Chapter Thirteen
Angus was standing in front of her, watching her hungrily. His eyes were roving over her body, and she could feel her body respond to his look. The heat of desire consumed her, and she took a step towards him. All she knew was that she wanted to feel her hands on the bare skin of his chest, and she moved forward, her hands lifted up.
They were in the Great Hall again, and a fire was roaring in the hearth. Shadows danced across the walls, and she could smell the delicious scent of food, and then when she got close enough to him, she could smell the aroma of him.
Finally, she stood before him and slid her hands over him and began to pull at his linen shirt. Grinning, he followed the instructions of her hand and pulled it over his head. Charlotte gasped as she took him in, the half-naked form of his godlike body. He stepped forward and wrapped his large hands around her waist. She melted into him as he placed soft kisses along the line of her neck. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, the pleasure all-consuming. When he returned his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “I want ye, lass.”
Charlotte could feel her heart thumping wildly in her chest, and she moved her hands around the skin of his back. So muscled, taut, and smooth. She wanted to explore every inch of him. His body felt just as she expected, and it only increased her desire for more. More of him. This man was here, in front of her, heating her blood.
When he moved to her face, he took her mouth in a kiss that sent shivers through every vessel, and she felt it all center and pool in her core. His lips were savoring and caressing as if they could not get enough of her. She wanted him too. More than anything. She could not believe that it was actually happening. When he pulled away from his kiss, she got lost in his deep, brown eyes. “Come. I want more of you,” he whispered, his voice husky with need as he laid his forehead on hers.
Charlotte felt her hands begin to sweat, and her whole body tingled. He took her hand, and they walked through the castle slowly, tantalizingly slowly, until they reached his room. She felt like she was floating at the thought of his strong hands touching her, covering every inch of her. He turned around at the door and said, “I want to see all of ye.” His eyes indicated just what as he looked her up and down again. It made her ache with desire for him and only him.
Charlotte nodded, desperate to see all of him as well, all anger and frustration forgotten. He pushed open the door, and she followed him inside, her eyes not leaving him. As he shut the door behind them, he trapped her with his arms on either side of her, her back to the door. He took her mouth again, but this time there was no slowness, no gentleness, only a drive to taste and savor.
Charlotte felt all her muscles turn to butter as she leaned forward, fitting her form against his hard body. When her breasts touched his chest, he growled in his throat, and pulled her tighter to him, and began to pull at the edges of her gown.
Her body screamed yes as he was able to pull down her gown enough to expose her shoulders. His mouth followed the path of skin, and she began to moan at the beautiful way his lips sent fire from her head to her toes. He kept pulling, and to her surprise, her breasts were smoothly freed from their trap, and with another growl, Angus made his way there. Holding one, the other he placed his mouth over her nipple.
Charlotte leaned back, breathing heavily. The pleasure was too much to bear. And then she heard him. Between lavishing his tongue on the skin of her breasts, he whispered, “Lass, ye are already perfection itself.” Perfection.
Charlotte’s head sank bank, and she felt herself lifting out, up and away. Perfection. The word repeated over and over in her mind until the image of him disappeared, and she sat up in bed, bursting out of her dream. “Perfection,” she whispered, her eyes still closed.
She was breathing heavily, and she could feel a sheen of sweat on her forehead, between her breasts, and moisture between her legs. She laid back and groaned.
It was the same dream every night, dreams of his arms, his skin, his mouth on hers, and everywhere else. And then she would wake up. She was hoping the day would come when she could wake up smoothly and easily without thoughts of a certain wild Scotsman, but it didn’t seem yet possible. This time the dream was different. She had heard the words she so desperately needed to hear from his lips again. He wanted her, and he thought she was perfect.
But it was all fake. She would not hear that again. To her comfort, she had other things to occupy her today. She thought instantly of the vegetables that were to be sent. At dinner the previous day, her father had told her of his success in finding quite a few bundles, and Charlotte had handed over her note excitedly, which he signed with a flourish. She also handed him an envelope containing a written letter for Mrs. MacLean at long last.
She and her father had engaged in lively conversation throughout dinner. They had tried to get their guests to participate, but they were generally silent and taciturn, and Elizabeth often tried to read from her book. Charlotte was shocked at the behavior. This was the King’s man who they so desperately wanted to send to Fort William to assist against war? He had seemed cold and menacing at first, but after she had spent a few hours in his company, he did not seem to care one whit about his duties at the Fort, and so the fear that had built in her stomach was slowly dissipating. She had tried to befriend Elizabeth but to little avail.
Once she was dressed, she rushed to her father’s study to discuss the vegetables with him. She wanted to make sure the delivery was sent as soon as possible across the Sound. Ever since the large rainstorm that had racked the Isle and sent her clanging to the ground, the weather had been beautiful and serene as if warning them of spring’s quick approach. She knew that on the isle, they would be starting to plant soon. Perhaps one day, she could send seeds for them to add these new foods to their field list. Her father had acquired potatoes, apples, carrots, and cabbages, and she was so grateful to him for his efforts.
