The door opened. Laden like a pack horse, Gordon walked in and set the satchels and baskets down in the center of the chamber. Then he hurried across the room to help her make the bed.
Rob fluffed the second pillow in place, and Gordon spread the fur coverlet across the blanket. Standing on opposite sides of the bed, they touched each other with their gazes. Mesmerized by the tender expression in his eyes, Rob felt a melting sensation in the pit of her stomach and knew, without a doubt, that this was where her husband would make her his wife in fact as well as name.
“I’ll light the fire,” Gordon said in a husky voice, breaking the spell his piercing gray gaze had woven around her. “Biddy packed us a pot of stew. Could ye warm it while I feed the horses and bed them down for the night?”
“Fetch us a couple of buckets of water,” she ordered.
Gordon grinned at her. “Damsel, yer merest wish is my command.”
Rob watched her husband start the fire in the hearth and then return to their pile of supplies in the middle of the floor. When he pulled a covered pot from one of the baskets and retraced his steps toward the hearth, she stopped him.
“Gordy?”
He turned around. “Aye?”
Rob stepped up to him and lifted the pot out of his hands, saying, “I’ll do that. Take care of the horses.”
A doubtful expression appeared on his face. “Are ye certain?”
“I amna crippled,” she assured him.
Gordon smiled. “The kitchen is yers, angel.”
Rob set the pot of stew on the hook over the hearth and stirred it with a ladle. She headed across the room to the crockery shelves. Lifting two bowls, she used the bottom edge of her skirt to wipe the dust from them and then searched the food basket for the hunk of brown bread that Biddy always served with stew. She set that down on the table between their bowls.
Rob raced back to the hearth and stirred the stew again. She didn’t want the first meal she’d ever cooked for her husband to stick to the bottom of the pot. When he returned, she was already hanging their clothing on the wooden pegs on either side of the door.
“It smells delicious,” Gordon said, returning with a bucket of water in each of his hands. He set them down near the hearth and helped her unpack their belongings.
Deeming the stew sufficiently warmed, Rob filled their bowls and announced, “My lord, I give ye Campbell soup.”
Surprising her, Gordon reached across the table and covered her hand with his own. “Have I told ye today how lovely ye are?” he asked.
Rob blushed and smiled at his compliment, but a low whining ruined the intimate moment. Both looked down and saw Smooches sitting beside the table.
“Stay where ye are,” Gordon said when she started to rise. He filled a bowl with stew and set it on the floor beside the table for Smooches.
“Since we’re here to become acquainted without pryin’ eyes watchin’ us,” Gordon said, “tell me about yerself, angel.”
“I’ve led a verra unexcitin’ life,” Rob replied, uncertain of what he wanted to know.
“How did ye come by yer name?” Gordon asked. “I ken yer father named ye in honor of Robert the Bruce, but ‘tis puzzlin’ why he didna name one of yer brothers after the man.”
“Well, it happened like this,” Rob said with a smile. “My parents decided they would take turns naming their children. When my oldest brother was born, my father named him John Andrew after my grandfather, but we call him Dubh because he’s dark. My mother named their second son Ross, but when the third arrived, she insisted on calling him James after the king. My mother became pregnant again, and for nine months, my father reminded her that this time he’d name the babe. Unfortunately for my da, I was a girl, but he named me Rob Bruce anyway. I think ’twas revenge on my mother for takin’ two turns in a row.”
Gordon was chuckling by the time she finished her tale. “I dinna recall such goin’s-on between my parents,” he said. “My mother died when I was ten years. She was the youngest daughter of the Gordon chieftain, and ’tis the reason my parents called me Gordon. My oldest uncle, George Gordon, is now the Gordon chieftain. The ‘Cock of the North,’ as they say.”
“Is that why the sayin’ goes, ‘the Gordons only talk to the Campbells, and the Campbells only talk to God’?” Rob teased him.
“We Campbells talk to the MacArthurs,” Gordon said with a smile. “Tell me, lass. What did ye think of me that first day when we wed in yer father’s hall?”
“Why would ye want to know that?”
Gordon shrugged. “Curiosity.”
