Kiss the Wallflower: Books 1-3
Page 30
A shadow passed over her and she glanced up to see Brice standing before her, his trews damp, his boots mud-splattered.
She glanced at him, not moving, and he stared back and all thoughts of leaving him alone, of not touching him again, flew right out of her mind. He closed the space between them, wrenched her out of her seat and kissed her.
Hard.
Sophie melted against him, wrapping her arms about his waist. She kissed him back with as much passion as she could summon. Heedless of where they were or who could walk in on them at any moment, the kiss went on, her body aching for things no well-bred young lady ought to want.
He clasped her chin and tilted her head to kiss her deep. She moaned when he stepped into her, pushing his hardness against her stomach.
“I missed ye today,” he said, breaking the kiss.
She took a calming breath, nodding. “I missed you too.”
He shook his head, scowling. “I canna stay away from ye. I’ve tried. I canna do it.”
Sophie licked her lips, unable to hide the pleasure his words brought forth. Her body felt as though it were on fire, alive and burning for the man before her.
“I want you too,” she said, having never uttered anything so scandalous or truthful to a man before in her life. Brice was a laird, a gentleman, he would not hide anything from her. Gretel was wrong. The rumors were wrong.
“When can we be alone?” she asked, wanting him to say now. Follow me and we’ll be alone right now.
He glanced behind himself and stepped back. “I will not ruin ye, Sophie. No matter how tempting ye are or how much I want ye in my bed.”
She shivered at the thought. Now that she’d seen him naked, to picture him above her on a soft bed, his strong, muscled body pinning her down made her body ache. “And if I want you to? What then?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. A muscle worked in his jaw before he said, “Dinna tempt me, lass. I’m drawing every ounce of honor I have not to take ye whenever I see ye about the house. Ye’re literally driving me mad.”
She grinned, the fact that she drove him to distraction was a welcome reprieve for he drove her mad as well. “It’s my choice, is it not? What if I choose you?”
He reached out, running a hand across her cheek, one finger trailing across her lips before he let it fall to his side. “Ye cannot.”
Sophie raised her brow. “We’ll see about that.”
“See about what?” Elspeth asked, coming into the room, a book held against her chest.
Sophie didn’t move, but she could not say the same about Brice. He started at the sound of Elspeth’s voice and couldn’t look more guilty if he tried. She smiled at Elspeth before taking her seat again. “We thought we may take a ride tomorrow, if the weather turns back to being pleasant. I was merely saying we’ll have to see about it.”
Elspeth nodded, glancing out the window before seating herself beside Sophie and opening her book. “I’ll not be riding. Have ye forgotten that Mama will be arriving tomorrow, Brice? She’ll want to see ye, of course.”
Brice’s face paled before he smiled. “Nay, of course I had not forgotten. We can ride after yer mother arrives if ye do wish to come. She normally travels in the morning in any case.”
“Hmm, yes, she does,” Elspeth said, her tone disinterested and bored. “But no, I shall stay here. Thank ye for the invitation though.”
Brice bowed, inching back toward the door. “I’ll see ye at dinner,” he said to them both. Sophie leaned back in the settee, wondering why he was a little unsettled by the news of Elspeth’s mother’s arrival. Maybe there was an understanding between them. But how could she ask such a question without looking like a woman who was seeking her own proposal?
It was such a private thing to query about that she would have to figure out another way to ask in a roundabout way. Elspeth chuckled at something in her book and Sophie glanced at the young woman. She was pretty in her own way, her red hair long and curly, bringing out the green in her eyes. But there was something about her that didn’t fit with Brice. They were friends, that she had no doubt, but there was no spark, no desire. Not like when she was around him.
Just the thought of having him near her made her shiver and ache with need. His voice gave her lascivious ideas, and as for his wicked mouth and hands, well, she would never tire of those on her body.
