A Rake for All Seasons: A Regency and Victorian Romance Boxset

Home > Other > A Rake for All Seasons: A Regency and Victorian Romance Boxset > Page 65
A Rake for All Seasons: A Regency and Victorian Romance Boxset Page 65

by Samantha Holt


  “I have been here all evening,” she said with a teasing smile.

  “And yet I have barely been able to say two words to ye.”

  “You are quite in demand, are you not, Laird McTavish?”

  “Aye.” He chuckled. “Did ye no’ know I am the talk o’ the town?”

  “Really? And here I had not heard a thing of you until we met.”

  “Och, ye hadnae been listening properly. That’s yer problem, lass.”

  They moved apart as the couples came down the line, and they weaved about the others before meeting again. “Ye dance well for a highlander,” she remarked.

  “And ye dance well for a country lass.”

  “I taught myself. Mrs. Shaw and Miss Taylor were frightfully sick of being dragged into my pretend balls as a child.”

  “Ye have never danced at any balls?”

  She shook her head. “My aunt would not allow it.”

  “I hope,” he said sincerely, “that she will allow ye more dances in the future.”

  “I hope so too. I think she is thoroughly charmed by you. You could probably ask anything of her and she would accept.”

  “I dinnae think I have ever managed to charm anyone.”

  A soft smile graced her lips. “Well, you have charmed two people of late.”

  Chapter Nine

  It had been impossibly hard to keep her attention on anyone but Hamish. He looked so incredibly handsome in his regimental jacket and kilt. With his jaw clean shaven, his hair slightly tamed, he made Rose’s heart stutter every time he glanced her way.

  And, goodness, they had danced together. For the first time in her life, she had danced with a man.

  She had danced with other men too, but Hamish had been her first, and best. Honestly, she never wanted the night to end.

  It would soon enough, however. A few guests had already left and though some danced, a couple were showing signs of weariness. Her aunt May remained propped in the corner with a glass of punch, seeming very at home speaking with Lady Gladstone. The woman was of a similar age to Aunt May, and it made Rose smile to see the two women gossiping. It had never occurred to her that her aunt might wish to spend more time with other people. It had always seemed that her aunt was content with isolating herself—and her niece along with her. Perhaps she could persuade her aunt to spend more time with some of their neighbors.

  “Come here.”

  She whirled and Hamish took her hand, dragging her away from the hall and into a recess by one of the windows. They were out of sight but not technically out of the room.

  “Hamish!” She pressed a hand to her chest. “You startled me.”

  And, oh, how he continued to. Her pulse beat like galloping horse hooves at his proximity. She could smell the faintest hint of soap and see the scar on his neck. One day she would ask him about that.

  “We should not be alone,” she whispered, glancing around his large body to see if anyone could see them.

  “Just for a moment. No one will notice, I swear.”

  “But, Hamish…”

  “I had to see ye alone, Rose. It’s been a torturous night.”

  She smiled and nodded her agreement. It had. All she had wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and receive his kisses.

  “Thank you for inviting us. Even Aunt May has enjoyed herself.”

  “I’m glad, but ye know I only had one reason for even hosting this debacle.”

  “You did?”

  “Aye. It was ye, lass. I wanted a chance to invite ye here, to show ye my home and…”

  “And…”

  “Well, kiss ye if I got the damned chance.” He dropped his lips quickly to hers, the warm touch so fleeting that she was hardly sure it had happened yet a soft sensation budded inside her.

  “A dinner party all for one kiss. Goodness, you must be desperate.”

  “Och, I am.” He shook his head. “Ye have no idea.”

  He eyed her for a moment, searching deep in her gaze. Rose was held captive. Unable to move, unable to think. He dropped another kiss on her lips before glancing around.

  “I should like to court ye, Rose.”

  She started at him for some time, the words ringing around in her head. A few weeks ago she could not have imagined a braw highlander, or any man for that matter, wishing to court her. Now this was happening…she resisted the desire to pinch herself.

  “Rose?”

  “Forgive me. You took me by surprise.”

