by Evie North
He held her still. “Stay. I will be ready again in a moment.”
She laughed, and she sounded like the woman he had loved ten years ago. Happy in his arms, content to follow her own heart.
Dugald knew he wanted that woman back, and somehow this time he was going to keep her.
His father was seated in the great hall, a jug of ale in front of him. Dugald noticed he hadn’t poured himself any of it—no doubt Hamish was still recovering for his night out with Callum and Finlay. For a moment Dugald took in the man who was his father as if he was a stranger. He was tall and strong, as lean as he’d been when he was young, and although the years had drawn lines around his eyes and mouth, he was still handsome. Dugald had seen the women looking on many occasions, although his father had never, to his knowledge, responded.
“Mistress Stewart came to me today.” He didn’t waste any time getting to the point.
Hamish turned his head and stared. “She came to you?”
Surprised, Dugald noted the hard stare, the clenching of teeth before his father’s face resumed a more familiar expression.
“What did she want?”
“She wants to go to Auchiltie with you. She says she feels useful, and if you send her back to the duke then she will be miserable. I am to persuade you to grant her request.”
Hamish groaned. “I was hoping she would return to the duke without a fight.”
Dugald eyed him curiously. “Don’t you want her with you? I can understand it is more work for you, but she seems biddable enough.”
Hamish snorted a laugh. “Oh she is biddable, at least she pretends to be, but that isn’t the problem.”
“Then what is the problem?”
But his father just shook his head and poured himself a mug of ale. “I will give it some thought,” he said, and that was the end of the conversation.
It wasn’t until Dugald was on his way to bed that he met with Finlay on the stairs. His brother listened to him tell the story of his father’s complaint and Mistress Stewart’s request and gave a deep chuckle.
Finlay leaned closer, green eyes alight with laughter, his usually reserved face split with a grin. “Don’t you know?” he said. “Father is in lust with the girl. He is struggling between his need for her and his determination to keep his hands to himself.”
Dugald refused to believe it, but Finlay insisted it was true. “Our father is infatuated with the girl,” he declared. “And I suspect it’s the same for her. Callum says they’ll eventually give in, but I have my doubts. Father is an honourable man and he has given his word to protect her. He will probably lock himself in the dungeon rather than let loose his baser instincts.”
When he was alone Dugald thought it over. Was Finlay right? Mistress Stewart was very pretty, docile and sweet. She could wrap a man like his father around her little finger. No wonder Hamish didn’t want her to remain with him—he didn’t trust himself. And yet Mistress Stewart was doing her best to stay by Hamish’s side. Was it really because she wanted to help, as she had said? Or was she rather more devious than he thought her?
Chapter 8
ROSINA
She and Dugald had sated their lust twice today and it wasn’t enough. She knew now it would never be enough, and she was beginning to fear that when Dugald left she would be torn in two.
Rosina and her mother were making their way to the great hall to eat and Rosina was struggling to pay attention to her mother’s conversation. And she wasn’t hiding the source of her distraction very well at all.
“That boy has bewitched you again, Rosina. I see it in the way you look at him.”
“He’s hardly a boy.” Rosina spoke before thinking and knew she should have denied the accusation. She shot her mother an uneasy look.
“He was not good enough for the daughter of a Gordon.” Jeanette didn’t seem to have heard her. She was speaking quickly, as if she was eager to get the words out. “He was a landless youngest son with no prospects. You deserved something more. You did the right thing by renouncing him. If your father’s relatives had answered my letters I could have arranged a match for you that was fitting.”
“They didn’t answer your letters and now Dugald has a great many prospects,” Rosina retorted, her voice tight, her throat tighter.
Jeanette shrugged, but her expression was uneasy. “It was for the best. I was a mother and you were my daughter and I did what I thought was best.”
Rosina sighed. They had been over this before, and although she knew Jeanette had been acting to protect her, right now she was finding it hard to forgive.
“You knew I had no choice, Mother. If I hadn’t done as you told me you were going to reveal to the laird the truth about Ewen and Elspit. That they were meeting in secret. And if you had done that …” She stared hard at Jeanette Gordon. “You told me I had to break off with Dugald. You told me if I didn’t you would give up Elspit’s secret to her father, and he would have Ewen and his brothers hanged at worst, banished at best. We all knew he was only waiting for the excuse to rid himself of the Campbells.”
“It wasn’t my fault Tighe discovered about his daughter’s behaviour from someone else,” Jeanette said, her face tight, but her eyes were panicked.
Rosina hesitated in the doorway to the great hall. Mary was already there with some of her particular friends, one of whom Rosina noted was Ewen’s young squire, Robbie.
“I walked away from Dugald when you swore you would not tell. I did it to save him and his brothers, to save Elspit. And then barely a day later someone had whispered the secret in the laird’s ear. You always said it wasn’t you … you swore to me it wasn’t …”
Something in Jeanette’s face stilled her, and she knew. All her mother’s protestations, all her promises, all this time believing her. It was Jeanette who had destroyed Elspit’s life, and Rosina’s.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You made me renounce my husband and the hand fasting, and then you told the laird about his daughter anyway.”
