“How wonderful,” Megan said. “And you, sir?”
He and Abbie locked gazes. “I recently found a worthy cause in the medical field. Treatment of addiction.”
Megan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, my, like Papa used to do. Dr. Bevan is continuing his work.”
“Yes. I’m toying with the idea of setting up a grant for young doctors to train in this field, eventually leading to funding sanatoriums similar to the one…your father ran.” Garrett nearly choked on the word “father,” but Dr. Hughes had brought her up. “My nephew, Aidan, will join me in this venture, I’m sure.”
“I believe he will,” Abbie replied softly.
“I have a cause,” Megan announced. “I believe people like Jonas, who are challenged either physically or intellectually, should have a safe haven if they have no family to care for them. The asylums are not the place for those with special needs.”
Garrett felt a surge of pride at Megan’s statement. “Then we shall see it done. I will raise the subject at our next family meeting.”
Satisfied, Megan began to eat her cake. A smudge of frosting dotted the tip of her nose, and Garrett gently brushed it away with the tip of his finger. At least she didn’t shrink from his touch. She giggled when he showed her the evidence.
They conversed pleasantly, and Garrett could not remember when he had spent such an enjoyable afternoon. Finally, his daughter appeared to be warming toward him, at least a little.
“Megan and I have decided on a date to return to Standon,” Abbie stated. “We discussed it this morning.”
Frustration, tinged with sadness, speared him, though he fought showing it. So much for the lovely afternoon. “Oh?”
“Next Monday, the twenty-sixth.”
Less than six days. Blast it all, he hurt inside. Garrett took a bite of his scone and did not reply.
His disappointment must have been obvious, for Abbie said, “Alberta and Jonas have their own lives. As do we, as I’ve explained earlier. Megan must return to school. Do you think your father and brother will return home by Monday next? We certainly do not wish to leave without saying goodbye.”
“They will return in a day or two. By Sunday at the very latest,” he replied gruffly.
“Wonderful. Megan has something to ask you.”
He looked to his daughter, and she met his inquiring gaze shyly. “I hope, well, both of us hope, you will come for a visit. Perhaps you can even return with us to Standon. I know it is a lot to ask on short notice.”
Garrett had the distinct feeling that Abbie had put their daughter up to this, but found he didn’t mind. In fact, he was touched by her suggestion. She may have even meant it, which helped alleviate the gloom overtaking his mood. “Thank you. I will be visiting, you may count on it. If I’m not able to return with you, it will be shortly thereafter. I will stay at the George Inn.”
“I thought you would stay with us,” Megan said.
Abbie laid a hand on her arm. “My dear, for propriety’s sake, it is best Garrett stay at the inn.”
“Yes, I suppose—”
“Mr. Wollstonecraft?”
The three of them turned toward a young messenger carrying a satchel across his shoulder. “Your butler said I could find you here in town, sir.” He passed Garrett an envelope. “From Scotland, sir. Important. The butler said for me to bring it to you with all haste.”
Garrett reached in his pocket and gave the lad a shilling. Hell. A feeling of foreboding took root. He broke the seal and pulled out the officious-looking paper. From his grandfather’s solicitor.
I regret to inform you that Alec Roderick Mackinnon died January the tenth. Allow me to offer my sincerest condolences. As per his request, your grandfather will not be buried until the snows melt, as travel would be impossible for you at this time. Please inform me at your earliest possible convenience of when you will travel to Edinburgh, and we will make arrangements for his interment and the settling of his estate.
Garrett didn’t bother with the rest. Damn it all. He swallowed hard as tears formed on his lashes; he refused to show any emotion in a public place. His grief was private. With shaking hands, he placed the letter in the envelope and sat it on the table.
“My dear, what is it?” Abbie asked, worry in her tone. Try as he might to hide his emotions, she read him easily. She always could.
He cleared his throat. “My grandfather passed away. January tenth. Alec Roderick Mackinnon, age eighty-two.”
Megan touched his hand. “I am sorry, Garrett.”
A wayward tear slipped from the corner of his eye and trailed down his cheek at his daughter using his first name. He laid his large hand on top of hers. “Thank you, my sweet. I do regret that you will never meet him. He is…was…as red haired as we.”
Megan smiled, though it had a touch of sadness in it.
“Perhaps we should take our leave,” Abbie suggested.
Garrett removed his hand, but not before giving Megan’s an affectionate pat. Then he wiped the tear from his cheek. “Not at all. It was not completely unexpected, as he was eighty-two. The last letter that I received mentioned that he was not well. And when he hadn’t answered mine the past five months… Well, as I said, not unexpected.”
“But hurts nonetheless,” Abbie replied kindly.
“Yes. It bloody hurts. Sorry for the language, ladies.”
“When did you last journey to Scotland?” Megan asked.
“Five years past, when my grandmother died. Once I grew up the trips grew less frequent, but we kept up a vigorous correspondence.” Garrett sighed wistfully. “He was a large man, braw, as they say in Scotland, with a quick temper and a generous heart. A genuine twinkle in his eye. My mother was his only child. His older brother, who never married, died about ten years past. I am the only living relative in the direct line.” He nodded toward his daughter. “And Megan.”