She arrived in his study hastily, her hair threatening to come undone, and her face reddened with excitement and movement. “Father! Oh, I am sorry to intrude.” She saw that Lord Darling was leaning over her father as he scribbled upon the desk, mouthing the words to him as he wrote.
At Charlotte’s hurried entry, Lord Darling straightened slowly, eyeing her once again in his haughty manner. Charlotte would have felt that his behavior was rather rude, except that she was the one who had bounded in on her father’s study, knowing that he had a guest staying with him. Lord Darling nodded tersely, almost imperceptibly, and Charlotte bent into a quick curtsy.
Her Father turned towards her and smiled weakly. She said, “Oh, I am very sorry. Do forgive me. I nearly forgot that we had a guest.” Lord Darling raised an eyebrow slightly at her comment.
General Andrews replied, “’Tis no matter, my dear. Lord Darling has a daughter of his own.” The lord made an expression that Charlotte supposed was an attempt at a smile, but it didn’t quite work.
“What is it that you wish, Charlotte?” Her father said again.
Charlotte moved her eyes away from the cold gaze of Lord Darling and said, “Oh, yes, Father. I was wondering if the vegetable bundles were sent already. I would like to send them out as soon as possible.”
Her father opened his mouth to speak, but he was quickly interrupted by the silvery smooth yet menacing voice of Lord Darling. “Yes, Miss Andrews, your father has sent the delivery already with that young Scottish boy acting as the transporter. But, I’m afraid I have advised your father to consult me on such matters in the future. I feel that we cannot do such…charitable acts in the future towards the people we are trying to control.”
Charlotte was shocked into silence for a moment. She glanced between her father and Lord Darling, and she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Trying to control?
She found her words at last. “I’m sorry, but despite politics, do we not have a duty to those under the jurisdiction of the Fort? While I was on the Isle, many of the members of the village were ill, and I could not find a solution. But, I hope that fres
h fruits and vegetables will help give them the strength they so desperately need so that they can return to work. Remember, these people are paying taxes to the Crown, and my father and I wished to thank them for hosting me.”
A tiny muscle flexed in one side of Lord Darling’s cheek. Her father looked down. Lord Darling spoke again, “My dear Miss Andrews, are you saying that you actually went to visit the ill villagers on your own? Why would a lady of your status do such a thing?”
His expression was intended to make it seem as though his concern was real, but in his voice, Charlotte could tell that he was sending warnings like daggers towards her with each word. Charlotte could feel her anger beginning to grow within her belly, but she did not want to embarrass her father in front of his superior. “I was doing my duty as interim Lady MacLean. My cousin and her husband left for London and left us to do our duties in their stead.”
“Us? You were not alone in Duart Castle?”
This man was relentless! And impertinent. He had also done his research, citing the name of the castle. She wondered for a moment what else he might know, and it made her feel a slithering fear. “There were servants, of course, and the interim laird is the absent laird’s younger brother, Angus.”
Charlotte had rather hoped that the new day would not bring thoughts of Angus back to her, but here she was, speaking his name aloud, and she had not yet had breakfast.
Lord Darling looked as though he was thinking deeply about something. “I see. Well, then ‘tis a good thing you returned from the Isle when you did. It would not be very seemly for a gentleman’s daughter, and a General’s daughter at that, to be living alone with a man in a castle, would it, Sir?” Lord Darling looked down at General Andrews.
General Andrews nodded and said, “Yes, my dear, I am most happy to have you back with me. That way, I can keep an eye on you.”
Charlotte was about to protest when Lord Darling continued. “Yes, young women ought to be guided towards their ultimate destinations. A good father cannot have his daughter wandering about doing Lord knows what on an island without supervision.”
Charlotte wanted to wring the man’s neck. Who was he to begin to tell both her and her father what to do? She wished she could appeal to her father’s good sense. He was the general of this fort! But she knew that her father did not have it in him. She could see it in his every movement. He was subdued, quiet, and in the space of only one night, Lord Darling had gotten his claws into him.
Charlotte wished that she could tell Lord Darling what she thought of his daughter’s behavior at the dinner table, attempting to read a book when guests were present, but she held her tongue. “Well, then I returned just at the appropriate time.” She forced a smile, hoping she could trick Lord Darling into thinking she was a well-behaved young woman.
He smiled back in the same awkward way. “Oh, and Miss Andrews, as for your earlier statement. You do not need to worry your head about how I should feel about my duties as assistant to your father. I know who pays taxes to the Crown, and I know what is best. We will not send any more gifts to the island at this time. And we will begin to prepare for the war that will eventually come. I know these Scottish brutes, and they think only with swords and strength, and not with whatever brains they have left. We must protect ourselves and keep things in order for His Majesty.”
Charlotte nodded tightly, her fists clenching slowly behind her back. She turned to leave the room, feeling the bile rise in her throat, but Lord Darling stopped her. “Miss Andrews, you must have many other pleasant things to put your mind to. Your upcoming marriage, in fact. I will be assisting your father in helping him find a proper match.”
