“How far behind schedule are we now?” Sarah asked as the innkeeper led them upstairs to their rooms.
“Ach, lass. If we had a schedule—which we dinna—we would be a day or so behind.”
“My sister will be quite worried.”
“Dinna fash yerself. See to getting refreshed, and we will have a bit of supper. The smells coming from the kitchen are far better than the last inn.”
Sarah had to agree with Braeden’s comment. Because she’d eaten so little at tea time, her stomach let out with a most unladylike growl as the door to their room closed.
“My lady, if it is all right with you, I believe I will skip supper and merely rest for the remainder of the evening.”
Sarah touched her fingers to Alice’s forehead, which remained cool. “Are you sure? Maybe a bowl of soup would go down well?”
“No thank you. My stomach is troubling me a bit, so I’d rather not eat. I’ll rest here, and when you return, you can awaken me to help you undress.”
“No need to do that. I’m sure I can manage. Try to get some sleep, and I am sure you will be fine tomorrow.”
Once the maid was settled under the covers, Sarah left the room to join Braeden for supper. The innkeeper’s daughter directed her to a private dining room where Braeden waited for her. One look at him and her heart took a tiny leap in her chest.
She’d tried very hard to hide her reaction to his kiss in the woods. Aside from a slight peck that Lord Manning had given her when they’d walked in the garden during his mother’s house party, she’d never been kissed. Not for lack of gentlemen trying. But she’d always managed to duck just in time to avoid their lips. Somehow she knew Braeden’s kiss was unlike any other she would have received.
What astounded her most was that she’d allowed it. As their hands had touched, she’d immediately known his intention. The look in his eyes, the movement toward her, all signaled his purpose. For once in her life she hadn’t wanted to turn away. She had wanted to experience a kiss from Braeden McKinnon.
Whatever she’d expected had not been anything like the actual joining of their lips. It was gentle at first, then Braeden had become more insistent, and she’d found following his lead was quite pleasurable.
She’d once caught her sister Abigail being kissed by her husband, Joseph. Despite her decision to put off any idea of marriage for a few years, the feelings she’d experienced witnessing the passion between them had left her with a sense of loss, of missing something very important in life. After Braeden’s kiss, she no longer felt left out. But what she had been left with frightened her a great deal.
He held out her chair and she sat, trying very hard to avoid his piercing gaze. “How is yer maid?”
“I don’t actually know, for sure. She says she is only tired, but she has already slept most of the day.”
“She is not having supper?”
Sarah shook her head as a young girl brought a platter of meat, a bowl of stewed vegetables, warm bread, and fresh butter and set it on the table. “May I have a pot of tea, please?”
“Yes, my lady.” The girl did a quick curtsy and left the room.
Sarah picked up her fork. “Alice says she isn’t hungry, merely tired.”
They ate the meal in relative silence, the sound of the fire behind them crackling with a soothing sound. The food was very good, as was the tea. The long day was catching up with her.
Braeden tilted his lips in a slow smile. “Are you ready to retire, lass?”
“Yes.” Sarah stifled a yawn. “I believe I am. I’d forgotten how tiring travel can be.”
He stood and pulled her chair out. Extending his arm, they left the room together. She preceded him up the stairs and stopped at the door to her room. She turned to say good night, and her breath caught.
He’s going to kiss me again.
Chapter Five
Braeden rested his forearm against the doorframe and leaned in. He regarded Sarah with a rakish grin. “So lass, ye think my kiss was merely ‘nice’?”
She raised her chin, her eyes flashing. “Yes, truly. It was…nice.”
“Ach, ’tis an insult to be sure, and ’tis time to change yer mind.”
“I don’t think…”
He cupped her face, and his mouth covered hers hungrily. All rational thought fled like water from a hole in a dam. The strength of his lips against hers went straight to her knees, turning them to liquid. If it weren’t for his muscled arm that moved down to anchor tightly around her waist, there was a good chance she would slide to the floor in a crumpled heap. Just like the swooning misses she’d always viewed with disdain.
