Scandal with a Sinful Scot

by Karyn Gerrard

  “Concerning Jonas, from what I heard, you were wonderful. And how very frank you were in your descriptions.” Alberta winked good-naturedly.

  She teased him and he loved it. With a crooked grin he stood and gathered her up in his arms. “All the talk about kissing and desire has had its effect on me. I have not kissed you yet. I mean to correct that.” He rested his forehead against hers. “A proper kiss.”

  “Kiss me then,” Alberta whispered.

  Gently grasping the sides of her head, he stared into her glorious golden-brown eyes. Slowly, he leaned in, making the anticipation flare between them. He nibbled on her lush lips, then took it deeper, taking complete ownership of her mouth. Alberta kissed him in return, tangling her tongue with his.

  How gratifying to react this swiftly to a devastating kiss at his age. At forty-five, he had a number of good years left; why not embrace everything life had to offer? Encircling Alberta’s waist, he brought her in tight against him. Against his stiff and aching prick.

  She replied with a moan, which heightened his desire to a level of wild fierceness he’d not experienced in years. “Julian,” she whispered against his mouth as he trailed hot, fevered kisses down her neck.

  Reluctantly, he ended it by cupping her flushed cheeks and gazing into her eyes. “I’d better have that brandy,” he rasped.

  “Brandy?” She smiled. “Of course.” Alberta left his arms and walked toward the sideboard. He felt her absence keenly.

  This had moved beyond a flirtation with an attractive neighbor. How far he wished it to advance was another question entirely. Julian understood Garrett’s reluctance. Hell, he’d lived it, and he never wanted to live through burying a woman he loved ever again. At least, not before reaching old age. Logic dictated that he walk away from what was developing between him and Alberta. But when did logic ever enter into emotions?

  Caution was needed. To keep his emotions tightly reined.

  Easier said than done.

  Chapter 9

  Later that night, Garrett paced about his room. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in more than two weeks. There were a number of reasons: one was finding out he had a daughter. To discover her kissing a man with decided enthusiasm was a swift kick to his guts. Megan stood on the cusp of womanhood, and Garrett had missed so much of her life. It put him in a somber mood, mourning the time he had lost.

  His talk with Jonas had made him realize that the young man was passionate and intuitive about the world around him. He had come to know Jonas better the past several weeks, while he’d been supervising the improvements about the small Eaton manor house. Perhaps he should include Jonas more in the planning of repairs. Though he may be slow, Jonas did possess an innate intelligence that could be channeled into something worthwhile. The young lad had mentioned an occupation. He would give it serious thought.

  His reflections turned to Abbie. Bad enough she had haunted his dreams all these years, drifting around the corners of his subconscious, tormenting him with heated memories of their youthful affair. But to have her down the hall was more than he could bear. How tempting it would be to march to her room, kick the door in, and make love to her until she writhed and cried out his name. Lick and taste every inch of her silky, sweet skin. No other woman had ever affected him in such a stark way. If he allowed this attraction between them to go further… Could he push her from his life once again? How could he with Megan in the picture?

  Garrett stalked to the sideboard and poured himself a scotch, the family Mackinnon’s own special single malt. His rooms were laid out much like a large flat, with the front section serving as a combination library-study. Through to the rear were his large bedroom, dressing room, and bathing room. He had a custom-made copper tub built to accommodate his large frame. Water pipes had been installed two years past, eliminating the need for servants to fill the tub, so he indulged in a daily soak, especially after working in the stables all day. The rooms garnered him the privacy he desired. All of the men of Wollstonecraft Hall had similar floor plans in their respective wings.

  After slumping into his leather wingchair, he stared moodily into the fire as he sipped his whiskey. His muddled emotions brought their first meeting to the forefront. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and was drawn away somewhere in time. He was riding the horse he had owned before Patriot, a black stallion called Midnight Thunder. He had come upon Abbie on one of the numerous horse paths meandering through and around the estate.

