Scandal with a Sinful Scot

by Karyn Gerrard

  “Staring at my sporran? Vixen.” He winked teasingly.

  “Is that what the purse contraption is called, or are you referring to another appendage?” Abbie winked in return.

  Garrett threw back his head and laughed. Tears clustered on her eyelashes, for she had not heard his masculine, full-throated laughter since they first met all those years ago. This is the Garrett she fell in love with upon first meeting. This is the Garrett she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Abbie would do all she could to see this lighthearted, happy man enjoy life, embrace love, and not become lost in the gloom of the curse ever again.

  Her earlier conversation with Megan replayed in her mind. What was between her and Garrett was chaotic, passionate, invigorating, and because of it she must remain vigilant. Be open to the emotions swirling between them, but not allow herself to plunge headlong into this desire as she had all those years past. For she was scared witless that he would break her heart again. If he did, Abbie knew, this time she would never recover.

  Chapter 12

  Once Garrett saw to the business of the stables, giving instructions to the head groom and the stable lads, he headed to the Eaton residence. His father and brother had already departed for Carrbury, taking the landau carriage, William, the coach driver; the earl’s valet; and Thomas, the footman.

  Riordan and Sabrina were renting a townhouse instead of staying in the small cottage supplied by the education board. Since his true name was known now, Riordan wanted to give his bride a comfortable residence, and one large enough to accommodate her friend, Mary Tuttle, and any family that may visit. Riordan had also borrowed a maid and one of the cook’s assistants from Wollstonecraft Hall until the end of June.

  Instead of walking, he tasked one of the stable lads to drive him in the brougham. It gave him time to gather his thoughts. While a weight had been lifted from him in agreeing to place the curse aside, a part of him acknowledged that it still lurked in the background, ready to push its way to the forefront at the first sign of any hint of a tragic event. It had ruled his life for decades, firmly entrenched in the very fiber of his being. It was not easily dismissed.

  But he was willing to take another path. Abbie was worth it. If only he had been adult enough fourteen years ago to see it. Now with Megan in the picture…a daughter. His heart ached when he looked at the young girl. In his initial observances both of them were evident in her, physically and personality-wise. His heart ached for the fact that his daughter acted awkward around him, yet he could hardly blame her. Finding out her beloved late papa was not actually her father would be a shock. It would tear anyone’s life to shreds.

  Garrett was envious of a dead man. For the years that he’d lived with and loved Abbie and Megan. Thankfully, by all accounts the doctor had been a kind and devoted man. Her arranged marriage could have turned out as horrific as Sabrina’s. But enough ruminating on the past. The future lay before him, and he remained determined to embrace it all. A fresh start, as Abbie claimed.

  The carriage pulled up by the front entrance and Garrett immediately exited. “Samuel, head to the kitchen and I’m sure Mrs. Claxton will fix you with a warm drink.”

  The young man touched his forelock. “Thank you, sir.”

  Garrett knocked and Alberta answered. “Mr. Garrett Wollstonecraft calling on Mrs. Abigail Hughes.”

  Alberta smiled. “Come in, sir. Everyone is in the parlor. You arrived in time for afternoon tea.” After removing his cloak and gloves and handing them to the housekeeper, he entered the room, carrying the box he’d brought with him. Once he exchanged pleasantries, he opened it and handed Abbie a bouquet. “For you, Mrs. Hughes. You stated you wished to be courted.”

  Her face lit up, and it caused his heart to skip a beat. “Cape heaths? From your greenhouse?”

  “Yes. Hope you like the color combination.” They were blue and purple.

  “I love them, thank you.” Her voice trembled with emotion, and his insides warmed at pleasing her.

  “I made an early morning expedition to Sevenoaks and stopped by the sweet shop. First for Megan; I do hope she enjoys chocolates.” He passed her the small wrapped box. “Mostly buttercreams and orange fillings.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Wollstonecraft.” She gave him a brief, genuine smile that arrowed straight to his heart. He’d bring his daughter chocolate every day in order to bask in the kindness of her smile.

