The Highlander and the Wallflower

by Michelle Willingham

  He reached out to take her hand. ‘Because you needed it.’ Though he did nothing more than hold her hand, shivers erupted against her skin. She was torn between wanting to pull back and knowing that he was not threatening her.

  It was as if her mind and her body were separate beings. She knew that he desired her, but why? This went beyond friendship. ‘Camford, I don’t think—’

  ‘You needn’t worry that I will ask for more than you can give,’ he interrupted.

  Her cheeks flamed at the mention of intimacy. Even now, just the touch of his hand upon her palm, was enough to unnerve her. Regina calmed herself and took a deep breath. ‘That—that’s good,’ she agreed. To calm herself, she pulled her hands back and folded them in her lap.

  But her mind was spinning with the true consequences of what she’d done. Camford was right. Even without a legal marriage, the rest of the world would believe that she given herself to him. ‘I am grateful that you came to my aid today.’ He had done everything in his power to save her, and she was thankful for the farce.

  He inclined his head and then asked again, ‘So what do you want to do about...us?’

  Regina drew in a deep breath. The last time she had made choices freely, her rebellion had resulted in disaster. For the past five years, she had retreated into herself, allowing others to shape her life. It had been a means of survival, of pushing back the harsh memories and falling into a pattern of obedience.

  But now, she wanted to emerge from that shell, to begin making her own decisions again. And to do that, she needed time.

  She tried to keep her voice gentle and calm. ‘Camford, please don’t force me into another marriage. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.’

  His green eyes remained steady, but she saw the slight hurt within them. This marriage had been a heroic act, and she was grateful for it—but she could not let him believe that she would submit to him as a proper wife should.

  ‘In time, the gossip will die down,’ she said. ‘And it’s not truly necessary for me to remain in their social circles. I would be quite content not to return to London.’

  His expression revealed that he didn’t believe that at all. ‘And what about my servants? What do you intend to tell them?’

  She raised her chin. ‘Tell your staff whatever you wish. Let them believe we are married, if you like. But you and I will know the truth.’

  It was evident that he didn’t agree with her at all, and he tried again, lightening his tone. ‘You were prepared to wed Lachlan in an arrangement. Why not do the same with me?’

  Because it would never be the same with him. Every touch, every moment was heightened in his presence. Dalton St George was so very dangerous to her heart, for she could not remain indifferent. Even now, she was remembering the stolen kiss and the way it had moved her.

  He tried again. ‘They’re naught but words spoken with a licence. We gave the words already. All we need is the legal paper.’

  She couldn’t truly explain her reluctance, for she didn’t want him to know of her hidden feelings. All she knew was that marriage to this man would shatter the walls of ice she had so carefully erected. She wasn’t able to risk a true marriage. Not yet.

  She took a breath and straightened in her seat. ‘I will gladly compensate you for the inconvenience of being your house guest for a while.’

  ‘You’re not a house guest.’ His voice turned dark, revealing his frustration. And she simply didn’t know how to ease his anger.

  ‘Yes, I am, Lord Camford. It’s all I can be.’ Her heart was pounding as she tried to maintain a brave front of prim behaviour. Year of behaving like a proper lady were her only weapon against this man. She still hadn’t forgotten his kiss, and there was no doubt that he wanted more.

  For a long moment, he studied her. His gaze moved over her hair, to her face, and at last, he turned away. There was a grim tone in his voice and he said, ‘Very well. Then I swear, I won’t touch you again. You will be a house guest, nothing more.’

  The words should have been reassuring. Instead, it felt like a judgement, and a sudden loneliness descended over her.

  He is doing the right thing, her brain insisted. He’s behaving like a gentleman.

  But I don’t know if I want him to be a gentleman any more, her heart answered.

  She longed for the bold Highlander who had carried her away.

  ‘It has been a long day. I am so tired,’ she said. It was a temporary means of ceasing their argument, and she hoped he would understand.