  “I would have thought I’d made my feelings clear by now. I dinnae go around kissing every woman, ye know.”

  “Yes, I think I do. I simply meant things have happened so quickly. I could not have conceived you asking me such things not long ago.”

  “They have happened quickly, but I am no’ a man to waste my time. In battle, I made decisions quickly. I saw lives taken away by indecision. I have no wish to miss out on happiness because I couldnae make a decision swiftly. I know what I want, Rose, and it’s ye.”

  She reached to touch the lapel of his jacket, focusing her gaze on the gold trim there for a moment, allowing herself a brief respite from his intense gaze.

  “No one has over spoken to me so.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I should very much like you to court me.”

  His grin expanded. “I shall call on yer aunt soon and speak with her.”

  “I am sure she will have no objections.”

  “Hopefully not or else I shall have to find some other thief to tackle.”

  A scream drew Hamish’s attention from her. He whipped his head around and groaned. A dog barked.

  “Rupert,” they both said.

  Hamish darted out of the alcove, and Rose waited but a moment before following suit. The dog ran from person to person, scrabbling up gowns and breeches and generally causing chaos. Drinks spilled and women cried out. Rupert knocked over a candelabra as Hamish tried to grab him.

  The dog sprinted past, toward her. Rose put out her hands in invitation but the dog, in spite of hardly being that large, refused to slow down and caught her so that she tumbled to the floor. Rupert barreled on, buoyed with excitement at the sight of all these people in his home. He did a few more laps of the hall whilst Hamish aided Rose to her feet, then Rupert darted out of the doorway into the entrance hall.

  Hamish cursed. “I dinnae ken how he got out. He was meant to be locked upstairs. I knew he’d be too excited.”

  “You had better see if you can catch him.”

  He sighed and nodded, leaving the room. Aunt May came to join her. “Are you all right, my dear?”

  “Yes, just a little tumble.”

  “What a wild dog.”

  “He’s just a little excitable.” Rose frowned and glanced up as something caught her eye. A woman stood on the balcony, a twisted smile on her face as she watched everyone below. Dressed in emerald green, she looked ready for the party yet she had not seen her once. Rose recognized her as the late laird’s mistress, but what was she still doing here? She caught Rose staring and her bitter smile deepened before she turned and entered the upper chambers. What was she doing in Hamish’s castle?

  Most of the guests were readying to leave after the dog had put an end to the dance. Aunt May took her arm. “We should think of leaving too.”

  “I would like to make sure Rupert is well.”

  Her aunt sighed. “Very well. Let me say farewell to Lady Gladstone before she goes.”

  Rose nodded absently and stared at the doorway where the woman had vanished. Something about her unnerved Rose.

  By the time Hamish had returned to the Great Hall, all had left apart from her and Aunt May. He grimaced. “My guests likely think me rude.”

  “Not at all. I think everyone has had an excellent evening,” Aunt May assured.

  “Rupert slipped out of the castle. I fear he’ll run off again.”

  “Perhaps he will return in the morning,” her aunt suggested.

  “The mutt is daft, unfortunately. When he gets over-
excited there’s no telling what he will do.”

  “We should go look for him,” Rose announced, touched by the worry grooved deep into his brow. “I will help.”

  Aunt May scowled. “It’s getting cold out, Rose, and likely to rain.”

  “Aye, I cannae ask ye to risk yer health for a dog, but I will have to search for him. I apologize for my rudeness, but I cannae leave him out there.”

  “Aunt,” Rose pressed. There was no chance she was leaving Hamish to look for him on his own.

  “Oh, very well.” She pulled off her shawl. “Wrap this about you and be careful.”

  Rose nodded and did as she was told, bundling the shawl tight about her shoulders.

  “I could find ye a jacket though I fear it would drown ye,” he offered.

  “Yes, it would and likely hinder me more than anything. I will be well enough. It is not the first time I have been out in the cold.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be but a moment.”

  When he returned, he was wearing a thick, practical jacket and tatty boots. Although she missed the elegance of his regimental wear, she rather liked the plain look. It reminded her of when she had first met him. He held the lamp in his hand aloft, and they set out together calling his name.