* * *
Angus had been out the previous day, riding through the island to try to refocus his mind on his tasks ahead. He’d spoken to the tenants with the largest farms. They were ready to plant and would be doing so in a few days, but their barns and homes were a little worse for wear. He evaluated their needs, making notes in a small booklet, and he left them, noting that he would need to send men over the next day to make purchases for a few more supplies. He could send Liam. As for grazing land, he spoke to those tenants with their newly regained cows and sheep and let them know which areas would be open for grazing as soon as they wished it. Most of the animals had been cooped up all winter long in Lady MacLean’s stables in the castle, and the ground was too hard for grazing.
But now, with the beautiful March sun on his face and the wind whipping through the trees and grasses, it was ready. Clan MacLean was ready to come out of its years-long hibernation and show the Campbells that they had strengthened and would be thriving once more.
But this morning, he had slept late, feeling the fatigue of his long ride, and he drank hot tea in the Great Hall alone. His head ached, so he felt justified in having a bit more sleep. Liam and a few other men were sent across the Sound to hunt, as well as buy the products needed for rebuilding.
Despite being the only inhabitant of the upper rooms of the castle, each mealtime, Mrs. MacLean would still lay food for him, and he would eat in silence, staring into the flames, trying his best to put his mind on the most important things ahead. He had received word from Calum, but it was a short and terse message.
Brother,
London is bigger than I’d ever expected. The trial still goes on, and we do not yet know how long we will be here. Send me any word on the clan that you can. The Campbells will arrive soon. Lean on Charlotte for any assistance.
Calum
It had done nothing to bolster Angus’ courage as he tried to take care of things, and it had only made him more regretful of his actions towards Charlotte that made her want to leave before her time. He would have to let Calum know that she was gone at her father’s wish, but he would most certainly not tell him of any of the emotions that were raging in his heart every day.
Silence was now his worst enemy, and mealtimes were the only times that he was really alone if he could help it. There was no one else to accompany him, and he thought perhaps he should begin to eat on the road, carrying food with him as he traversed the Isle each day. ‘Lean on Charlotte for any assistance.’ His brother’s words kept hanging in his mind, repeating themselves mercilessly over and over. He had done the exact opposite of leaning on her. Instead, he had kept her at a sort of distance and continued pushing her away until those times that he could no longer withstand the desire for her that only grew with each moment they had spent together.
To his embarrassment, he had spent many an evening since she’d left helping himself to pleasurable release with her in his thoughts, but it was the only way he could help assuage the desire that only built further.
He was deep in thought, his head beginning to pound even more with all the thoughts raging within when Mrs. MacLean entered the room with excitement. “Sir! Angus!” She was waving two notes in her hand. “A load of vegetables has just arrived from the Fort! Young Seamus is down there helping the men tae unload it, and I will send them to the horse carts. I have the note from her tae accompany the gift, and it appears she has written me a letter as well!”
Angus put his hand out to take up the note, and his eyes scanned over the short message. It was like they were hungry for word of Charlotte and any connection to her. But the note was quick, cold, and to the point, giving him a duty to distribute the food. What did he expect? An effusive letter of regret and sadness at her departure? A desire to return?
He scowled, angry at his own feelings, and turned to see Mrs. MacLean opening up her letter beside him. She screwed up her face, attempting to read. “Och, I will need my spectacles tae read this, and they are nae upon me. Would ye do me the service, Sir? With yer young eyes, we shall be able tae read the lady’s message quickly.” Mrs. MacLean nodded and smiled, holding the letter out to him.
Angus was taken aback. He didn’t realize that she’d needed reading glasses, and he felt uncomfortable with her request. “Are ye sure ye wish me tae read yer personal letter, Mrs. MacLean
? There may be things within that Mistress wishes me nae tae know of.” I must be learning lessons now, he thought to himself, after the letter debacle only last week.
Mrs. MacLean smiled kindly. “I’m certain she wouldnae mind. Besides, I am giving ye the permission, Angus. And I have a feeling this is nae out of the area of yer expertise.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at her insinuation. Angus glanced at her and then sighed. So she knew. Excellent. And here he was, living on his own with everyone in a complete understanding of his own shame.
He took the letter from her and unfolded it. As he read, he was surprised by the kind and gentle tone. Was this the real Charlotte Andrews? The one that had nearly ripped his head off at each of their encounters or most of them.
Dear Mrs. MacLean,
You must forgive me. I have been trying to write for the past week, but none of the ways I tried to apologize were coming out properly. So you will find a pile of crumpled paper ashes in my fireplace as I struggled to say what I wanted to say. I am so sorry that I had to rush off in such haste. You have done so much for me to make me feel comfortable during my stay with Julia, and I hate that I could not give you a proper goodbye.
Mending a Highland Heart: Healing him was more scandalous than she ever imagined… Page 11