  ‘Then lie down and rest,’ he offered. ‘I will let you know when we stop for the night.’

  Regina curled up to try to sleep, though the coach was not at all comfortable. But as she started to close her eyes, she caught him staring at her as if he couldn’t quite believe what had happened this day.

  Neither could she.

  * * *

  Dalton stopped the coach at an inn later that night and bought food for everyone to eat. Regina’s demeanour held tension, and he knew she was nearly at her breaking point. Her refusal to have a true marriage with him had been clear enough. She didn’t want him and never had. It felt as if she’d sliced him in half, ripping his heart from his chest.

  You’re not the man she wants. You never will be.

  His pride ached, and he forced the pain away. He had known it was a risk to steal her away from the wedding, but a part of him had hoped that she might allow him to court her. Now he knew that would never happen. She wanted to be a damned house guest, not a wife.

  So be it. He would take her to Scotland with him, and she could do as she pleased until the threat of the blackmailer was resolved. He would lock away his own feelings and never bother her.

  ‘Will you take me to my room?’ she asked Dalton softly. ‘I would like to eat alone.’

  Given how crowded the inn was, he could understand her wishes. But he hadn’t yet told her that there was only one room available. And he didn’t know where he would stay if she refused to let him share the space. Which, undoubtedly, she would.

  Instead, Dalton gave a nod and took the tray of food from the innkeeper’s wife. He led Regina upstairs before he unlocked the door and set the food down on the table inside. She was eyeing him as if she intended to dismiss him from her presence. Instead, he sat down in the other chair. ‘Do you mind if I share a meal with you before I go?’

  Her shoulders relaxed as she took a chair on the opposite side of the tiny table. ‘Of course not.’

  Dalton dipped a piece of bread into the hot stew and devoured it. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was until now. ‘I suppose we should have taken some food from the wedding feast,’ he said. ‘I’m starving.’

  ‘I think you were too busy carrying me off.’ But she ventured a slight smile and took a spoonful of her own stew. For a while, they ate in silence. She savoured the stew, sipping it slowly. ‘It’s delicious.’

  ‘So it is.’ But he was speaking of her, not the stew. She had removed her bonnet, and her red hair gleamed in the candlelight. Though several strands were escaping, she smoothed them back, tucking them away—as if she would never consider the idea of unbinding her hair. Her blue eyes were thoughtful, and her manners were impeccable. She was a lady in every sense of the word.

  And yet, the taste of her lips haunted him. The softness of her mouth, the way she had yielded to him earlier today, made him want to kiss her again.

  But she wouldn’t want that. As the meal drew to a close, Dalton had no idea what to say to her. It was as if he were living in a dream, married to the idealised woman he’d loved for years. But the flesh-and-blood woman was so very different. Regina didn’t feel the same towards him, and he was at a loss on what to do now.

  When she had finished eating, his wife stood. ‘Thank you for the meal, Dalton. I think I will retire now.’

  She was waiting for him to leav
e, but there was nowhere to go. The servants were all crowded together on the floor of the inn downstairs, and he wasn’t about to join them. Instead, he decided to guard her room from the outside. He stood and said, ‘Goodnight.’

  Dalton departed her room, closed the door behind him, and sat in the hallway. It was the strangest wedding night he’d ever imagined. And yet, she had been clear about her wishes. Making demands would get him nowhere, save to make her uncomfortable. He started to take off his shoes, wondering if he would get any sleep at all. It was highly unlikely. But the moment he lay down in the hall, the door opened. He stared up at Regina’s confused expression. ‘Dalton, what are you doing?’

  ‘Finding a place to sleep,’ he explained. ‘There was only one room.’ He crossed his arms behind his head.

  Her face held consternation, and she shook her head. ‘No, my lord. You cannot sleep in the hall.’

  ‘The floor of the inn would be worse,’ he countered. ‘I’d rather not have our coachman and the other guests casting judgement over us.’