None of that would matter if he was going to marry someone else. As for that institution, Sophie wasn’t certain she wanted to live so very far away from her family should he ask. There were many obstacles to work through should they align their families. If only he lived in London, then he would never be rid of her and the choice to marry him would be as easy as breathing.
Brice stood out in front of his home, Elspeth at his side, her arm linked with his as her mother’s carriage rolled down the drive and before the castle doors.
Elspeth had taken after her father in looks and mannerisms and was the opposite to what her mother was like. In the woman’s youth she’d been a reputed beauty that even his own father had courted before his beloved mama had won his heart.
A footman opened the carriage door and Brice helped her down and kissed her cheek. “Welcome, Lady Brodie. ’Tis good to have ye here with us again.”
She slapped his chest playfully, turning to her daughter. “Enough with the Lady Brodie, Brice. Ye know my name is Margaret.”
He smiled as she kissed her daughter, before they headed indoors, chatting to themselves. He followed behind into the great hall where they had set up a small repast for lunch before they headed out on their afternoon ride.
Sophie and Elizabeth were already in the hall and he couldn’t help the small twitch of his lips at seeing her again. Every time he saw her something in his chest tightened and he was starting to think for the very first time in his life he’d fallen for a lass.
And not just any lass, but an English one at that. She watched him, her wide, blue eyes glistening with amusement and knowledge that only they shared. A mutual understanding of enjoyment, of attraction.
For he certainly felt that for the lass. To the point where he’d tell his family and Elspeth’s to go to Hades so he could have the one woman who made him burn.
“This is Miss Sophie Grant, Mama. She’s the Marquess Graham’s sister-in-law. She’s staying here from London.”
Sophie curtsied and smiled at Margaret. Lady Brodie’s demeanor changed within an instant, cooled and became more aloof than he’d ever seen before.
“Miss Grant. How fortuitous that you are here. I understand from my daughter’s letters that you’ll be leaving us soon, heading farther into the highlands, I understand.”
“Ah, not any more, my lady. I fell over on my first day here in the village and injured myself. The laird and Miss Elizabeth were kind enough to allow me to stay here while I recovered, but the delay has stopped me from being able to visit my friend in Skye. I do hope however that she can travel here for a stay.”
Margaret laughed, a tinkling sound that oozed condescension. “The guest is now inviting other guests to stay.” She turned to Brice, her smile brittle. “Has the Laird of Mackintosh been taken in, I wonder.”
His sister glanced at him wide-eyed and he counted to five before replying lest he set one of his family’s oldest friends back in her carriage and send her on her way. “’Twas my idea to invite Miss Grant’s friend to stay. We’re loath to see her leave and wished to prolong her visit her as much as we could.”
Sophie threw him a thankful smile as Elizabeth clasped her hand.
“Shall we have some tea?” he asked, wanting to change the subject.
“I think a whiskey will do me better,” Margaret said, her tone cold. She sat on a nearby chair and glanced at them all as if she were the matriarch here. “Miss Grant, yer sister married very well. When I heard of yer particulars I wrote to my friend in London. She informed me yer elder sister was a lady’s maid and now here ye are, a guest at an earl’s home. Ye must be well-pleased.”
“I’m very pleased for her, my lady. She married the man she loved, which can never be a fault.”
Margaret raised her brow. “Ach, but does the marquess love her in return? ’Tis all very well to love one’s husband, but these London marriages are never happy ones. Too much diversion, too many temptations. I’m very well-pleased that we live where we do. Ye may keep yer town life, Miss Grant. ’Tis not for a Scot.”
“I for one enjoyed London when I traveled there,” Elizabeth said, taking Sophie and seating her on a settee a little distance away from Lady Brodie. A fortunate thing since the woman had released her claws and was wanting to scratch Sophie’s eyes out from the looks of it.
“I agree, Elizabeth. I think London would do me very well should I travel there.” He winked at Sophie and she smiled at him. Once again it was as if the sun came out and warmed his soul. There was no use for it, he was besotted with her and now he had to figure out what the hell he was going to do about it.