She did not want to feel the power he held over her, tried very hard to push away the emotions racing through her. If she could, she’d command these unwanted feelings to a compartment in her brain that she would label revisit when far away from Braeden McKinnon. In some ways, the man was more dangerous than the highwaymen she’d feared.
Braedon released her lips and pulled back, staring at her, flashing a devilish smile. “Lass, it appears ye are having trouble standing. Do ye think ye might have contracted whatever it is yer maid has come down with?” His eyes sparkled as he added, “Aye, it must be so, since yer lovely cheeks are flushed, and ye feel warm.”
She covered her cheeks with her palms. “It is merely hot in here.”
He tapped the end of her nose with his index finger. “Or perhaps my kiss is not ‘just nice’ after all, aye?” With that he pushed himself away from the doorjamb and strolled to his room two doors down. When he reached his destination, he turned. “Good night, lass.”
Sarah fought to retain her dignity as she wished him a good night as well. How effective her words were remained questionable, since her voice croaked, which brought a soft, dangerous laugh from Braeden. He left her standing in the corridor as he opened his door and stepped into the room. Before he closed it, he poked his head out. “Best to get inside and lock yer door, lass. You never know who might wish to join ye.”
She scurried inside and leaned against the door, attempting to catch her breath. The only visitor she needed to concern herself with was her traveling companion. What was even more disconcerting was that if it weren’t for Alice sleeping only feet from her, she might not have refused him had he asked.
After all, if she were going to become the independent woman she aspired to, couldn’t she experiment a bit? She shivered at the scandalous thought.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. This would never do. The Scotsman held too much power over her. He was not like the men she’d known in London, who would stay far away simply by the looks she cast in their direction. Tomorrow she would inform the professor that it would be best for him to be on his way, and she would find another means to travel to her sister.
It had not escaped her notice that she’d earned the title “ice queen” among the gentlemen of the ton during her Seasons. The appellation suited her, made her feel as if she were in control of her life, not merely another young miss on the marketplace, like a horse being paraded before the crowd at Tattersalls. Eventually, she’d hoped to be considered on the shelf and then she could live her life the way she chose. She would write her books and lavish all her affection on her nieces and nephews.
She would not allow the tall, handsome, bespectacled Scotsman to sway her, since the time to think about a man was a few years off—if at all. Perhaps, as her publisher believed, she would become the next Jane Austen or Caroline Lamb. Although she doubted she could ever flaunt convention as Caroline was wont to do.
Moving away from the door, Sarah did her best to unfasten the back of her gown. She managed to undo the few clasps near her waist, but when it became apparent she was getting nowhere, she reluctantly approached Alice, tucked away in her cot against the wall.
“Alice,” she called softly.
The maid groaned but didn’t move. Sarah reached out to touch her shoulder, then gasped as she jerked her hand back. The woman was burning up with f
ever. “Alice,” she called again as she lightly shook her. “Alice. Can you wake up?”
Alice rolled onto her back. “My lady. I feel so very sick. My stomach is rolling about, and my bones feel as though they are on fire.”
In all the years of her life, it had always been her mother and various nurses who had taken care of the numerous illnesses, cuts, bruises, and other catastrophes that were a part of raising six children. Trying very hard to tamp down her rising panic, her mind raced in a myriad of different directions. But she brought herself up short when one thought resonated in her head.
Braeden.
Gathering her skirts in her fists, she raced to the door and flung it open. Within seconds she was pounding on Braeden’s door.
“What?” He yanked open the door. Despite her rising panic, her eyes grew wide at his bare chest and unbuttoned breeches. Curly dark hair ran down the center of his muscular chest to disappear into his waistband. Wavy curls skimmed his forehead, and he fumbled to put his spectacles on. “What’s wrong, lass?”
She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Alice. She is burning up with fever. I am worried. She seems very ill. Can we ask the innkeeper if there is a physician nearby?” Sarah wrung her hands. No person could survive such a high fever.
“Calm down, lass.” He grabbed a shirt from a chair by the door and pulled it over his head, buttoning it as he strode down the corridor to her door. “Light some candles,” he said over his shoulder as he headed to Alice’s bed.