  “And I did not forget you, Jonas.” He passed the young man a decorative bag tied with a ribbon.

  Jonas opened it and peered inside. “Humbugs! Thank you, Garrett.” He tossed one of the hard candies in his mouth.

  “Alberta, I hope you are partial to chocolate peppermints.” Alberta took the box he held out to her.

  “I am, thank you. My goodness, it appears you are courting all of us.”

  He laughed as he held a larger box to Abbie. “This is for you, Abbie. An assortment of sugar-coated nuts, lemon drops, and hand-dipped chocolates with various fruit fillings.” The large, silk-covered box had cost a pretty penny, but Abbie was worth it—and more.

  “We should leave you two alone,” Alberta offered.

  “No need. I thought Abbie and I would take a ride in the carriage. Would you be up to a short jaunt?”

  “I would. Heavens! Candies, flowers, and now a ride in your carriage. You are courting me. I could not be more pleased,” Abbie replied, her cheeks flushing attractively.

  “Excellent. Then perhaps tomorrow you, Megan, and I could journey to Sevenoaks for the afternoon? There are a couple of shops to explore and a lovely tearoom.”

  Abbie looked to her daughter. “Megan?”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  Not overly enthusiastic, but not quite as cool as past encounters. He would take the small victories when and where he could acquire them. “Then we shall. Now, Abbie, if you will fetch your cloak. There are warming bricks in the carriage, along with woolen throws to ensure you stay comfortable.”

  Alberta stood. “I will arrange the flowers in a vase while you are gone.”

  “Alberta, if you could ask Samuel to return to the carriage? He is in your kitchen. If he’s not done with his warm drink, tell him to bring it along.”

  “I will. Come with me, Jonas, Megan.”

  He found himself alone in the parlor, pleased that his gifts had been appreciated. Now to see if Abbie would be agreeable to his next surprise.

  Once bundled in the small carriage, Garrett knocked on the roof, then gathered the throw and placed it across their laps. “January does not translate well to courting. If it were summer, there would be other options, like taking in a Sunday afternoon concert at the bandstand in town. Cricket matches, teas, picnics, and other socials. We will have to make do. The warming bricks are at your feet. At least the sun is out and offering a modicum of warmth.”

  “This is quite exciting. Where are we heading?”

  He laid a gentle kiss on her lips. “Around the perimeter of the Wollstonecraft property, then beyond. However long you wish to be cuddled up with me in this small carriage.”

  Abbie laughed. “There isn’t much room, but I adore cuddling.”

  “See? I am learning new things about you already. The getting-to-know-you part, as you suggested.” He sobered. “I would also like to know more about the man who raised my daughter. The man who held your affection. Tell me about your past.”

  “He did hold my affection. Elwyn was also my dear friend.” Her eyes sparkled as she spoke of him, and Garrett experienced a stab of envy. “He was of average height and build. A pleasant-looking man with a ready smile and twinkling brown eyes. His patient and kind personality served him well as a physician. He was much loved and admired. He knew my father through the army; Elwyn was a young medic. They became friends, and after the war in Spain my father moved to Brighton and Elwyn took a position at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital in London.”r />
  Abbie smiled, seemingly happy to talk of her late husband. “It was there he first came across those with addictions, and it moved him greatly. So much he decided to start his own clinic. He wanted to place it in a serene setting, and Hertfordshire proved to be ideal. Also, it was far enough from London to ensure privacy. He used a large portion of his own money to start it, and many high-profile clients funded further expansions and renovations. It left little time for socialization or finding a wife, so when my father contacted him… Well, he thought the marriage would benefit us both.

  “It did,” Abbie continued in a soft voice. “He took a broken-hearted girl expecting a child and welcomed me into his life and home. He never spoke down to me. Instead, he included me in all aspects of his professional life. Elwyn treated me as his partner. He was also gentle and patient and did not rush me into consummating our marriage. And when Megan was born, he couldn’t have been more proud or loving. You may rest assured that he loved her with every part of his generous heart.”