  She opened the door wider. ‘What I meant was that you should come inside.’

  Worry knotted her face, and when he didn’t move, she reached down with her hand. ‘Don’t stay out there.’

  He took her hand and slowly rose to his feet. ‘I won’t be bothering you, lass. There’s naught to be afraid of.’

  ‘I—I know.’ She turned and gathered a blanket and her own pillow from the bed. ‘Take these, and you can sleep over there.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Though he still didn’t think he would be able to sleep much at all, being in the same room as Regina. Her nerves were palpable, and he wanted a means of turning the conversation so she would not feel threatened. Upon the far end of the room, he spied a small shelf with a wooden chess set upon it. ‘Would you want to play a game of chess to pass the time?’

  She did turn around at that, and her brow furrowed. ‘Chess? At this hour?’

  Dalton shrugged. ‘If you’re wanting to sleep, go on then,’ he said. But spread out the thin blanket upon the floor. There was no hearth, so he intended to make the best of what he had for bedding.

  Regina’s own bed appeared bare, with only a linen sheet and no pillow. He didn’t want to take from her, especially now. ‘You should keep the pillow. It will be more comfortable for you.’

  ‘I have the mattress,’ she answered. ‘Keep it for yourself.’ She sat down on the bed and tried to curl up, closing her eyes. He could imagine her discomfort, for she still wore her stays and petticoats. But he wasn’t about to offer to undress her, given how skittish she was.

  Dalton finished unpinning part of the tartan and folded it, setting it aside. Then he laid back against the pillow, staring at the cracked ceiling of the inn. He was starting to count backwards from one hundred when Regina suddenly sat up.

  ‘I’m tired,’ she admitted, ‘yet, I do not think I can fall asleep just now. I feel...distracted.’

  He couldn’t have agreed more. But his reasons for being restless had nothing to do with distraction and everything to do with physical frustration. He sat up and turned to look at his bride.

  ‘Perhaps one game would help to relax both of us,’ Regina said. ‘If you’re willing.’

  ‘Aye,’ he agreed.

  She crossed the room and brought the chess set over to the table. ‘But I will confess that I am terrible at chess.’

  ‘So am I,’ he lied. He rose from his place on the floor and stretched. His shirt hung open, and she glanced at his chest before she blushed. It made him wonder if she had any interest at all, or whether it was merely embarrassment.

  ‘I know a way to make the game more interesting,’ he said. ‘Would you care to place a wager on the outcome?’

  She set up her pieces while he did the same. ‘It depends on the wager.’

  ‘If you win, what do you want from me?’ he asked.

  She thought a moment. ‘I would like to go riding in Scotland. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a horse. I miss it.’

  ‘Done,’ he agreed. He had several horses at Cairnross, and she would enjoy riding across the fields.

  ‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘What is it you want if you win?’ From the suspicious tone of her voice, he knew he had to tread carefully.

  At first, he wasn’t certain he should admit it, but then he decided he might as well be truthful. She would likely refuse anyway. ‘I want a kiss, freely given. Nothing more.’

  Her face flushed, and she appeared wary. ‘Dalton, I’m not certain that is a good idea.’

  ‘If you win, it won’t matter, will it?’ He reached for his pawn and made the first move.

  ‘I’ve already said that I am terrible at chess. And it’s a bad idea.’ Even so, she claimed his pawn as her own.

  ‘Kissing you is never a bad idea,’ he countered. ‘But I will not force you into anything. If I win, it’s your choice whether to grant my request.’

  She appeared unconvinced but turned her attention back to their match. As they began to play, he saw her strategy. Whether she would admit it or not, Regina was quite good. She sacrificed a few pieces to make bigger moves, and he found that the game was more challenging than he’d imagined.

  It intrigued him, and when he placed her in check, she studied him with interest. ‘You lied about your skill, Dalton.’

  ‘So did you. But does it matter?’ He watched as she considered her next move.