  Garrett brought Thunder’s reins up short and called out, “Whoa.” Everything around him came to a complete standstill. Before him stood the most beautiful creature that he had ever laid eyes on. Could it be a fairy princess from another realm?

  It was a young lady wearing a lavender walking dress. She wore no hat or gloves, but he couldn’t blame her, as the air was hot and humid. She carried a small matching parasol, but did not use it to keep the sun off her face. Instead, she seemed to be enjoying soaking up the rays.

  The lilac shade of her gown enhanced her porcelain skin and glossy black hair, which was piled high on her head; a couple of loose strands framed her glowing, lovely face. The surrounding countryside faded away, leaving only…her. She was all that existed for him. Garrett’s heart pounded with a fierce beat, the blood rushing to his ears.

  “Hello,” she said. “You have a beautiful horse.” She shaded her eyes from the sun as she looked up at him. “And I must say that you are beautiful as well.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. Bold minx. He gave her a wicked smile as he slid off Thunder. “I am Garrett Wollstonecraft.”

  “I hope you don’t mind me perambulating about your property. I am staying with Sir Walter Keenan, your neighbor. His niece is a dear friend of mine.” The young lady returned his smile. “We arrived yesterday and are here for most of the summer.” She held out her right hand. “I am Abigail Wharton. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Wollstonecraft.”

  Her voice was light and musical, as if someone were clinking crystal champagne glasses together. The enticing sound caused shivers to run along his spine and his breath to catch. Taking her hand, he bent over it, somewhat awkwardly. He wasn’t used to the falderal of parlor manners. He’d only attended one ball, in London, and he had spent most of the evening in the card room. “And you, Miss Wharton.” His voice sounded husky to his own ears. It was as if he’d been hit by a bolt of lightning. He dropped her hand a little too quickly and took a step in reverse.

  “Will you walk about with me, show me your property?” she asked politely.

  What an audacious female. Not only speaking her mind, but daringly meeting his gaze. Weren’t young ladies supposed to giggle and avoid eye contact with men, instead batting their eyelashes coquettishly? Not this one, and he liked it. More than liked it, for he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. “If you like.”

  “Oh, dear. I am about to do something entirely scandalous.” She stepped before him, rose on the tips of her toes…and kissed him. The suddenness of it shocked him to the heels of his dusty boots. Then came the sensations that followed: the softness of her lips, her evocative scent of wildflowers, fresh air, and sunshine. If sunshine even had a scent. Dropping the parasol, she rested her hands against his chest. Since he was riding about his own property and because of the warm weather, he only wore breeches, tall boots, and a billowy white shirt open partway down his chest.

  When her hands made contact with his bare skin it seared his flesh, and he dropped the reins and riding crop and pulled her into his embrace. Already aroused, his cock stiffened to the point of pain. Garrett deepened the kiss and she gasped, opening her mouth enough that he could slip his tongue into it. The taste of her made him moan. Every part of him sizzled from her heat. More…he needed more…

  Soft rapping at his door brought him out of his dreamlike state. Bloody hell, he was aroused. Scrubbing his face with his hand, he glanced at the mantel clock. Past midnight,
who in hell… No. She. Wouldn’t. Dare.

  Garrett was shirtless, his trousers undone and riding low on his hips. He shot to his bare feet and slammed his glass on the nearby table. Whoever knocked at his door past midnight deserved to be traumatized by his appearance. He marched to the door and pulled it open.

  Abbie.

  God, she was gorgeous, still the fairy princess from another realm. She wore a sheer pink nightgown and matching wrapper, with pink fur trim about the neckline and the cuffs. He glanced down. Her small feet peeked out from under her ensemble. Slowly he trailed his gaze across her tempting curves. Giving birth to Megan had only enhanced her lush figure. “Abbie, what…”

  She pushed past him and entered his room. Exhaling, he closed the door.

  Abbie spun about to face him. “You asked me a question when we were out riding. I never replied.”

