The Lass Who Lost a Shoe (Highlander Ever After Book 1)

by Caroline Lee

  Max’s mother hadn’t had the opportunity. If the Americans hadn’t fought bloody battles, and won, Max might still be living that reality.

  No matter how bad she once thought she’d had it, she was lucky it was never as bad as that. Thank the good Lord he—and so many others—were free of that now.

  He cleared his throat and scrubbed a hand over his face. “So you see, Ember,” he asked, as he met her eyes once more, “every time you told me I was somehow better than you, just because of my position, I knew you were wrong.”

  “Wrong?” Hands still wrapped tightly together, she thrust herself to her feet. “The situation of yer birth has nothing to do with who ye really are! Ye’re no’ a slave.”

  He blew out a breath and rolled his shoulders once, then twice. “I know I’m not,” he agreed quietly. Before she could jump on that admission, he shook out his hands and turned away from her. “After the war, after my father had lost everything, he took me and Roy, Jr. and moved out west. He had enough money to start again, and he built himself up a cattle empire from nothing.” Shaking his head, he began to pace in front of the lathe again. “He was determined to be respected, and since Wyoming was settled by all sorts of people—Yankee and Confederate alike, as well as Mexicans and Negros and immigrants from all over—he decided to keep his mouth shut about the situation of my birth.” She could hear the bitterness in his voice. “Most people assume me and Roy, Jr. have different mothers, but we’ve all kept the dirty little secret.”

  “Yer father, ye’ve mentioned him before, doesn’t sound like a nice man.”

  His laughter wasn’t a kind sound. “He’s not. I told you about the horse ranch I ran with my friend back home, but even that wasn’t far enough away from him. I was glad to have the opportunity to come to the Highlands and make my own life.”

  Which reminded her…

  She took a tentative step toward him. “Ye’ve built a life here. Yer house will be done soon.”

  He turned, and his profile caught the light from the gas lamp. “It’s done now,” he said in a hollow voice. “That’s why I left the inn. But…” He glanced away again. “It’s not what I was hoping it would be.”

  “Why no’?” she whispered, taking another step toward him, her arms aching to hold him again. Not because of how he made her feel, but in order to make him feel better. Safer. Loved.

  Without looking at her, Max confessed in a quiet voice, “Because you’re not there, Ember. Everywhere I look in that house, I think of you and how much I’d like to have you there with me. I know the way I feel for you; I know it’s fast. I know it almost feels like—magic. But it’s still true.”

  And for one perfect, shining moment, the world ceased to move. Ember stopped breathing, her pulse quieted in her ears, and she felt herself smile.

  Then she exhaled and the world started to turn again, but slower. More softly, somehow.

  “Are ye saying ye want a future with me, Max?”

  He took his time turning around, and he was entirely too far away. His expression was almost hesitant when he nodded jerkily. “I wanted you to know, first, about my past. So when you think I’m some kind of high-and-mighty…lord or something, you’ll remember who I really am.”

  By his side, his hands curled into fists, but she wasn’t certain if it was because he was controlling a strong emotion or resisting the urge to reach for her.

  “Oh, Max,” she breathed, stepping close enough to him she had to tilt her head back to stare into his eyes. “Who ye really are is Max DeVille, a hard-working manager of my ancestral business. I was so angry—no’ at ye, but at myself—for no’ realizing who ye were, and I was embarrassed too.”

  “No,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t feel embarrassed. I never told you my name, or my position, and when you made assumptions, I should’ve guessed what you meant.”

  “Ye ken what they say about assumptions?” She cocked her head to one side. “They make asses out of umptions.”

  “That doesn’t make sense, Ember.”

  She shrugged. “We Highlanders are a mysterious breed.”

  Chuckling, he reached for her hands. “Can you forgive me for not telling you who I was?”

  “Can ye forgive me for being so angry, when it wasn’t yer fault at all?”