“As I recall, I thought ye were handsome and brave and gallant,” Rob admitted. “I also thought ye were verra old. Elderly, in fact.”
Gordon burst out laughing. “I thought ye were the sweetest angel I’d ever seen.”
Rob blushed and dropped her gaze to her bowl of stew.
“The others will be arrivin’ in the valley tomorrow,” Gordon said, changing the subject. “As a boy, I always loved attendin’ the summer shielin’ . . . Dinna move. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Gordon left the lodge, and Rob wondered what he was doing. Ten minutes later, she heard him calling her name. With Smooches accompanying her, she stepped outside the lodge.
Smiling, Gordon stood there and offered her a wild-flower bouquet of pale pink lady’s smock, purple lady’s slipper orchids, and white trilliums.
“Will ye accept starlight for tonight instead of the sunshine ye ordered?” he asked.
Rob looked up at the sky. Surrounded by thousands of glittering stars, a crescent moon hung overhead in a bed of black velvet.
“Aye, my lord,” she answered, accepting his bouquet of wildflowers.
Standing beside her, Gordon drew her against his body. In silence, they watched Smooches scampering around, sniffing here and there.
“I’ll stay here with the pup while ye take care of yer private needs,” Gordon said, planting a kiss on the crown other head.
Walking back inside the lodge, Rob washed her face and rinsed her teeth, and then changed into her nightgown. She dragged a chair close to the hearth, untied her braids, and then brushed her hair.
Gordon returned a short time later. He leaned close and kissed her cheek, saying, “’Tis time for sleepin’, angel.”
While he smothered the fire in the hearth, Rob climbed into their bed and waited nervously. Was this the moment he’d make her his? She heard him moving around the room and then getting undressed. The bed creaked beneath his weight as he climbed in beside her.
“Good night, angel,” Gordon whispered, and promptly fell asleep.
Rob lay there in surprise. Why had he bothered to bring her all the way up into the mountains if he wasn’t going to make love to her? She didn’t wonder about that long, though. Their journey and the day’s unexpected events had wearied her, and she soon joined her husband in sleep.
* * *
“Wake up, angel.”
Rob heard the voice but kept her eyes closed in the hope that if she feigned sleep, those three words she’d come to despise would go away. Ah, but the invitingly husky sound other husband’s voice warmed her all over, and the faintest of smiles touched her lips.
“See what I’ve brought ye,” Gordon coaxed, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Rob opened her eyes and blinked at the blinding sunshine streaming through the lodge’s open door. She shielded her eyes with one hand and looked at her husband.
He smiled and offered her a fresh bouquet of wildflowers. In his free hand, he held a bowl filled with something that smelled delicious.
“I give ye sunshine, flowers, and the gift of my smile,” Gordon said. “This mornin’ I’ve added a bowl of oatmeal porridge sprinkled with cinnamon.”
Rob sat up and leaned back against the headboard. She yawned and pushed several wisps of her ebony mane off her face, unaware of how delightfully disheveled she appeared as if caught in a lover’s tryst.
Taking the bowl and the spoon out
of his hand, Rob tasted the porridge. “Why, ’tis delicious with the cinnamon,” she said. “Ye are na eatin’?”
“When a man rises with the dawn,” Gordon told her, “he canna wait until the sun is high to break his fast.”
“What were ye doin’?”
“Feedin’ the horses and fishin’ in the stream,” he answered. “I’ve got a bucket of fish outside. Later, I’ll clean a couple for our dinner and send the rest down to the valley when the others arrive this afternoon.”
Rob nodded. “Where’s Smooches?”
“Sleepin’ in the corner. I guess the fishin’ tired him out. Would ye like to bathe?”
“Aye, but —” Rob scanned the chamber but saw no tub.
“Angel, nobody bathes in a tub durin’ the summer shielin’.” Gordon lifted the empty bowl out of her hands and set it on the table, then grabbed two towels and said, “I’ll wait for ye outside.”
Rob dressed hurriedly and emerged from the lodge a few minutes later without her dog. “I couldna rouse Smooches,” she said as they started down one of the paths.