  A damned saint. Garrett grudgingly had to admit the man merited praise. “I am glad and gratified that Dr. Hughes proved to be exactly what you and Megan needed and deserved. It is to my everlasting shame that I cannot say with certainty I would have been at age eighteen. As you stated, I was self-centered. Perhaps I still am, for I am far from perfect.”

  “I don’t require you to be perfect, Garrett. I never have. I adore you the way you are. Believe me, Elwyn was not perfect; there were times he annoyed me and I him, I imagine. He was untidy, leaving piles of clothes and papers throughout the house. He was also a picky eater. But those quirks of his personality merely made him human. Real.”

  “Why didn’t you have children?”

  Abbie sighed wistfully. “We tried, and seeing as I had Megan, Elwyn came to the conclusion that the fact that I had not conceived lay with him. In typical fashion, he did not allow it to make him bitter or sad. Instead, he cherished Megan all the more.”

  Garrett took her hand and kissed it. “Thank you for telling me about him. I’m pleased that Elwyn was there for you both, but I am entirely envious. Which makes me human. Real.”

  She leaned against his shoulder. “Oh, yes. You are very real.”

  “Perhaps you will tell me more about yourself while we ride.”

  “What do you wish to know?” Abbie asked.

  He slowly removed her glove with his teeth and let it drop to the floor of the carriage. Then he took her hand. “Your favorite music, books; do you like to dance? What is your favorite color, dessert?” He stroked the pulse point of her wrist with his thumb. “What is your favorite position for sex? I recall you particularly enjoyed being on top and riding me like Boudicca heading into battle.”

  There was the attractive blush to her cheeks again. “Oh, you wicked, sinful Scot,” she murmured sensually.

  “Scot? I suppose I am in many ways.” He kissed her hand. “I certainly look the part.”

  “Especially last night. Oh, Garrett, you were glorious, absolutely splendid in your mother’s tartan. As I said, you must wear it more often. Even if for me alone.”

  “Aye, lassie. The kilt and nothing else. Och, but ye are a demanding wench.” He mimicked his grandfather Mackinnon.

  Her eyelashes fluttered. “And you must speak to me with that exact accent when you wear the kilt. Special occasion. Not every time we…we…”

  “Make love?”

  “Yes. Oh, what is this place?” Abbie pointed out the window as the carriage slowed and came to a stop.

  “This was a hunter’s hut from my great-grandfather’s time. It’s in remarkable condition, as my own grandfather and father kept it in minimal repair even though none of us hunt. I hired a few of the tenants in need of work to ensure the place is in tip-top shape: the fireplace working, the walls, roof, and floor sturdy. I told them that I wished to have a private area to write, so new furniture will be moved in this afternoon. This will be our place, Abbie.”

  He took her hand and kissed it. “I will meet you at the rear entrance of the Eatons’ residence at the stroke of midnight, and we will ride here on Patriot for a stolen hour or two. If you are amenable.” Hell, say yes. End my torment.

  “This is entirely outrageous. You are proposing an affair?”

  “Yes, a surreptitious one, as we court and come to know one another. As we move forward, we will need to discuss what the future holds. For I want a life with you Abbie, and my daughter. If you do not foresee one with me, tell me now, and we will progress no further.” Christ, his insides were in knots.

  “I did not come here looking for this, not really. Or perhaps I did,” she demurred. “Yes, Garrett, I yearn to explore and see what the future holds.” Abbie paused, then gave him a shy smile. “I will not deny us showing how much we yearn for each other.”

  He gathered her in his embrace and kissed her hard. As always, it turned fierce, then gentled, until they were playfully nibbling on each other’s lower lips. “Do tell. Your favorite music, books, do you like to dance? What is your favorite color, dessert?”

  “I adore Mozart,” Abbie whispered. “Books by Dickens and nonfiction books of English history. I haven’t had much opportunity to dance; I long to learn the waltz. I adore all shades of purple, hence the reason I loved the flowers you brought me, and I am mad for multitiered cakes slathered in sweet butter frosting, along with scones with whipped cream and strawberry jam.”