“Goodness, you will be the sole heir,” Abbie marveled.
“Well, I won’t be inheriting a Scottish castle or pots of gold. My grandfather lived modestly; he owned a small share in Mackinnon Spirits and Liquors, based in Edinburgh. The company belongs to another branch of his family—his cousin’s, I believe.” Garrett drank some tea, savoring the warmth. A cuppa always helped in times of stress, so his grandfather claimed. “He never traveled beyond Hadrian’s Wall, not even when my mother passed, even though my father invited him more than once. He despised travel.” He raised his teacup. “I will miss him. To Alec Mackinnon.”
Megan and Abbie raised their teacups and they all took a drink. Regardless of hearing of his grandfather’s death, he would not sink into despair. It was a sunny day. He sat with the woman he loved more than his life and his lovely daughter. His grandfather used to say: “Be happy while you’re living, for you’re a long time dead.” The Scottish saying held a good deal of common sense and truth.
Time to get on with the living—and loving.
Chapter 14
When they arrived at the hunter’s hut shortly past midnight, Garrett wasted no time and gave her a passionate kiss. “I need you. I want to forget…”
“Your grief? I understand.” Abbie caressed his cheeks, trailing the tip of her finger across his prominent cheekbones. “When someone we care about dies, we need affirmation of life, in whatever form.” As she had when Elwyn passed. Instead of seeking physical contact with another man, Abbie had decided to volunteer at the sanatorium. She was eager to contribute, to play a role in her husband’s legacy. But obviously Garrett needed a more direct confirmation of life. His erection pressed insistently against her.
He spun her about until she faced the stone wall. “Forgive me, I will withdraw, I swear it.”
“Yes, all right.” Garrett pushed up the skirt of her gown, moaning when he discovered she was not wearing undergarments once again. His hand slid between her legs. Already she was wet, thrilled
at this wild, carnal side of him. Most of their past encounters were like this, rushed, frantic, feral. He kicked her legs apart and entered her with a swift, deep thrust, causing her to cry out at the sheer delight of him filling her.
Slipping an arm about her waist, he pounded into her, careful that her exposed skin did not scrape against the rough stone wall. Her feet lifted from the floor and she gasped in surprise. Garrett held her aloft, yet firmly pinned against his hard, unyielding body. As he slid in and out of her, he nuzzled her neck, whispering fiercely in her ear. “You are all I want, all I need. I love you, Abbie. Never stopped. Never will.” He uttered a rough oath as she cried out with her swift release.
Garrett’s thrusts grew wilder, and she placed a hand against the wall to steady herself. Then he left her, groaning as he lowering her to the floor. Gasping for air, Abbie turned to face him. He held one hand over his shaft. As promised, he did not come inside her. Reaching in the pocket of her skirt, she handed him a handkerchief.
“Would you?” he asked, still breathing unevenly.
Abbie moved his hand and gently wiped away the proof of his desire. It was intimate, standing this close, assisting him as their breathing returned to normal. Garrett then undressed, and did the same to her.
He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the chaise. Laying her on it, he covered her with his large body, then began to build the passion between them once again, but at an agonizing, slow pace. Garrett only stopped long enough to place the rubber condom on his stiff shaft. Once sheathed, he kissed and licked her skin, suckled her breast until she writhed and moaned under him. He threaded his fingers through hers and lifted their arms above their heads.
When he entered her, tears gathered on her lashes. It had never been this intense between them before, but when had they had the opportunity to love each other so unhurriedly? His languorous, deep thrusts urged her onward as she lifted her hips to meet him. The sounds and odors of sex filled the small hut and mingled with their moans. Abbie lost all concept of time, and lost track of how many occasions she reached her peak. His free hand rested at her hip, and Garrett started to alternate between quick plunges and deliberate slow withdrawal.
Oh, Abbie was ready to come apart. Fly to pieces. Then she did, as if she soared with the clouds. She had read such passages in books and thought them exaggerated. Then she remembered her past encounters with Garrett. No exaggeration. This one topped them all.
His release directly followed hers. He lifted his head, gritted his teeth, and all the cords in his neck pulled taut as he shuddered. “Sweet, suffering Jesus,” he groaned. Burying his face in the curve of her shoulder, he trembled and Abbie held him close to her heart. They lay like this for interminable moments, until he finally lifted from her and lay flat.
Exhaling shakily, he gathered her into his embrace. “My God.”
She sighed contentedly. “Yes, indeed. I am the most fortunate of women.”
“And I the most fortunate of men. Abbie, will you wait a few days before your departure? A week even?”
“Why?”
“I need you, I want more of…this. Besides, how can I court you if you are in Standon? You claim that you wish us to know each other better, then announce you’re leaving. What is going on? Second thoughts?” He frowned. “Or is it the caution you mentioned?”
How to explain? Her emotions had not been caught in a maelstrom like this since they were last together all those years past. It was all on her, for she was the one who’d come here to stir them up. Now she was retreating like a besieged coward. God, was she having second thoughts? Abbie snuggled in closer. No second thoughts about loving him. Abbie needed him as she needed to breathe. “Yes, a little caution. Also, there is scandal…”
“What? Scandal? What are you on about? You keep mentioning the bloody word.”