  “Damned dog,” he muttered as they paused to listen for any sign of him.

  Rose glanced back at the castle, the windows aglow against the inky blackness of the hills. “However did he get out?”

  “None of the servants would have let him out, not on purpose at least. They know well enough the chaos he can cause. He must have slipped out.”

  Rose longed to ask about the woman. She had an inkling it had been her who had let him out and she had come to watch the mess he caused, but it didn’t seem the right time whilst he was fretting over the dog.

  “Rupert!” he bellowed.

  They trudged along farther, getting nearer to the forest. “You do not suppose he has gone to Aunt May’s house, do you?”

  “He could have done, but I dinnae think he would have the sense to follow the scent. Each time he’s dashed off, I’ve found him somewhere else.”

  “Rupert is a mischief.”

  “Aye, that is one way of putting it.”

  “How would you put it?”

  “A pain in the arse.”

  She laughed. “That too.” They stopped again. Though the night was dark, the lamp cast enough glow for them to see through the trees. “Perhaps we should check around the castle first. If he has gone to my aunt’s house, we will find him when we return.”

  “Aye. I’ll see ye ladies home, and we can see if we dinnae find Rupert somewhere in the fields.”

  “Why Rupert, Hamish? It is hardly a dog-like name.”

  “I served with a Rupert in my first year of fighting. He was a good man and taught me a lot. He died at the Siege of San Sebastian.”

  “I am sorry.” She pressed a hand over her mouth. “I should not have said anything. I meant no insult to your friend’s memory.”

  He shook his head. “Och, I know ye would never mean any harm. Yer a good lass, Rose. I do wish the damned dog hadn’t taken on some of the man’s traits though. He was known for getting over-exited at balls too.”

  As they made their way back to the keep, a light spatter of rain started up. Rose grimaced. Drops hung on her delicately curled hair, near dragging them to the ground. And to think how Miss Taylor had so diligently helped her. While the rain increased, her hair drooped ever lower and began to stick to her face.

  “We had better make haste,” Hamish said, tugging off his evening jacket and slinging it over her shoulders.

  Though the rain had soaked through her spencer and gown, the instant warmth of the thick material and the scent of Hamish washed over her. She huddled deeper into the heavy, large garment.

  He offered her a hand as large puddles developed on the ground. Droplets hung from her lashes and the skies were utterly steel grey. Ahead the castle looked tantalizingly close, but the sodden ground clung onto her slippers like a deadly sea creature trying to drag her to her doom. Her satin slippers were ruined and next to useless in this weather. How she longed for her half-boots.

  Her next step forward saw her ankle deep in a puddle. She let out a groan. Hamish put an arm about her waist and hauled her out. There went her slipper. She eyed the pale pink satin before it vanished under the boggy ground.

  “I fear it is gone.”

  Rose nodded, glanced up at him, and giggled. Droplets hung from his brim and trailed down his nose. He looked exceedingly handsome. The rain had only darkened his hair, curling the locks at the base of his neck. His skin somehow suited being damp. The entire event merely added an air of attractiveness to him.

  Whilst she…Rose peered down at herself…had fallen victim to the weather most horribly. Mud trailed up her white gown. Splatters of it had reached as far as her bodice. She was now missing a shoe and her hair clung close to her head. Any semblance of attractiveness or beauty was gone.

  He eyed her for a moment, shook his head with a grin, and tugged her close. They continued up toward the castle, Hamish aiding her across the boggy grass.

  He paused not far from the castle. “Bloody dog.”

  The curse came suddenly, and Rose paused with him. When she looked in the direction of the keep, she saw why.

  “Oh goodness.”

  Rupert sat on the steps to the castle, tucked under the eaves so that he was perfectly dry. Rose put a hand to her mouth to smother a giggle.

  “Do not be angry at him.”

  Hamish gave a huff. “Bloody, bloody dog.” But she saw the smile that quirked his lips.

  They made their way to the steps, and Hamish dropped down onto one next to Rupert. The dog jumped in excitement, licking Hamish’s face. He laughed and ruffled the dog’s head.

