmured as his hands slid down her legs.

  “I want to feel you,” she said back and then tugged at the buttons of his breeches until they were undone enough for him to wiggle down the pants. Lifting herself a little, she shifted so that he was sliding inside of her.

  She was so warm and wet that he let out a groan of satisfaction, which was drowned out only by hers. Her eyes half open, her lips parted, she began to move on top of him, her moans quick and needy. Always beautiful, he caught his breath as he looked at her. Gemma was stunning now.

  He watched her, Will’s own passion building at her pleasure and the feel of her on top of him.

  Her insides tightened around him, making it difficult to hold back as her moans grew faster and louder. He felt her spasm around him and his own climax broke. “Gemma,” he grunted as her lips crashed down on his again.

  Her forehead pressed to his as their ragged breaths mingled. “That was…” she started.

  “What?” he asked, his hands giving her hips a little squeeze.

  “Divine,” she answered.

  They both chuckled and then he stood, taking her with him. It had been divine. But Will had questions and it was time to get answers.

  “What are you doing,” she asked as he lifted her off him and set her lightly on the ground to begin fixing her clothing.

  “We are going somewhere more private where we can talk.” He ran his hand down her cheek. “And then we are going to make love slowly and thoroughly where I can explore every inch of you.”

  Her cheeks heated as she pulled up his pants and buttoned his shirt. Then, taking her hand, he led her to the door. He could only hope this conversation went well. It was getting harder to think of his life without her.

  * * *

  Gemma didn’t want to talk.

  It wasn’t that she wanted to keep secrets. But she was afraid what he might think when he’d heard her story. “Slowly making love sounds excellent.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “Why ruin a perfectly good evening with words?”

  He quirked a brow at her. “Gemma, I want you to stay too, but I need to ken ye better. We’ll never build trust if ye don’t share.”

  She grimaced, her chin dropping. “Fine,” she mumbled. They reached his room and he stepped inside, pulling her with him. Showing her to a chair, he turned and stoked the fire.

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Gemma took a breath. “I married Sean McLaren when I was seventeen.” Gemma couldn’t quite look at him so she stared into the flames. “My mother told me not to but I was so headstrong and sure I knew better. I loved him and I thought I was ready to be a wife.”

  “The first few months were lovely but then…” She told him about Sean losing his job, spending all his time at the pub, her fears, and the whispers about other women. “I’d followed him to Dundee. It was a day’s ride to my mother’s village near Perth and we weren’t speaking anyhow. I had no friends, just a few neighbors. One day, I’d had enough and I got right in his face and told him that if he didn’t get a job, help feed and clothe us, that he could leave. The next day he did.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “He didn’t say he was leaving me. What he said was that there were no jobs in our area. That he was going to go to the Highlands. He’d heard there was steady work farming and he wanted to see if it was true. Sean said once he’d set up a home and had steady work, he’d send for me.”

  She couldn’t go on. It hurt too much.

  “Did he send for you?” Will asked so quietly, she almost didn’t hear him.

  “No. He sent me a few letters, saying it would be soon but after a while they just stopped.” Her shoulders hunched. “At first I was waiting. Then even after I understood, I stayed in Dundee. I’d started a business doing laundry. I supported myself and I hadn’t spoken to my mother in years. I need to apologize but the words are so hard.”

  “Knowing that you need to is half the battle.” He reached for her hand. “Why did you come up here now?”

  “I received a letter from Mr. McLaren which said I had an inheritance. I saved every penny for six months to make this trip and in the end, it wasn’t enough. I went days without eating and I walked the last fifty miles.” More tears streaked down her cheeks. “I was desperate when I saw you on the road and men hadn’t really been my allies. Sean wrung me out and the men in my village…I had no father and no family, they—” She stopped at his low rumble.

  “Did anyone hurt you?”

  That stopped her tears. She looked at him. His face was set in angry lines. Standing, she crossed the short distance to where he sat and once again sat on his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck. “No, you’ve seen me. I’m not an easy woman to take advantage of.” She smiled a little and he did too. “But I wanted you to understand why I stole from you. I was growing harder, colder, and more desperate. I should have taken my money and returned to my mum but instead I came here chasing Sean all over again. I knew he was dead but, in my heart, I thought the inheritance was his way of apologizing.”

  “Was it?” He’d wrapped his arms about her waist and held her tight.

  She shuddered. The press of his body was a comfort she couldn’t articulate but it calmed her, soothed her, and her body melted into his. “No,” she said. “He hadn’t meant for his watch and pocket change to be mine at all. He’d just had a letter in his pocket for me so they couldn’t turn them over to Mary.”

  “Mary?” he asked, his eyes widening. “Not Mary McLaren?”

  Gemma leaned her face away, her body still pressed to his. “She took his last name? He was already married.”

  Will’s jaw ticked. “I don’t ken a thing about it. I only met her a few weeks ago. But she has two small boys.”

  “Sean and Fergus.” Gemma shuddered. She didn’t want to know any more than she already did. “The house she lives in. It belongs to me. I have first right to the lease. That’s why I came up here. I was his wife whether he wanted me to be or not.”

  Will took a long deep breath, it pushed against her chest. “I understand and yer right. But try to remember that she has two little ones. I’ve spent the last three days plowing that field to try and keep those kids from ending up like Fiona and Ewan.”

  She pushed further away until she was teetering on the edge of his lap. Her mind buzzed with the hurt and anger that swirled inside her head. “She had children with a man who was already married. He left me with nothing. I deserve something from that marriage.”

  Will gave her a long stare. Seconds ticked by and he said nothing as his li
ps pursed together. Finally, he broke the silence. “What Sean did was wrong. If he weren’t dead, I’d punch him hard in the nose for ye. Though, ye’d be his wife so I wouldn’t have the right. But what he did to Mary. It was worse. I’ve seen her. You’re strong and beautiful. She is broken, Gemma. A shell of a woman barely hanging on.”

  Pity twisted in her stomach but she pushed it away. Gemma didn’t want to think about Sean’s other woman. She had her own woes, her own wrongs she was trying to right. Standing, she looked down at Will. “I need to think.”

  He gave a nod. “You can stay and think here.”

  But Gemma shook her head. She wanted to be alone. His embrace made her feel safer and more secure than any place in Scotland. But she had to make decisions when she was alone. Because that was how she always ended up. “I appreciate the offer but it’s best if I think on my own.”

  Gemma turned. As she walked toward the door, her feet dragged across the wood. She wanted to stay. He’d offered to make love to her slowly. Her eyes drifted closed for a second. It would be such bliss. But, she’d come here for a reason and it wasn’t to bed handsome lairds. Despite what had just happened between her and Will, she couldn’t allow that to get in the way of what she’d come for. She needed closure after Sean and she needed to build her own life that a man couldn’t trample.

  Chapter Nine

  Will woke early. Tomorrow, he’d go see the couple who’d offered to adopt Fiona and Ewan. But today? Today he’d finish seeding Mary’s plot.

  He didn’t tell Gemma this but it had been within his right to just evict Mary. Part of the agreement was that the fields be planted by a certain date. Mary couldn’t fulfill the obligation. He’d done the work himself, needing the money from the plot. He planned to hire Mary in the house as soon as he could afford it and move the family into a cottage nearby. Then he’d rent the property to an able farmer.