The day was simply perfection, an exact replica of the previous one. Blue skies blanketed the tops of the trees, and warm sun shone down on them.
A feeling of security permeated Rob’s senses. Was the rare perfection of this Highland weather a good omen? she wondered. Was there hope for Gordon and her after all? She flicked a sidelong glance at his incredibly handsome profile and could hardly believe that he belonged to her.
And how many others? the voice of insecurity intruded upon her buoyant feeling.
“So, where do we bathe?” Rob asked, trying to banish the disturbing thought into the netherworld other mind.
“The pool in the valley is only a ten-minute walk,” Gordon replied. “’Tis beautiful at this time of day.”
Rob stopped short. When he turned around, she shook her head and said, “I canna do that.”
“Do what, angel?”
“Bathe in the pool.”
Gordon snapped his brows together. “But why?”
“I dinna care for the water,” she answered. “I’d rather be dirty.”
“And stink too?” he teased her.
Rob didn’t smile. Her heart was beating rapidly, and her hands at her sides already trembled with her fear. He wouldn’t force her to do this, would he?
“There’s nothin’ to fear,” Gordon assured her. “I’ll teach ye to swim.”
“I know how to swim but dinna like deep water,” she cried.
Gordon waited in silence for her to continue.
“I had a verra bad experience once,” Rob explained, praying he’d be understanding. “A crofter’s daughter nearly drowned.” She touched his forearm and pleaded, “Please, Gordy. Dinna force me to do this.”
Gordon put his arm around her and drew her close against his body. “Angel, have I ever forced ye to do anythin’ ye didna want to do?”
“Ye did so,” Rob answered, nodding her head like a young girl. “Ye forced me to leave England, ye forced me to sleep outside on our journey to Inverary, and —”
“Enough,” Gordon said with a smile. “I willna force ye to do this.” He thought a long moment and then suggested, “We could take a pigeon bath in the stream. The water is only as high as yer waist, but if we sit, we’ll get wet.”
“I’d like that much better,” she agreed.
Hand in hand, Gordon and Rob retraced their steps and followed another path that led away from Glen Aray. Dew still dropped lightly from the woodland trees, and the scent of heather wafted through the air. Sparkling sunbeams danced across the top of the water.
At the stream’s edge, they sat down on the rocks and removed their boots and their stockings. Gordon stood first, pulled his shirt over his head, and then dropped his plaid.
Great Bruce’s ghost, the man’s naked, Rob thought as she stared with wide eyes at his back. Without thinking, she began to admire his broad shoulders, his tapered waist, and his wonderfully tight buttocks. What would it feel like to have his strength pressing her down in their bed?
When he moved to turn around, Rob snapped her eyes shut.
“Are ye goin’ to sit there blushin’?” Gordon asked. “Or were ye plannin’ on bathin’?”
Rob heard the laughter in his voice but couldn’t quite summon the courage to look at him. “Gordy, yer naked,” she whispered in a choked voice.
“’Tis how I usually wash,” he replied. “Do ye bathe with yer clothin’ on?”
Rob shook her head but kept her eyes closed. “Ye promised ye wouldna force me,” she reminded him.
“Angel, I’ll never force ye to do anythin’,” Gordon replied. “Besides, this water’s so cold ’tis certain to shrivel me.”
“I dinna ken. What do ye mean?”
Gordon chuckled. “Never mind, my innocent angel. What if I sit down so my privates are na exposed?”
“’Twould help.” Rob opened her eyes when she heard the splash of water as he sat. He looked so silly sitting in the stream and smiling at her, Rob was unable to suppress the giggle that bubbled up in her throat. The picture he presented reminded her of that night in the tavern when he’d bathed in a tub built for a dwarf.
“Yer turn, my love.”
My love. Were those special words merely a sophisticated courtier’s figure of speech? Or did he actually mean what he said?
“I’m waitin’.”
Rob stood slowly. She dropped her skirt and then pulled her blouse over her head. She felt horribly awkward wearing only her chemise while he sat there and stared at her.
“Could ye close yer eyes until I’m sittin’ in the water too?” she asked. “I’d feel ever so much more comfortable if ye werena watchin’ me take my chemise off.”