“In the eyes of society, what we did fourteen years ago is as scandalous as what we are doing here and now.”
Garrett bolted upright, staring at her as if she were off her head. Perhaps she was. “To hell with society. All that matters is us. Together. Never to part. Say you agree, Abbie. Return to Standon by all means, but know this: it is temporary.” There was an edge of anger and exasperation in his voice. “You belong with me. At my side. In my bed. Damn it all, I want us to wed and be a family with our daughter, and more children besides. I want us to share the future. You said that you wanted one with me. Have you changed your mind?”
“If I hadn’t come here, you never would have sought me out,” she accused. Bitterness unfurled inside her once again. “Let that sink in. You broke my heart. I kept waiting for a knock at the door. A letter or note. Any word. Something. But it never came. You…never came to me. I had been discarded like an old pair of boots.”
Garrett threw his arms in the air as he stood. “God above, Abbie, we’ve agreed to put the past behind us—to allow the acrimony to heal. But it never will. Not for you. Not completely.”
She rose, holding the sheet to her chin. “Perhaps it never will. Can you blame me? Which makes me traveling here on an impulse all the more troubling.” Her voice quivered with emotion. “Yes, scandal is on my mind, for I paid for it as you never have. I was alone and pregnant, rejected by my parents, beaten by my father, married to a stranger—thankfully a kind one, but a stranger regardless. I carried the brunt of it all these years. It has affected me. It still does.”
“You should have come to me,” he snapped. “The moment you discovered you were pregnant.”
“And be humiliated again? You should have come to me,” she retorted.
“Damn it all, I’ve said that I’m sorry for my youthful, immature actions. And I am truly sorry. I didn’t seek you out because I was ashamed of my cruel words and behavior. I believed that you were better off without a selfish, self-absorbed young man with a stubborn streak as long and wide as the Thames. You were better off without a superstitious man who allowed an ancient curse to rule his life. I would have made a terrible husband and father.”
She blinked rapidly, trying to stave off tears from forming. “And now you’ve changed?” she asked skeptically.
He gave a short bark of cynical laughter, then frowned. “I’m still stubborn. I like to believe that growing older and wiser has made me less selfish. And the curse? I’ll not lie, it’s still there. I believe there is merit to its existence. But I’ve decided that it will no longer rule my life. I’ve told you this, Abbie. I love you too much to set you aside again. It would destroy me more than any damnable ancient curse.” He smoothed her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “How to make you believe it? You will have to trust me. Trust, Abbie. It is holding you back. You love me, but the trust is not there. Not one hundred percent. And until it is, there can be nothing permanent between us.”
A lone tear trailed down her cheek. “I do so want to trust you. There is such a hollow feeling inside me and it’s been there for years.”
He kissed her forehead. “Since I hurt you.”
Abbie nodded, sniffling. “When I saw you in Standon, I was breathless. Stunned. Thrilled. I had to see you again. Talk to you. Touch you. All the feelings I had hidden away roared to life, and without properly thinking it through, I journeyed here. For I had to know: Was what we shared all those years ago real or merely a youthful, reckless folly? And beyond my own desires, you needed to be told of Megan. Bitterness was not a sufficient reason to keep her existence from you.”
“Allow me to declare once again: You are bold and courageous for coming here. Because you are correct. My stubborn self refused to seek you out, even though you’ve haunted me, especially in my dreams. But here we are, my love, flaws and all. Acknowledging our mistakes, our frailties, and our faults. Where do we go from here? You spoke of a fresh start. I would advise both of us to embrace it.”
Abbie leaned against his chest. “And someday live at Wollstonecraft Hall?”
�
�It is large enough to accommodate us. The men of Wollstonecraft Hall are a strange sort, all living together as we do, but we are a solid, supportive family, and they would welcome you and Megan warmly.”
“They have already,” she whispered.
“There. All that remains is for us to decide what to do next. Marriage is the logical step, but I will not rush you. I promise.”
Garrett made it sound so easy. Being here, after what they had shared, it would be tempting to agree to anything he proposed. Which made it all the more imperative that she remain cautious. Abbie also had to think of Megan. Her daughter already had her life upended, and though she appeared to be adjusting a little, she needed more time. Truthfully, Abbie did as well. “Since I’ve already decided on the Monday departure date, I should follow through. If it were only myself to consider, but Megan—”
“I have a suggestion. I would like you both to accompany me in the early spring to Scotland. A few weeks at most. Discuss it with Megan. I understand that you have concerns about her schooling, but we will make it up somehow. Think about it. Will you?”
Abbie gave him a stern look. “You must cease interrupting me, Garrett. I don’t like it.”
“I stand admonished. And you’re right. I will endeavor to not do it again.”
His words were sincerely meant, and she smiled in response. “Thank you. I will discuss the journey with Megan. We’ve never been to Scotland, and we would like to be there to support you in dealing with your grandfather’s burial and estate. I can’t see her saying no, but there is a chance she may prefer not to go.”
Garrett took her hand. “I believe she is warming toward me.”
Scandal with a Sinful Scot Page 16