“Mother, this is Gwen. Gwendolyn Malone,” Roderick called out, having apparently seen them, and Gwen found herself the object of quite a few stares.
Gwen nodded at the woman before finally finding her voice. “Lovely to meet you,” she said. “I have heard so much about you.”
“I imagine you have if you have spent any time with Roderick,” Jane said with a laugh. “My son loves to talk.”
“That he does,” Gwen said with a slight chuckle in return. The tension she had been carrying was broken by the woman’s words, which put her at ease, though it didn’t last long as she was aware of the questioning look Jane directed her way before she turned her gaze over to her son.
When neither of them offered any details regarding their relationship, Jane finally said in an easygoing manner, “Why do we not go inside? We will see you settled and you can have a bath and meal will be prepared for you.”
Gwen forced a smile toward the woman before turning her worried glance to Roderick, silently asking him what she should do. He nodded at her, as if to tell her all would be fine, but, Gwen knew, there was no way he could know that for sure.
* * *
The warm water was heavenly, particularly for a woman who spent most of her life bathing in rivers and cold lakes. The soap smelled of lemons, and Gwen ran it over her skin repeatedly, sudsing her hair and dunking her head under the surface to revel in such lavishness. She could get used to this, she thought, and smiled to herself, wondering if, perhaps, she would be able to.
Was Roderick right? A small tremor of hope rippled through her. Would his family still accept her, despite who she was and for all she had done? He had — eventually — so maybe it wasn’t a stretch to think they would as well.
A slight knock sounded at the door, and she called out, “Come in!” thinking it would be, perhaps, one of the women who worked in the castle with clean clothes for her. She gasped when Roderick slipped inside the door, softly closing it behind him.
He sent her a wicked grin and a wink. “I shouldn’t be here, I know, but the thought of you, in a bathtub, just a couple of rooms away from me…” He let his eyes skim over her, and she blushed. She should tell him to leave. He was right, he shouldn’t be here, but it was not for the reasons he was thinking of. He thought it was wrong because it wasn’t altogether proper. It was, after all, the middle of the day in his family’s home, and there were people everywhere. But no, it wasn’t that. It was the fact that the closer they became, the more at risk she was to losing her heart to him, leaving her completely open and vulnerable, a situation in which she never, ever wanted to find herself. For then she would rely on him, would be depending upon him to make the decision to stay with her, to be with her, and that would never do. A man’s intentions could all too easily change, and she was not willing to live with such a risk.
But, oh, he was hard to resist, standing there with his own hair still wet, dark, long, and dripping down his shoulders, having just finished his own bath — or perhaps a swim in the lake, she wasn’t sure. He wore but a kilt around his hips, his shirt in his hand. She watched the water drip from the ends of his hair, down his defined, muscular chest and abdomen, and she had an inkling that he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
He held in his other hand a dress of emerald green, and walked over and draped it over the bed. “Peggy sent this for you, as she figures you’re of similar size. She had it set aside for one of the women to bring to you, but I thought I’d do so myself,” he said with another wink. “My mother is having your other clothes washed and will send them up when they’re ready.”
She nodded her thanks, her eyes watching him as he strode around the room. He finally came to a stop beside the tub, crouching beside her and dipping his fingers in the water.
“You’ve let the water grow cold, lass,” he said, his voice a husky whisper.
“Yes,” she said, swallowing hard. “It felt so lovely, I couldn’t bring myself to get out.”
“Allow me to help you,” he said, reaching in and gripping her under the shoulders and knees, powerfully lifting her out of the tub. She gasped as she brought her arms around his neck, holding on tightly while the water sloshed over the edges.
He lay her down on the bed, wrapping the plaid around her.
“Roderick!” she said, laughing. “You’re getting my plaid all wet.”
“Aye,” he said, a gleam coming into his eye. “That I am, lass. How do you feel after a couple of days of riding?”
“Fine,” she said with a shrug. “I’m rather used to it.”
“Turn over,” he said with a bit of a command, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “Please,” he added, and she willingly did so. “My mother sent up a salve, anyway. It’s to soothe the muscles and soften the skin. She thought the maid was going to bring it to you, but as I said, I may have intercepted her.”
“You’re a scoundrel,” she said, but couldn’t stop herself from laughing at him.
“Aye, lass,” he said as he started rubbing the salve into her shoulders, and she had to bury her head in the plaid beneath her to keep from moaning at the incredible feeling of his strong fingers kneading into her skin. “I am.”
* * *
They were in his parents’ home. He had hardly introduced her to his family. He had hardly spoken with any of them. And yet, Roderick found that his feet had led him to Gwen’s chamber, and once there, he couldn’t keep himself away. How fortunate it was that his father — or Finlay, he couldn’t be sure — had added locks to the doors. For as much as he enjoyed doing as he pleased, he didn’t feel like having to explain himself to anyone.
He hadn’t meant for this to happen now, but with Gwen here, below him, it was almost as if he didn’t have a choice.