  Pursing his lips, he pretended to think about it. “I suppose so. But will you please stop telling me you’re just a serving lass? After all, you’re soon to be a patent holder, and assuming—although that would make an ass out of uming, by your logic—you’re still willing to work with Oliphant Engraving, you’ll soon be part of a very lucrative new line of products.”

  Her smile grew in excitement, a future of possibilities stretching out in front of her. “Only if ye stop telling me ye’re just a cowboy. Ye ran a successful horse ranch, and now ye run a verra successful engraving industry.”

  He let go of her hands and ran his up along her forearms, holding her upper arms as if to ensure she was listening. “Yes, but I was born a slave.”

  “Aye, and I became a drudge,” she snapped, shaking her head. “Neither of us are to blame for our pasts, and we’re working toward making ourselves better people for—” She cut herself off with a gasp. “Unless ye think I am the sort of woman to hold yer blood, yer heritage against ye?”

  He chuckled, then used his hold on her arms to pull her closer. “If you were the kind of woman to do that, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.”

  It was the sincerity in his tone which caused her to sigh in pleasure, but when his lips claimed hers, she sighed again. This kiss was softer, sweeter, and full of promise.

  “Ember,” he began, after he’d tucked her head under his chin and wrapped her in his arms, “you’ve worked so hard for other people: your stepmother, who doesn’t appreciate it, and your stepsisters.”

  “My sisters at least appreciate me.” When he hummed diplomatically, she knew he was thinking of Vanessa. “The Oliphant Inn would likely collapse without me.”

  “But that’s not your problem, love. That’s your stepmother’s problem. She can hire more servants to do what you were doing for free. You deserve the chance to chase your own dreams, to work hard for something you desire. Like making sure all the finest ladies in Scotland are wearing Oliphant engraved shoes next season.”

  She smiled against his shoulder, her arms tightening around him. “That’s no’ my only dream.”

  “Dare I hope it has something to do with me?”

  “Aye, perhaps.”

  When he took a deep breath, she felt his chest expand against her. “Ember, I want to make your dreams come true. I want to give you the freedom to work toward your own goals, for your own happiness. It took a bloody war—I mean that literally, not the way you Scots use the word bloody—to give me that freedom, and now I want to give it to you.”

  “Why, Mr. DeVille”—she pulled back so she could look into his eyes—“are ye offering me another job?”

  “Yes. But I’ve already hired a housekeeper. Mrs. Oliphant.”

  “Of course.” She nodded.

  “I plan on paying her handsomely, so you don’t have to do anything around our home you don’t want to do.”

  Our home. She liked the sound of that. “So what job are ye offering?”

  His lips slowly tugged upward. “Well, it’s less of a job and more of a position.”

  Her heart began to speed up again. “What—what kind of position?” she asked, imagining all sorts of naughty positions the two of them could get into.

  “Marry me, Ember,” he whispered. “Please?”

  “Can I wear my fancy white dress again?”

  His eyes searched hers. “I’ll even return your beautiful red shoe to wear down the aisle. But then I’m taking it back.”

  “What for?”

  “To remind me appearances don’t mean everything. I danced with a beautiful, intriguing lady who wore that shoe, but it was the shoe’s creator I fell in love with.”


  Ember melted against him with a sigh. “I suppose I ought to tell ye that I love ye.”

  “That would be nice, yes.”

  “I love ye, Max.”

  When he smiled, she matched it.

  “So does that mean you’ll marry me? Help me run Oliphant Engraving, which your father did before me? Create a new fashion trend? Make my house a home?”

  How could she say no? “I think all of those dreams sound just lovely.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  Her grin grew. “Nay, Max. This is the Highlands. That was an aye.”

  He was laughing when his lips claimed hers once more.

  Epilogue

  “Wait! Wait, dearies, let me run ahead and get the door for ye!”

  Mrs. Oliphant, their new housekeeper, pushed past them and scuttled for the front door of the house.

  Our new home.

  Grinning, Max turned and offered his hand to Ember. “Coming, wife?”

  One slim leg emerged from the carriage, the cut of that lovely white gown showing off not just the revolutionary red shoes, but the trim, stocking clad ankle as well. It was a bold sort of dress to wear to a wedding, but Max loved it.