  Garrett laughed. “At the tearoom tomorrow, I will ensure we order cake and scones.” He nuzzled her neck. “I will teach you the waltz. Though I haven’t attended many balls through the years, that is one dance I do know.” Reluctantly he released her, but Abbie slipped her arm through his and cuddled in close, laying her head on his shoulder again. He banged the roof of the carriage and it moved forward.

  Having her close like this, he would make damned sure they stayed out for the entire afternoon. Never had he felt as happy and content as he did at this moment.

  * * * *

  At five minutes before midnight, Abbie stealthily made her way to the rear entrance of Alberta’s home. It was utterly exciting to be meeting Garrett secretly like this. She gathered her wool cloak about her neck as she stood in the doorway. For a brief moment, doubt overcame her feelings of exhilaration. What happened to her conviction of remaining discreet, even judicious with her emotions? No matter what happened tonight, she must cling to her vow of remaining cautious. It was her only defense against being hurt once again.

  Earlier today she had said to Garrett, “I did not come here looking for this, not really.” But to be honest, deep down she ached for it. In the years that she’d been married to Elwyn, she’d never stopped loving Garrett. Because of it, she had not been free to give her heart to her kind and thoughtful husband.

  The decision she’d made years past, of not revealing who the father was, had affected far more lives than her own. Garrett’s and Megan’s. Garrett’s family. Her own parents, instead of supporting her, all but cut her from their lives. Their initial rejection had hurt. But Abbie took solace in knowing her life with Elwyn had given her the peace and contentment she needed. A chill curled about her heart. How selfish she’d been, but what other options did she have pregnant at eighteen?

  Abbie had decided it would be prudent to settle on an approximate date of departure. This visit could not continue forever, even though Alberta encouraged her and Megan to stay until the middle of February. Winter travel was tedious, but more than anything, Abbie felt she must set boundaries that aligned with her oath of vigilance as far as Garrett was concerned.

  The unmistakable sound of thundering horses’ hooves brought her out of her diverse thoughts. No more regrets. The past lay behind her, and all that Abbie wanted was to live for today and guardedly look to the future. Garrett’s silhouette took shape as he came into view. The moon’s illumination cast him in shadow, and with his greatcoat bill
owing behind him he had the appearance of a mysterious highwayman. Pulling up on the reins, Patriot halted before the entrance, snorting and whickering. Abbie closed the door behind her as gently as she could.

  Garrett outstretched his arm and she reached up and clasped it. With a smooth motion, as if she weighed nothing at all, he pulled her up behind him and she slipped her arms about his slim waist. “Hold on,” he said. Clicking his tongue twice, he sunk his heels into Patriot’s flanks and the stallion set off at a gallop.

  The wind whipped about them, and Abbie’s heart hammered with excitement, not only for being nestled against Garrett’s tall, imposing frame, but because of the speed of the horse. This would be her life with Garrett: exhilaration, passion, and endless love. With her eyes burning with unshed tears, she laid her head against his back and held him tighter, never wanting to let go.

  They arrived at the hunter’s hut in mere minutes. Garrett slid off Patriot, then held out his arms. Clasping her about the waist, he held her aloft and slowly allowed her to descend along his body. Sparks ignited everywhere they touched. With a wicked smile he released her, then tied the reins to a tree, giving Patriot an affectionate pat on the neck. “Shall we go inside?” he asked.

  Abbie nodded as Garrett opened the door. The tiny stone hut, complete with rough-hewn wood beams, was cozy and warm, as a fire blazed in the hearth. She stepped across the threshold. Garrett followed her in and closed the door behind him. In a swift motion he removed his coat and gloves, tossing them to the nearby armchair. Then he assisted her in removing her cloak.

  A large chaise longue, decorated with a quilt and pillows, stood against the far wall. It certainly appeared able to accommodate the both of them. Along the opposite wall were a writing desk, a chair, and a cabinet. Above the desk, there was a shelf with various books. A pile of chopped logs sat by the hearth. “I admit it is rustic.”