  “You don’t have to tonight, perhaps—”

  She nodded briskly. “Yes, I do. Who can sleep?” Abbie’s heated gaze slid across his torso. “Lord, you are a finely put-together man. The years have made you more enticing and attractive, blast you. I have never been this forthright and outspoken with anyone but you.”

  “I was thinking of our first encounter when you knocked.”

  A shy smile curved about Abbie’s lips. “Yes. I acted boldly from the beginning. I said that you were beautiful. We exchanged a couple of sentences and suddenly I was kissing you. And finding myself overwhelmed by your embrace.”

  Garrett stepped closer. “We were drawn toward each other.”

  Abbie nodded. “Always. The answer to the question that you asked this afternoon is… Yes, I want you. I never stopped.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand. “I deluded myself into thinking I had safely hid away what we’d shared. As soon as I saw you in Standon it all flooded to the surface. I couldn’t pretend any longer. I realized that it was well past time to inform you about Megan.”

  Clasping her hands in front of her, she met his gaze. “We have both apologized. As you said, there are scars on both sides. We will carry them for the rest of our lives. But I wish more than anything for the healing to begin in earnest.”

  “Abbie, you…”

  “This is far more intense than I thought it would be,” she whispered, interrupting him again. “My first instinct is to flee to my small house and hide. Forget it all. But I cannot.” Abbie stepped closer and laid her hands flat against his bare chest as she’d done during their first meeting. His skin burned from her touch, and because of it, he couldn’t stop the husky moan from leaving his throat.

  “Though I want you, I yearn more for a fresh start. But we can only accomplish that if we place the past and all its scars behind us.” Her words were direct and honest, just as he remembered. Abbie tunneled her fingers through his thatch of ginger chest hair and he moaned again. “Which means that you must leave the curse behind you. It has ruled your life for far too long.” He stiffened at her statement. “Do not get your bristles up or allow your temper to say something you may regret.”

  “As I have in the past, you mean?” His brows furrowed. “I pushed you away because I was genuinely concerned for your safety. Hell, I still am. I would do anything to protect you.”

  “To the detriment of our young hearts.” Abbie glared at him, her mouth twisted in disapproval. “I waited three long weeks for you to show up at my door; I told you more than once that I lived in Brighton. I sat on our porch for days, waiting like a fool. You never came.” Her lower lip trembled. “You didn’t love me enough to ride in and claim me. I cursed you, for how could you do such a thing to us? Deliver such a mortal blow to our love?”

  Her voice trembled, and Garrett’s heart squeezed at hearing the raw emotion in her words. “Then to discover that I was with child…I felt all at sea. Completely lost and alone. You had truly abandoned me. I had no choice but to inform my parents of my condition. At that exact moment, mired in despair, it struck me. I left. I did not stay and fight for our love. The blame did not all lay at your feet. Then I thought perhaps it was never meant to be. Perhaps I did not love you as deeply as I believed.”

  She exhaled shakily. “To lessen the aching pain, I convinced myself that what lay between us was nothing more than base lust. With the decision made, I went to my parents, then, shortly thereafter, agreed to the marriage and promptly put you out of my mind.” Abbie laid her head on his chest and he slipped his arms around her, bringing her in tight against him. “But not out of my heart. No matter how much I denied it to myself and to my husband, Elwyn knew the truth. Despite it all, I loved you still.”

  Garrett smoothed her hair. “Loved? Past tense?”

  “Do not ask me to try and sort through my emotions in that regard. Not tonight.”

  “Fair enough. But hear this truth from me: I deeply regret that I did not come and claim you. It is a regret I will carry all the days of my life. Could you truly find it in your generous and brave heart to forgive me? Perhaps we can salvage something consequential from this youthful wreckage.”

  She sighed. “Not if you insist on placing the curse between us as a shield. If you cannot commit to me or love me with your entire heart and soul, then I do not want you at all. I won’t settle for any less. Elwyn taught me that much.”

  He remained silent, taking in all that she had revealed. Abbie, as always, spoke from her heart. She deserved the same from him.