  ‘I still want to go riding. I love horses,’ she admitted.

  He eyed her closely. ‘You realise, we could both win this game. Even if I take the match, I’d be glad to take you out riding.’

  After his answer, she eyed him, her head slightly tilted in consideration. Then she made her last move, putting herself in checkmate.

  The game was his. And yet, it was only beginning.

  * * *

  Regina hesitated, waiting for Dalton to speak. But he said nothing to her—he only waited with infinite patience.

  I can’t do this, her brain protested. Not because kissing him was frightening—quite the opposite. The last time he had kissed her, she had felt a part of herself awakening. Yearning, even. She wasn’t afraid of Dalton demanding more from her. She was afraid of her own response to him.

  Her heart was thundering in her chest, and Dalton remained motionless. He’d asked for a kiss, freely given. And she could not deny that she wanted to kiss him.

  His eyes were dark and hooded, and he waited for her to approach. She wasn’t certain whether to lean down, but when she drew near, he pulled her to sit on his lap. Then he let his hands fall away, in a silent invitation.

  She rested her hands on his shoulders, feeling uncertain. Restless emotions rose up within her, along with her own insecurities. Dalton’s body was strung tight, as if he was barely hanging on to control.

  And yet, she was drawn to this man.

  He was handsome, with dark blond hair and green eyes that were sometimes blue, depending on the way the light played. His face was clean shaven, and she reached out to touch his cheek. The angle of his jaw and the strong face made him more masculine. He was waiting for her to kiss him, but she could not yet abandon her fears.

  It had been years since she had been violated, and the harsh reality kept invading the present moment.

  But he seemed to guess her hesitation, and he reminded her, ‘I will never harm you, Regina. You are in command.’

  She believed him, for in his voice, there was complete sincerity. And perhaps he would help her to move forward, to put the past behind her. She put her arms around his neck and leaned in for the promised kiss.

  But when her mouth came to his, she felt a breathless longing. The moment she kissed him, he kissed her back. She tasted his lips, and there was a hint of ale upon them from their earlier meal. His mouth was heated, giving a sensual caress that reached deep ins
ide her. She had only meant for it to be a brief kiss, but she found herself captivated. Against her hip, she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal, and panic rose up.

  But he did nothing, except continue to kiss her. And when she drew back, his eyes were dark and filled with desire.

  Regina waited for him to make demands, to press her, but he did nothing except drink in the sight of her. She felt breathless, unable to grasp the fleeting thoughts that went through her mind. She didn’t know what to do now. She wanted to kiss him again...and yet, she feared it would only evoke temptation. She didn’t want a true marriage with Dalton. It wasn’t possible to forget the past.

  But right now, she wanted to weep, for he had made the kiss so good. He made her feel things she’d never imagined she could feel. And it terrified her.

  ‘Why did you marry me, Dalton?’ she whispered.

  ‘Because you needed my help.’ He drew his hand over her, gently stroking the base of her spine.

  ‘That doesn’t truly answer my question. We’ve known each other for years, yes. But I never gave you any signs of...more.’

  He kept his hands upon her spine while she remained seated on his lap. ‘When my brother died, most people kept a respectful distance because of my parents’ grief. You were the only one to notice that I was in pain.’

  ‘I saw you leave the burial,’ she argued. ‘You didn’t need to be alone.’

  ‘No one else came but you.’ He reached up and drew his thumb down the line of her jaw. The simple touch undid her, and she felt the heat down to her bones. ‘To you, it was nothing. To me, it was everything.’

  He kept his palm against her cheek. ‘But I know I’m not the man you wanted.’ With that, he pulled his hand away, giving her the chance to leave.

  She knew she should get up from his lap, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. His touch had made her crave more, and she didn’t understand what he had evoked. The heat of his skin and the thrumming of her heart only heightened the sensations rising inside.

  ‘We should go to sleep now,’ she whispered. ‘It’s late.’