Her skin underneath his fingertips was smooth, like the purest of silks. It was in such contrast to her muscles beneath them, which were as strong and as tight as any man’s, though much more tightly defined. She carried tension in her shoulders, he sensed, though she seemed to relax into his touch as he worked at them. He ran his fingers lower along her back, then she gasped as he began massaging her hamstrings, before continuing down to her calves. When he had smoothed the salve over nearly all her body, he leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Turn over.”
She complied, this time without any admonition, and he felt as if a feast had been lain before him when he stared at her lithe body stretched out on the bed. He followed his eyes with his fingers, reverently exploring her. She watched him without a word, and he could sense the desire building within her as much as it was in him, giving him an immense sense of power to know that he could make a woman such as her want him so. He could spend the rest of his days exploring her, he realized with a start, and his heart began to beat wildly at what such a thought insinuated.
She lifted a hand to his face, brushing it against his now-smooth cheek, as he had shaved away the stubble while in his own bath.
“You are beautiful,” she whispered, startling him so that he laughed, causing her to frown, her eyes narrowing at him. “That will be the last time I compliment you, then,” she said, to which he shook his head.
“A man doesn’t usually like to be called ‘beautiful,’ lass, although…” he angled his head and studied her as he contemplated, “coming from you, I would suppose it is a compliment.”
She nodded, a whisper of a smile curving her lips. Her fingers explored his face, his neck, his chest, just as he had done to her. Finally, they came to his rather rapidly growing erection, and when she stroked him, he nearly jumped off the bed.
He came back down, however, and pressed against her, leaning over and taking her lips with his. He nibbled at her, tasting her gently, exploring her mouth as he had her body. This was not the rushed, fiery passion of their time in the woods. No, this was a slow burn, the steady embers that were left smoldering after the initial blaze of the fire.
He stroked the velvety softness of her mouth with his tongue as his hands ran down her body,
finding her center, caressing her there with his fingers, making sure she was ready for him. He positioned himself at her entrance and was amazed at how easily, how naturally he slid into her. He heard her gasp at their joining, and her hips quickly came up to meet his in the back and forth rhythm that felt as if though they were always meant to be together like this.
Their gasps, groans, and breath intermingled as they steadily, naturally increased their pace. He felt the pressure growing within him, and he used all the control available within him to hold back until he felt her begin to vibrate around him, her body trembling as she found her release. He let himself go, coming with her, before he collapsed on top of her, completely spent.
As he rolled to the side, gathering her into him, a smile broke out across his face, although Gwen was turned so she couldn’t see it. Never in his life had he felt so complete and so utterly satisfied. He kissed the top of her head and wrapped a fistful of her long, beautiful hair around his hand, bringing it to his nose and inhaling the delicious scent of her. Somehow, she still smelled like the fresh, clean air of the forest, though now it was intermingled with the lemon of the soap she had used.
He could stay here forever, he realized, and thought maybe, just maybe, it could be so.
Chapter 16
Heat suffused Gwen’s face as she walked into the dining room. Don’t be ridiculous. They have no idea what you have just done upstairs with Roderick. And yet somehow, the gaze of some of his siblings and their wives — it was difficult to keep track of them all — told her that perhaps they suspected a bit of what had gone on, or at least the nature of their relationship. She avoided looking Roderick in the eye, which was easy as he was busy at the other end of the table, shoveling in food as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Which, she figured, was somewhat true as they had subsisted nearly entirely on a diet of oatcakes and berries for the past day or so.
“Come, sit,” Jane said, patting a chair next to her. “You must be hungry.”
“Thank you,” Gwen said, taken a bit aback at the generosity they were showing to her, “I am.”
A plate of raw cheese, bread, and smoked salmon was placed in front of her, and Gwen found she was soon rather rudely eating nearly as fast as Roderick. When she looked up, however, the family was not staring at her, as had been her concern, but instead was carrying on with their regular, everyday conversation as if nothing was amiss.
She saw Duncan eyeing her from his place at the head of the table, but primarily with curiosity and not an accusation. So they must not know who she was yet.
“Tell us more about yourself, Gwen,” said Kyla, and when Gwen looked up at her, she saw nothing but interest in her face.
She was just being polite, Gwen realized and managed a smile for the beautiful blonde woman. “I, ah…” she faltered, unsure of what to say. Roderick had told her he wanted them to know the truth and yet she couldn’t bring herself to tell them, not when she had so recently found this peace she had never known before, a place that could feel like home — the home she had always longed for.
“Gwen is originally from Scotland,” Roderick said, filling in the silence, and for once, she was grateful for his gift of always finding the necessary words.
“I am,” she said with a nod. Stick to the facts, Gwen. “I was born twenty-four years ago. I have, as far as I am aware, six brothers and sisters, though I haven’t seen them in many years and there could have been more born after I left.”
“Oh?” Peggy asked, a look of consternation coming over her face. “Why have you not seen them for such a time? I can hardly imagine not seeing my brothers for so long. Though Callum is now far from us, it seems we still manage to keep in touch, and they visit when they can.”
Gwen flushed a little, not knowing how to tell them that she had met this brother without including the circumstances of their meeting.