  In fact, when Ember reached down to take his hand, he changed his mind about allowing her to walk into their home on her own. Instead, he stepped closer, and disregarding his fancy suit, swept her into his arms.

  Ember squealed and threw her arms around his neck, but the sound quickly turned to laughter. “What are ye doing, Max?”

  He turned and hurried toward the front door. “I’m carrying my wife across the threshold. Then I’m carrying her up the stairs and into our bedroom, where I’m going to very carefully remove this lovely dress from her.”

  She’d stopped laughing. “Oh?” she squeaked, and he shot her a wicked grin.

  “Indeed. It’s a beautiful gown, full of sentimental value, and I don’t want it to be crushed.” Her lovely eyes had gone wide at the hint of what was to come, but from the way she squirmed in his arms, she wasn’t afraid. “I suppose I should be glad you decided not to wear the mask to our wedding,” he teased, stopping at the front door.

  “I couldnae verra well announce I was the mysterious lady at the ball, could I? My stepmother was glowering the whole time anyhow. I think she suspects.”

  He dropped a kiss to her nose. “It doesn’t matter, love. After today, nothing your stepmother does should matter to you at all. She’s part of your past.”

  When she sighed slightly and rested her head against his shoulder, he nodded firmly and stepped over the threshold. He hadn’t expected a fanfare, but Mrs. Oliphant gave a little muted cheer.

  “Verra good, sir! I’ve left a cold supper for ye in the kitchen, if ye’re feeling peckish later.” She winked. “Takes a lot of energy, a wedding night does.”

  Good Lord, she wasn’t planning on staying, was she?

  Max cleared his throat. “Very good, Mrs. Oliphant. Thank you.” Carrying Ember, he edged around her. “You’re free to go now.”

  “Och, I ken a hint when I hear one. I wasnae planning on watching! No’ from here anyway,” she muttered the last part.

  Max stopped. “What?”

  “Nothing!” The godmother-turned-housekeeper bobbed a cheeky curtsey. “Just heading to Evangeline’s house to—to check on things.”

  Ember lifted her head at that, but Max just nodded curtly, satisfied now that he and his new wife would be alone. “Lock the door on your way out, please, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Have fun!” she hollered after them, as he took the stairs two at a time, anxious to get Ember to their room.

  Once there, he kicked the door shut behind him and lowered her gently to the floor. Her arms were still around his neck, so he kissed her. It was difficult to hold back the intensity of his desire, but he also didn’t want to rush things with her. There’d been a few moments, since she’d accepted his proposal, when things had gotten hot enough between them he’d had trouble controlling his reaction to her.

  But tonight, everything would be perfect.

  Gently, he kissed her one last time, then straightened. She was staring up at him, her eyes clouded.

  “Max?” she whispered, and he grinned at how dazed she sounded.

  “Yes, love?”

  “I…” She blinked. “I want to see Vanessa and Bonnie.”

  He started. “What? Now?”

  Her gaze cleared, and her lips slowly curled upward. “Nay, I’m sorry. I’m verra happy to be here alone with ye right now.” As if to prove it, she tilted her pelvis forward, her warmth cradling his already-aching erection. “But after what ye said about the baroness downstairs, I wanted ye to ken that.”

  He was struggling to follow along, with the delightful distraction of her so warm and willing in his arms. “Um…ken—I mean, know—what?”

  Still smiling, she slipped away from him, reaching up and over her shoulders to unbutton her gown. Max’s mind went blank.

  “I just wanted ye to ken that I’m no’ putting my sisters behind me. I’ll happily never speak to Machara again, but Vanessa and Bonnie are still my sisters. I want them to be happy.”

  Struggling to focus on what she was saying, Max forced his attention away from the bare skin that was emerging, inch by inch. “Uh…alright. Yeah, sure.” Personally, he wasn’t certain Vanessa—who was not just vain but had said such cruel things about Roland’s brother—deserved happiness. But at that moment, he wasn’t going to start an argument with his wife. “Whatever will make ye happy, my love.”