  “Truly, Garrett. I don’t deny your family, past and present, has suffered wrenching personal tragedies. But we cannot allow it to keep us apart any longer,” she continued. “Nothing has happened to Megan or me. Perhaps the curse is broken at long last. Perhaps…our love was true. Isn’t it the requirement for breaking the curse?” she murmured.

  “Supposedly, true love breaks it, but there is no unequivocal proof one way or another.” Could she be correct? It would go against everything that he believed in. “I watched my stepmother die horribly. She literally rotted away from a childbed infection before our eyes. Three weeks later, my infant sister gasped her last. At ten years of age, I swore never to let anyone close. But you burrowed into my heart and soul regardless. You hold them both captive. Even after all these years.”

  He continued to smooth her hair as he spoke. “My sister-in-law, Fiona, languished of a heart infection for months, turning into a ghostly figure I did not recognize. My mother, whose memory I tried desperately to cling to but it faded from my recall anyway. Cancer ate at her until I was no longer allowed into her room. My earliest memory I have is of them lowering a casket into a dark grave. I was four.

  “Death and mourning were the sum of my childhood. Watching how broken Julian was, how hurt. Thankfully, the twins kept the worst of the sorrow at bay. They livened up the house and brought us all out of misery. But I vowed, then and there, that no one would own my heart or break it, because I would refuse to love any woman.” He laughed cynically. “It was all for naught.”

  He clasped the sides of her head, forcing her to look at him. She met his gaze with unshed tears gathering on her long lashes. “From the moment I saw you on the trail all those years ago, I knew you would shatter my plans to stay detached and removed from emotion. From love. I foolishly thought that we could enjoy a brief assignation and go our separate ways. God, I am an idiot.” He kissed her forehead. “I denied what was happening. Refused to accept what my heart told me. I believed that the only solution was to be malicious enough that you would never wish to see me again. It worked better than I had hoped. And it shattered me.”

  “I am truly sorry for your childhood losses. I understand better why you believe in the curse as deeply as you do, but to let it come between us.” She gazed up at him. “We did not speak like this in the past.”

  Garrett smoothed her hair once again. It was as soft as spun midnight silk. “There was not much opportunity for speaking. We used our bodies to communicate more than anything
.”

  “May we talk? Here?” Her look was eager and hopeful and he didn’t have the heart to refuse her. “I wish us to become acquainted. The people we are now.”

  He nodded, then stepped away from her and motioned to his sideboard. “Would you care for a drink? I have Mackinnon single malt, my mother’s family’s own scotch.”

  “Yes.” Abbie curled up in one of the wingchairs before the hearth. Once he poured the drinks in crystal tumblers, he handed her one and sat opposite. “Tell me about your wild streak in your twenties.”

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “How in hell did you hear about that?”

  “Sir Walter was a hermit, but he did enjoy sharing gossip in his correspondence with Alberta. She told me the other day. I am curious.”

  “And what of your past?”

  “Let us speak of you for the remainder of the night.”

  Garrett curled his lip and took a long draw on his scotch, clenching his teeth as the burn trailed down his throat. A brief dissolute episode in his life and she honed in on it. “I could blame Aidan, for even at sixteen he was rather naughty. He confided in me that he lost his virginity the year before at The Crimson Club. It is a place in London that the men in my family like to frequent on occasion. It is a tasteful and respected brothel.”

  “Did you lose your virginity there as well? Is it a rite of passage for the men of your family?” she asked, her tone curious.

  “Since you wish to discuss my secrets, here is one I have shared with no one: I lost my virginity…to you. There was no other young lady before you.” Garrett gave her a heated gaze. “Emotionally speaking, there has been no woman after you. The encounters meant nothing.”

  “Oh, my,” she murmured. “I am rather shocked about your virginity. I assumed most sons of peers indulged as young as Aidan. Forgive me for feeling rather satisfied at the fact I was your first, and pleased that the only encounter that meant anything…was ours.” She sipped her scotch. “However, I was not your last. Hence the adventures with your nephew. Do tell.”