  “Yer a bad boy,” he scolded. “Look what ye’ve done to Rose.”

  Rose sat herself next to Rupert and gave him a fuss. “I am not sure Rupert can be held accountable for the weather.”

  Hamish looked at her. His gaze locked onto hers. The steady pitter-patter of the rain vanished. Her heavy breathing became the only sound in existence. His gaze fell to her lips, and she could not help do the same. Every fiber of her being willed him to her, to close the gap, to hold her close.

  He reached out, a finger flicking away a wet curl that clung to her face. That finger trailed down and urged up her chin. She was powerless to break away—not that she wanted to. This braw Scotsman had some hold over her, and she liked it too much.

  He swept his lips across hers, and a groan rumbled from him. He tasted wet mostly, then warm with a hint of brandy. He pressed his lips harder to hers and she latched her hands around his neck, for fear he might end the kiss too soon. His mouth moved carefully over hers, making her stomach whirl and dance.

  When he finally broke away, he kept her close, the dog between them and watching them with interest. In spite of her wet garments, heat suffused her from head to toe. Rupert gave them both a lick for their troubles and they laughed.

  “I have been wanting to do that all evening.” Hamish’s voice was rough and gritty.

  “I have been wanting you to do that all evening,” she confessed.

  His gaze searched her face. “I must away to town for a week or so tomorrow.”

  She hoped her disappointment did not reveal itself on her face but apparently it must have, as he cupped her chin and smiled into her eyes.

  “It shall pass quickly, I promise. And when I return…”

  His gaze fell to her lips once more and Rose knew what was coming. He pressed a swift kiss to her mouth.

  “When I return, I shall speak to yer aunt.”

  “Yes,” she said breathily.

  “I shall court ye, Rose, in the manner ye deserve.” His smile was soft, almost wistful. “I want ye for myself, lass. I want ye as mine.”

  Chapter Ten

  Rose eyed the overgrown bush. “You need a good trim,” s
he told the plant, brandishing her shears. It seemed to tremble a little at the threat. “I’ll be gentle,” she promised.

  The previous week’s rain had vanished, leaving the past few days dry, if a little windy. Wind, she could manage and it did not prevent her from going out, so she didn’t mind.

  If it had rained, she was not sure how she would have coped. The thought of Hamish travelling on sodden roads made her stomach twist, not to mention she was entirely unable to keep still while he was gone. Goodness, she hoped he returned soon.

  “Impatient girl,” she scolded herself.

  “I think when you talk to plants, you’re meant to be nice to them.”

  Rose twisted to view Miss Taylor, who held a basket of vegetables from the garden.

  “This plant does not deserve niceness. See how it has taken over half of the bed.”

  “Well, you had better teach it a lesson, I suppose.” Miss Taylor peered up at the clouds that prevented the sun from escaping. “You watch you do not get wet. You’re lucky you did not catch a cold after the ball.”

  She glanced up. When they had returned from the ball, with Rose in quite a state, the three women had fussed terribly over her. It was not that she did not appreciate their care but, goodness, she was hardly some wilting flower. Ever since, they had been a little more protective of her.

  “It will stay dry,” Rose said, confidently.

  “As long as you do not go chasing anymore dogs. We have had our fill of them.”

  “Rupert went with Hamish to Edinburgh.”

  Miss Taylor smiled, and Rose suspected she caught the wistfulness in her tone.

  “They will be back before long, and I’ve no doubt he will have little desire to leave Baleith again. Not when he enjoys it so much here.”

  Heat touched her cheeks at the housekeeper’s knowing look. She had not said a word of Hamish’s promises. How could she? He had to speak with Aunt May first. But the women knew her so well, it was hard to hide her appreciation of him.

  Miss Taylor frowned. “Did I hear the bell? I’ll be but a moment.”

  Rose turned her attention back to the plant. The wild stems wound about many of the other plants, and she propped her hands on her hips while she decided where exactly to start. She heard the front door shut but there were no voices. They never had visitors so it was likely some post or a delivery.

 

‹ Prev