  Abruptly, Ember turned her back to him. “It would make me happy, husband, if ye’d finish with these buttons. I need this gown off me.”

  Max’s mouth went dry.

  As he stepped up to her, she reached for the pins holding her glorious red curls in place. She hadn’t worn a cap today, and although he knew she’d have to pin her hair up when she worked at Oliphant Engraving, he vowed to ask her to wear it down when she was at home.

  His fingers felt overly large as he fumbled with the tiny buttons, but he was rewarded as each victory revealed more of her.

  She hummed quietly and tilted her head to one side so her hair could cascade over her shoulder. The motion brought her neck tantalizingly close to his lips.

  “I ken ye said ye were worried about this gown, Max,” she murmured, “but I suspect an hour or two on this clean rug willnae harm it.”

  It was as clear a blessing as he was going to get. When the last button popped free, the sudden surge of joy wrenched a little cry of victory from his lips, and he pushed the gown over her shoulders and down her arms.

  Before it could pool around her legs, he’d stepped forward, pressing himself against her back, so her luscious rear end cradled his hardness. As his lips dropped to a bare spot on her neck, she moaned and dropped her head to one side, giving him better access, and his hands found her corset hooks.

  In a moment, that too joined the gown on the floor, and when he cupped her breasts through the thin cotton of her chemise, they both groaned in pleasure.

  “Max!” she gasped, pressing herself backward against him, her arms reaching over her shoulders to twine her fingers in his hair, “I need ye!”

  “And I need you too, wife.” In one quick movement, he’d spun her around, and although he gasped in surprise, she didn’t hesitate to reach for the pin holding his ascot in place. The thought of her undressing him made him even more desperate to have her.

  As she pulled his jacket off his shoulders, he lowered his lips to her skin once again. Her little mewling sounds had his cock pulsing against his trousers.

  “Ember, are you sure you’re ready for me?” he gasped.

  To his surprise, she pulled away, but only just far enough to meet his gaze. Then she took his cheeks in her palms and smiled softly.

  “Max DeVille, I married ye because ye’re a good man, and ye’re making all my dreams come true. Our pasts dinnae matter.”

  He managed to nod, despi
te her hold on him. “Our pasts don’t matter. I’m not a prince, or a cowboy. You’re not a lady, nor a drudge. Only our future matters, and we’re going to work together to make it a happy one.”

  Her smile grew until it was near blinding. “I love ye, Max.”

  “I love you too, Ember.”

  “Excellent.” She pulled him closer, and his arms instinctively went around her waist, pulling her flush against him and his readiness. “Then kiss me, husband. I’m ready to be yers. Forever.”

  Forever.

  “What! That’s it? Why’d it go all black like that?” Broca slapped the crystal ball. “It just…faded to black? Is it broken?”

  Willa sighed. “We were just getting to the good part!”

  Evangeline snorted softly and nudged the seeing device toward Seonag’s carpetbag. “I turned it off.”

  “Ye turned it off?”

  “Whazzin fr’at?”

  “Oh, Evangeline, really?”

  The leader of their chapter sniffed. “Because they’re newly married and deserve some privacy!” Not that spying on old married couples in bed would be any better. “And watching them consummate their vows is not necessary to a godmother’s job.”

  “Nay, but it’d be fun.”

  Grisel burst in. “What did I miss? What did I miss?”

  “Nothing more than the rest of us,” grumbled Broca. “Evangeline turned off the crystal ball just as ‘twas getting to the good part.”

  “Aww!” Grisel plopped down into the open chair. “Did she give ye the lecture about privacy?”

  “She said it wasnae necessary to a godmother’s job.”

  Grisel winked at Broca, then turned and did the same to Evangeline. “Nay, but it’d be fun.”

  Evangeline glared. “Look, you degenerates, if you want to use the crystal ball to spy on couples in flagrante delicto, then you can do it on your own time. And do not tell me about it—it’s a blatant disregard to the godmother’s code!”