Gordon smiled and closed his eyes. He’d been about to tell her to leave her chemise on, but if she was willing to strip, he wasn’t about to stop her. A long, silent moment passed. He heard her wading into the stream and then sensed her beside him.
“Great Bruce’s ghost, the water doesna cover my —”
Gordon opened his eyes and looked at her. Her perfectly rounded breasts with their pink-tipped nipples rose above the water. When she moved her arms to cover her bared breasts, he reached out and stayed her hands.
“Angel, dinna hide yer beauty from me,” Gordon said, his voice husky with long-denied need.
Rob dropped her arms and stared at him through emerald eyes large with wonder.
“Och, lass. Yer lovely.” Gordon lowered his head and covered her mouth in a gentle, probing kiss. “I didna purposefully lie this time,” he whispered against her lips. “I merely misjudged the water level.”
That made Rob smile. And she relaxed against him.
Gordon put his right arm around her shoulder and kissed her again. He slid the top of his tongue across the crease between her lips, which parted for him. Gently and lingeringly, he kissed her, his tongue exploring the sweetness of her mouth. Caressing her breasts, he ran his thumb across her sensitive nipples and teased them into aroused hardness.
Rob sucked in her breath at the incredible sensation. And she knew desire.
“Yer ripe for me, but I willna take ye here,” Gordon said, staring at her dazed expression. “Ye deserve a sweet memory of our first lovemakin’, and sittin’ in this stream lacks the proper atmosphere.” He kissed her again and whispered, “Tonight, angel. I’ll love ye tonight.”
Noting the high color staining her cheeks, Gordon said, “God’s balls, lass. Ye blush more than any ten women I’ve ever known. I’m goin’ to stand now and help ye up. Close yer eyes if ye dinna want to be startled.”
Gordon smiled when she instantly snapped her eyes shut. He drew her to her feet, lifted her into his arms, and carried her to shore. Ever so slowly, he slid her down the long length of his muscular frame as he set her on her feet.
“’Tis a sinful sensation,” Rob said, gazing up at him.
“’Tis no sin for old married couples like us,”
Gordon told her. “Turn around and dress yerself, and I’ll turn the other way.”
“Verra well.” Rob showed him her back and quickly toweled herself dry. Reaching for her chemise, she sensed no movement behind her and said, “No peekin’.”
“Peekin’ is part of the fun,” Gordon replied, admiring the appealing shape of her derriere.
“Ye said we’d —” Rob turned and saw him standing there smiling at her. Instinctively, she dropped her gaze to his groin. “Great Bruce’s ghost,” she cried, whirling around.
Gordon chuckled and reached for his plaid. His bride was an innocent angel and an irresistible temptress. He could hardly wait to initiate her into the ways of carnal love.
“Was that Sorrow or Care we were sittin’ in?” Rob asked to cover her embarrassment.
Gordon grinned and yanked her against the side of his body as they started down the path again. “Lovey, I’m aboot to newly christen it Joy,” he said.
Dewey was waiting for them when they returned to the lodge. With Smooches in his arms, the giant sat in the chair in front of the hearth but stood when they walked in.
“Has everyone arrived in the valley?” Gordon asked by way of a greeting.
“Aye,” the big man answered.
“Good day to ye, Dewey,” Rob said. “Is Gabby aboot?”
“She’s down in the valley. Did ye want her for somethin’?”
Rob shook her head.
Dewey kissed Smooches on the nose and let the pup lick his cheek. “He’s verra friendly, considerin’ he’s English and all.” The giant winked at them and added, “I see ye’ve been playin’ Adam and Eve.”
Gordon flicked a glance at his wife. Her complexion was a vibrant scarlet like a child caught in the act of doing something forbidden. What a blusher she was.
“What can I do for ye?” he asked his man.
“Nothin’, I’ve come to do for ye.”
Gordon cocked a brow at the giant.
“Ye forgot yer supply of whiskey and yer golf bag,” Dewey told him. “The whiskey’s on the table and the bag’s in the corner.”
Courting an Angel Page 24