Her mother avoided her eyes. “It was for your own good,” she admitted. “I knew you would have gone to him if he was still here. You would have begged him to take you back, and he would have done it. Everything I did would have been for nothing!”
Rosina knew it was true. She would have begged Dugald to take her back, she had been planning to slip away and find him and explain why she had betrayed him. But her mother had kept her too close, watching her every move, and then it was too late. Now the shock of betrayal made her feel sick, and yet she should have known. She had been a blind fool, too easily persuaded into doing something she had known was wrong. And yet part of her had believed what she was told, that Dugald was too young, that he didn’t love her, that he would leave … When all along she had adored him, and breaking off with him had destroyed all her hopes of happiness.
“He wasn’t good enough for you,” Jeanette hissed. “I knew you would find someone who had more to offer, who would rise you again to the heights you deserved. You are a Gordon, child!”
“Rise me up? Our family are no longer of any importance. We are done, finished, and there have been no offers for me,” Rosina said dully.
“That was because you bore a bastard child. That was his fault too. Why could you not have kept your legs closed, Rosina?”
Rosina gasped. She could see that her mother was relieved to have confessed her secret—perhaps the words had been burning a hole in her tongue all this time. Elspit and Ewen had suffered for ten years because of her mother’s betrayal. She looked at her now and didn’t know what to do with her. If she revealed the truth then Elspit might cast Jeanette out. Would Rosina have to go with her? And what of Mary?
Her mother clutched at her hand. “Don’t tell them,” she said, and her voice was almost a whine.
Rosina stared back at her, speechless, her mind twisting and turning. “I need to think,” she said. She went to walk away and then spun around, as if the angry words couldn’t be held in any longer. “How could you have done that
, mother? To Ewen and Elspit, and to me and Dugald? If you hadn’t told the laird then I would still be … He would still be …”
But she couldn’t finish. It was too painful to think that but for her mother’s ridiculous ambitions, and Rosina’s own failure to stand up to her, she and Dugald would still be together.
She pressed her palm against the door to Dugald’s chamber. She told herself that she was here because she had to tell him what had happened all those years ago. But it wasn’t entirely true. She was also here because since their meeting in the armoury she had been unable to think of anything but him.
It was as if he had pushed his way inside her head as well as her body, and now she was full of him.
He was an unstoppable force. Ten years ago she knew she had hurt him, wounded his pride, and he had left her. If she wanted to be free of him again, would she need to do the same? Could she even do such a thing? And then there was Mary … Dugald was her father and Rosina knew whatever fears she had for her own heart she must keep matters courteous with Dugald for their daughter’s sake.
When Dugald was done with her, she would have to pretend her heart was not broken all over again. He would return to the duke and take up his life, probably marry someone young and important and beautiful, like Mistress Stewart, and for the sake of her pride she must pretend it didn’t matter to her.
But for now, he was on the other side of that door, waiting for her. He wanted her, she couldn’t mistake that. And she wanted him.
Rosina pushed open the door.
The room was in darkness but she could see Dugald on the bed, he was so big it was difficult not to see him. She took a breath for courage and crept closer, and it was only then that she realised his eyes were open.
“Rosina,” he said, his voice deep and low, almost a growl. It sent shivers over her skin and curled low into her belly. He reached out his hand and she slid hers into it, fingers tangling. He tugged her gently and she crawled up onto the bed beside him, and he wrapped her in his arms.
His body was so warm, as if he had his own fire inside, and with a sigh she rested her cheek on his shoulder and stared into the shine of his eyes.
It was comfortable lying here. Her desire was still there, a low hum inside her, but for now it was muffled beneath her sense of wellbeing. Dugald made her feel at peace, and that was something she had not felt for a long time.
Her hands wandered down over the hair on his muscled chest, and that was when she realised he was naked, his big body all laid out for her perusal.
His fingers toyed with her hair, and then slid down over her shoulder and his hand closed over her breast through her nightgown. Immediately she felt the desire increase, her flesh heavy and her hard nipple stabbing his palm.
She still loved him. In her heart she had always been Dugald’s, and even if he had moved on and no longer loved her, she had to tell him the truth about that terrible meeting with the laird ten years ago. She had to ask his forgiveness.
“I have something to say,” she began, and already felt the relief of sharing her secret with him.
He lifted his head, hearing the quiet seriousness in her voice. “What is it?”
She told him. The words began slowly, uncertainly, with gaps while she gathered her thoughts, but as she went on they ran together and in her nervousness she forgot to take a breath.
“Breathe,” he said, and she felt his hand on her back, rubbing in small circles, soothing her. Once she finished she couldn’t look at him anymore because she wasn’t sure what she would see there. She expected anger and from the tension emanating from him she could tell he was angry, but he didn’t start yelling at her or blaming her.
“Rosina,” he said. “I know I was young and full of myself, but I loved you. What you did struck me to the heart. I left and never looked back because I couldn’t bear to.”
Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. “I have wondered over the years if you really knew your own mind. Whether I was just a passing fancy for you and that you would grow tired of me and abandon me for something new and shiny.”
“I did love you, Rosina.”