“Ah, yes, well, my family was not altogether fortunate. My parents couldn’t afford to feed all of us, living as we were, and yet they also couldn’t afford to leave, so they sent my brother and me to… to have a better life.”
She forced herself to smile as she tried to change the story to one that was more positive, though she saw Roderick’s frown, for he knew the true events that had led to her crossing the ocean.
“At least you had your brother,” Peggy said in earnest.
“He died,” Gwen said softly, not wanting their pity and yet not wanting to lie anymore either. They were all silent for a moment at her words.
“Have you seen your family since you have arrived back in Scotland?” asked the small, brown-haired woman, who must be Adam’s wife, Rachel, judging by her English accent.
Her words caught Gwen off guard, although it was a rather natural question. Yet she wasn’t entirely sure of where her family lived now, and even if she could find them, if she even wanted to, they would likely only be ashamed of her and what she had made of her life.
“No,” she answered simply, “I have not.”
Silence settled over the room, which Roderick soon filled.
“Gwen’s… adoptive father was quite ill and wished to return to his homeland,” he explained. “I came to know them in the Territories and offered to help them return to Scotland. He passed in his own village before we continued our travels here.”
Gwen gave him a small smile, grateful that he hadn’t told her entire story — at least not yet. She knew he said they would be understanding, but she would rather they had the opportunity to get to know her slightly better before they judged her too harshly.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, dear,” Jane said, offering Gwen a sympathetic smile that tugged on her heart. “That must have been difficult.”
“He was an… interesting man,” Gwen said with a bit of a shrug. “I was just glad that we were able to bring him home to fulfill his final wish before he died.”
“What are you going to do now?” Peggy asked from the other end of the table, and Gwen paused a moment to mask the anxiety in her stomach before she looked up at her. “I’m not yet sure,” she answered. “At the moment, I think I may go to one of the cities and find work there.”
“Work? What would you do for work?” Peggy demanded.
Gwen struggled to respond but was quickly rescued by Jane.
“That’s enough for now, Peggy,” she said gently. “I think we have harassed Gwen quite enough for one meal. You can continue your inquisition another time.”
Gwen smiled at both of them, realizing she should have done a better job in preparing a cover story. She was slipping, and yet at the same time she also would prefer not to lie to these people, who seemed to value honesty among one another.
She spent the rest of the meal in silence, listening to the family talk and laugh with one another. She smiled when appropriate, but she knew it didn’t quite reach her eyes. For as much as she appreciated being welcomed, she couldn’t let herself be taken in by this family any more than she could allow herself to want more with Roderick. For any joy, any pleasure she felt with them would be fleeting, and when it was gone, it would be replaced by the hard emptiness she had always known.
Once the meal was over, she thanked them, explained she was exhausted from their travels, and went upstairs to her chamber.
* * *
Roderick could hardly keep the grin from his face as he looked around the room at his family, sitting where they always did, in their places upon the comfortable furniture. He eased back into the corner of the sofa, where the material was completely worn from years of his own arse settling into its depths. Aye, this was home, and he was jolly glad to be here, particularly with Gwen.
He hoped she was feeling all right. For a woman who spent her life traveling, it was odd that this journey should tire her out. Perhaps it wasn’t the traveling, he thought, and found himself with a sudden grin stretched across his face that he quickly concealed.
Roderick had also become uncomfortably aware of the pang of hurt that had coursed through him when she had told the
family that she would be leaving to one of the cities. He had longed to tell her not to be silly, that she had found her place — a place with them. With him. The thought had caught him off guard, but it was something that he now couldn’t get out of his mind. Would she consider staying here and making a life with him?
He came back to the moment with a start, as he paid closer attention to his family and realized that they were not so much sitting in contentment but rather… they were eying him with interest. Interest, he knew, in who Gwen was and why she was with him.
He sighed. He supposed he best get on with it and tell them the truth. How could he make them see, make them understand that she was more than the gang she had been part of, more than the daughter of a bank robber, than a thief herself? Yet even as he thought of it, he realized how difficult it would be to convince them so soon. It had taken him days — weeks even — to realize it himself. But now was the time. Gwen was upstairs, having retired early, worn out from their travels. And he couldn’t lie to them any further.
Roderick opened his mouth to speak, but Peggy beat him to it.
“Well?” she asked. “How long is it going to take you to tell us who Gwen really is to you?”
He chuckled.
“Ah Peg, you haven’t changed a bit, and I must tell you I am glad of it,” he said with affection. “As to Gwen. She, ah, well she and I came to find ourselves with one another following some rather… unconventional circumstances.”
He looked around at the interested stares of Peggy, his brothers and their wives, Kyla and Rachel, and his parents. Duncan sat forward, his elbows on his knees as he leveled Roderick with an intense stare. Duncan was no one’s fool, and he hadn’t been quite as overjoyed as the rest of them at Roderick’s homecoming. If there was one regret Roderick had, it was the way he and his father had parted company. Duncan had been against him leaving, but Roderick had been adamant that nothing and no one could hold him back. And now, here he was. But, he reminded himself, back to Gwen.
Roderick’s Purpose: The Victorian Highlanders Book 4 Page 11