“You are both more than welcome at the marquess’s home in London or Ashby House, which is in Kent, should you ever visit us.”
“And here ye are yet again, Miss Grant. Inviting people to homes that are not yer own.”
“Lady Brodie, that is unkind. Ye will apologize to Miss Grant,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.
Her ladyship’s mouth puckered up as if she’d eaten something sour. Brice held her gaze, not willing to have Sophie insulted through no fault of her own. She could not help who her sister married, and he was sure from the way Sophie spoke of her siblings that they were very close, and any friend of Sophie’s was a friend of theirs.
He frowned. Had Lady Brodie sensed his and Sophie’s connection? She’d certainly fixated on Sophie from the moment she arrived. Had Elspeth written to her ladyship of her concerns? The horror on Elspeth’s face right now after her mother’s atrocious behavior would make one think not.
“I apologize, Miss Grant. Ye must make allowances for my blunt tongue. ’Tis a Scottish habit I never grew out of.” Lady Margaret stood. “Come, Brice, there are things to discuss.”
She started for the door and Brice bowed before following the harridan out into the corridor. Something told him the things to discuss were exactly the things he wanted to avoid.
Chapter 12
“What is the meaning of this lass being here and the looks that ye both keep throwing each other? I’ll not have it, Brice. Ye’re to wed Elspeth and ye know it. ’Tis what ye agreed to before yer parents died.”
Brice sat behind his desk, hating that what she said was all true and cursing himself for the bloody fool he was in having promised such a thing when under stress from his parents’ illnesses.
“Ye know that I care for Elspeth and should she agree, of course I’ll marry her, but the marriage will not be one of affection. Not in the way that a marriage should be. Is that what ye want for yer daughter? Dinna ye want her to marry the man she loves, not merely respects?” Certainly after being with Sophie, he couldn’t think of anything worse than marrying a woman he did not desire every minute of every day and respect her opinion. Sophie was both delectable and intelligent, enjoyable to be around. She was certainly no simpering miss who would make his teeth ache from clenching.
“Bollocks. Elspeth cares for ye a great deal and should ye turn yer head her way ye’d see that. Ye need to send the English lass home and ye need to do it soon before she starts to get ideas into her head that ye are going to offer her marriage. Dinna think I’ve forgotten why ye have this grand home still in yer hands. ’Tis because of the Brodies and their blunt.”
“And the loan has been paid back in full with interest, need I remind ye.” He loathed that his parents had asked for help, and yet at the same time he was grateful still to have Mackintosh Castle in the family.
“Agreements were made as well as money passing between hands that day. Dinna forget yer promise, Brice. Yer parents would roll over in their graves should they know ye were playing with a Sassenach.”
He rubbed a hand over his jaw, the thought of Sophie going back to London haunted him. For her to be courted and admired, married to someone else made the blood in his veins chill. He glanced out the window, anywhere but at lady Brodie and her all-seeing eyes and viperish mouth.
“Her carriage is repaired and she is healed from her injury. I’m certain that Miss Grant will not be with us for too much longer.” Bile rose in his throat at his words. How would he ever send her away? To watch her carriage roll down the drive, out of his life forever made him want to punch something. Hard.
“Good, for I would hate to see a young Scottish lord such as yerself throw away yer future happiness on a Sassenach. Marriage to my daughter, as both her and yer parents wished is best for this area and our clans. We must keep the Scottish bloods in the highlands pure. ’Tis a good match with Elspeth,” she said, her tone cajoling. “Ye’ll see. In time ye’ll learn to love her.”
Brice didn’t want to learn to do anything, certainly not how to love someone. What a cold, unfeeling marriage he would have if that were the case.
Damn his idiot younger self for promising such a thing to his parents. It would be a mistake he would live with for the rest of his life.
Lady Brodie stood, starting toward the door like a warrior facing battle.