He did love her. Not that he loved her now. Rosina swallowed and nodded.
“I loved you too, Dugald. I was going to find you afterwards and explain. I had to pretend in front of the laird but I could not bear you to think … My mother kept me by her side, she watched me so closely that I had no chance to slip away and find you, and then before I had a chance, you were gone. It was too late.”
He stroked her cheek before leaning in to gently kissed her lips. “I was angry. Hurt. I decided I could do better.”
She nodded but now the tears were running freely down her cheeks. “I broke my vow to you, to be honest and true, and you broke yours to me, to stay with me until death.”
“Perhaps we need new vows,” he said quietly, as if to himself. “Seeing you again, Rosina … The past feels so strong. As if we never left it behind.”
Surprised she looked at him in the darkness. “Do you think we could try again?” she whispered, unable to help the throb of hope.
He hesitated. “I have a commitment to the duke. I have to return to him very soon.”
“Of course.” Her heart sank.
He seemed about to say more and then he stopped himself and kissed her instead. The heat inside her burned brighter. She told herself to enjoy this moment, to make the most of it. She needed to store up every touch, every word, so that she would never forget.
DUGALD
She was asleep. He caressed her warm skin, his thoughts miles away. Rosina’s confession had given him a lot to think about. He had been so angry after the laird had broken them apart; he’d thought it was Rosina herself who caused that to happen. Now he knew it wasn’t her.
Just now, when she confessed, he had heard the pain in her voice. The regret. Her vow had meant a great deal to her and her mother had made her break it. Dugald wished he had had the maturity of mind to realise she was being manipulated.
When he had left Castle Tighe he did not think he would see her again. He wasn’t Ewen; he had made no eternal vow to her. But now, holding her, making love to her. Dugald knew this wasn’t a short affair, or a brief rekindling of a past passion. He wanted to keep her.
He had a bright future in the duke’s household, he knew that, but in repayment for his grace’s favour he had to be obedient. He had to marry a woman the duke thought suitable. Dugald wanted to keep Rosina, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to do that in a way Rosina would allow.
So he lay in the darkness with the woman he loved in his arms and turned his sharp mind to a solution.
Chapter 9
ROSINA
Two months later, Duke of Arran’s Estate
The journey had been slow, the weather wet and the roads appalling. Rosina would rather have ridden a horse but there was Mary to consider, and Jeanette. Her mother hadn’t wanted to come with her, but Rosina wouldn’t leave her. Despite what she had done, Jeanette was still dependent on her daughter. Besides, Jeanette and Dugald had had a long conversation before he left Tighe, and although Rosina didn’t know exactly what was said—“He asked about your father”—her mother had been chastened ever since.
Rosina didn’t expect it to last forever.
“There is the castle!” Mary was pointing, jumping up and down in her seat.
The Duke’s estate was large and his home recently build, so no drafty stairways and corridors like Tighe.
“Arran has done well for himself,” Jeanette said, brightening.
The coach was drawing closer now, and as they passed through the gate Rosina could see green lawns and gardens either side of them. Dugald would be waiting for her; he had probably expected her to arrive a week ago, but the weather …
She found herself worrying whether he had changed his mind about them coming to stay with him. It was mainly because of Mary. Father and daughter had found a great many things in common before he left Tighe, and h
er heart had been gladdened by that. As for her own relationship with him, Rosina was less sure.
He seemed to have forgiven her for what she had said to him when their hand fasting was torn asunder. The truth had set them both free. But as for anything more than friendship and the sharing of a child …? She didn’t know what he felt for her. Until the morning he left they had been hot for each other, the fire in their blood seemingly unquenchable. But lust was not love, and she still expected to have her heart broken. Dugald was a man with a future, and he must marry well.
Rosina would have to pretend she did not care about him giving himself to another woman and she wasn’t sure she could do it.
There were servants waiting on the stairs as they drew up and Mary and Jeanette were soon bustled away to their rooms, but Rosina was taken to one side. Nervously she saw a grand man approaching her, bewigged, with lace ruffles on his sleeves and throat, and holding an ebony cane. Rosina was glad she was wearing the new rose red dress that Dugald had sent to her.
“Is it Mistress Gordon?” he demanded.
“Yes, Your Grace.” She curtseyed, wondering what he was going to say. Had Dugald changed his mind? Had the duke come to send her away?
“You are as beautiful as I was told,” he informed her. Before she could answer, he raised his voice. “Here she is, laddie!”
Startled, Rosina looked up, just in time to see Dugald come hurrying through the door toward her. His face was alight, and her heart was attempting to escape from her chest. I love you, I love you … The words threatened to burst out of her and she held them in with difficulty because he mustn’t know how much she cared.
“Rosina.” Dugald took her hand and bent over it, and then he was standing there, staring at her. Rosina looked into his eyes and saw ...
Love. Nothing but love. And then he smiled. “You’re here,” he said. “You’re home.”
And Rosina forgot about being careful, she forgot about protocol, about behaving in a manner befitting her station and his, forgot about the watching noble. She flung her arms around him and he swung her up so that her feet were a long way off the ground, and kissed her hard on the mouth.