“Lady Brodie,” he called out, halting her steps. She turned, facing him. “Dinna be rude to Miss Grant again. Ye may hail from Clan Brodie, which has been our closest ally for hundreds of years, but I’ll not have any guest under my roof shamed simply because she’s walked into a situation not of her making.” He gave her ladyship a pointed stare. “Do ye understand?”
She gave one sharp nod. “Understood, so long as ye understand as well.”
“I do,” he said, watching the door close behind her ladyship and close on any hope he harbored that his future could be different than what had been planned.
Sophie secluded herself up on the tower roof with the book on Scottish clans and looked at who Clan Mackintosh had married over the years. All she could find were other clan names, and information. It seemed Clan Mackintosh only married Scots and never the English, never a Sassenach from over the border.
She placed it down on the small blanket she sat upon and glanced out over the lands. Lady Brodie hated her. It was an undisputed fact and no matter how much Elizabeth and Elspeth tried to dismiss her notion, Sophie knew it to be true.
But why?
That was the question she was asking herself. Why would anyone take an instant dislike of someone unless they were threatened by them? She brought her knees up against her chest and leaned on them. Maybe what Gretel had been saying was true. The two families were meant to join through the marriage of Brice and Elspeth.
Not that that made any sense, for Elspeth showed very little interest in Brice, she showed Sophie more notice than him. Brice certainly liked the woman, but there was no chemistry between the two. Not that she’d ever seen.
She sighed. She would have to talk to Brice and listen to what he said. She should not have been kissing him if he were betrothed to another. Not that she thought that he was. He would not act so shamelessly.
“I’ve been looking all over the house for ye, lass. Are ye all right? I’m sorry about Lady Brodie. She can be hard toward strangers and, well, English ones more than most.”
Sophie glanced at him, not moving from her position. “She doesn’t like me, which is fine.”
Ask him Sophie. Ask him now.
But how could she ask him something so personal? She shut her eyes, willing herself to be strong.
Brice came and sat beside her, leaning back against the stone wall. “The last week that ye have been here has been one of the best weeks of my life. I’ll miss ye when ye go.”
Go? So he expected her to leave still. She could not ask him now what was between him and Elspeth. How could
she when he certainly saw no future with her?
Pain tore through her chest at the thought of leaving him. Of returning home and not seeing his wickedly handsome and teasing face across the table each morning where he’d wink and grin and make her smile.
“I will miss you too.” She would not lie. She would miss him. Terribly so. “I think it’s best that I leave as soon as the letter from Jean arrives. I have doubts that she’ll come, but I hope you won’t mind if she does.”
He shook his head, reaching out to take her hand. His warm, gloveless fingers ran over her flesh and shot goosebumps across her skin. “Nay, ye are both welcome, for as long as ye like.”
If only that were true… Sophie sat back and stared at nothing in particular, her mind a whirr of thoughts of wants and means.
He clasped her jaw and turned her to face him. She lost herself in the dark-green depths of his eyes full of longing that she too could acknowledge. Not willing to leave without experiencing what it would be like to have someone whom you loved, Sophie closed the space between them and kissed him.
It was a gamble, a risk, but she could not leave without having this just once more.
He met her halfway, taking her lips in a kiss that made her toes curl in her silk slippers. She reached up, clasping his shoulders and kissed him back with as much passion as he. His lips moved across hers, took and played with her mouth until she did not know what to do or what she wanted.
Well, she knew what she wanted. She wanted Brice.
He broke the kiss, standing and pulling her up with him. He didn’t say a word and she did not ask him, for deep down she knew where he was going. They climbed back down the tower stairs, entered the passage that ran along his side of the house and walked toward his chambers.
Nerves fluttered in her stomach and she clasped her abdomen, unsure suddenly if she were ready for this. He stopped at the door and turned to face her. Sophie read the question in his eyes and determination straightened her spine. She reached past him and opened the door, swinging it wide before pushing against his chest and walking him backward into the room.