Sarah fumbled with a flint until the candles were lit and a soft glow cast on the reclining figure of the maid. Her face was flushed, her eyes glassed over. Braeden put the back of his hand to her forehead. “Yes. Verra warm.”
“Can we fetch a physician?” Sarah asked.
Braeden motioned her to join him by the door. “’Tis the middle of nowhere here, lass. Even if there were one about, the innkeeper would surely not summon a physician in the dark of the night for a maid.”
Sarah drew in a sharp breath. “A maid is still a person!”
“I ken that. But ye ken from yer own life that certain people are designated to places in society that don’t demand lofty treatment.”
“Seeking a physician’s assistance is hardly lofty treatment. That doesn’t seem right.”
“Nay. I agree, but the fact remains we need to help yer maid ourselves until daylight. Then I can ride for a physician myself.”
She reluctantly nodded her agreement.
“I will draw water from the well behind the inn. Gather up as many handkerchiefs and cloths as yer able. We will have to cool her down with water.”
Braeden took the pitcher and bowl from the dresser and left the room while Sarah dug through her trunk for the necessary material. She cast a worried glance at Alice as the poor woman continued to thrash about and moan.
Braeden hauled the bucket up from the well and transferred water into the pitcher. The lass’s maid had not looked good at all. Aside from her high fever, she had a rash spreading up from her neck. With only candlelight, it was difficult to tell where else she had the rash.
He couldn’t afford any more delays. Although he’d been warned it could take up to a month or more to receive word from the committee selecting the members of the project, he’d also been advised a decision could be made rather quickly, too. This expedition was very important to him and his work. In order to be taken seriously with his peers, he needed to prove he could contribute to a team and do it well.
Another concern was the lass’s worry about the delays. With her sister awaiting her arrival while anticipating the birth of her bairn, any further interruptions in their travels would be worrisome for Sarah.
Sarah.
What was he doing taunting himself with the lass? She was an innocent young lady—sister to a duke. Not the sort of woman a man trifled with. And with him in no position now or in the near future to make the lass a respectable offer, he needed to keep far away from her.
But ach, how the lass set his blood to pumping. Whether she was raising her eyebrows in arrogance—common for a well-bred young lady of her station—or laughing delightedly about an amusing event, he desired her. From their first meeting he’d admired her plump lips and the womanly curves veiled by her garments. Curves that became visible when the wind plastered her gown against her.
Admittedly, even though he was still very desirous of the lass, that need had since changed to something else. After days of travel and hours spent talking and riding together, he’d grown fascinated with the woman, Lady Sarah. She was intelligent, compassionate, loyal, and amusing. He could spend months, indeed probably years, with her, and never peel away all the layers that made up the intriguing lass.
’Twas too bad his present life did not allow for pursuing a woman. Someday he wanted to take a wife and raise bairns. But not for many years. Right now his work was too important. ’Twould be a lonely existence for a wife, to be constantly saying good-bye to her husband as he left for one expedition after another. Or worse, to drag herself and their bairns from one place to the next.
Ach, but the lass is such a temptation.
Sarah had a stack of handkerchiefs ready. She’d loosened the maid’s garment and proceeded to dip the cloth in the water and wipe Alice’s face, neck, and hands.
“Lass, I’m thinking I’ll go for more water and perhaps ye can undo her gown a bit to cool her even more.”
Sarah regarded the maid as she continued to toss on her bed, thrashing about. Glancing over her shoulder as she tried to calm the woman, Sarah said, “Yes. I will loosen her gown. And I wish to thank you, Braeden. I appreciate what you are doing.”
He nodded and returned to his duties.
Eight hours later Braeden had made numerous trips back and forth to the well. The poor maid’s bed was soaked, as well as her nightgown and the front of Sarah’s frock. He’d tried very hard all night not to notice the curve of the lass’s breasts where the damp fabric clung to her fine form. The cool water, mixed with the chilly night air, also made her nipples prominent, causing his fingers to itch to pluck at them, make them rise farther. Before he teased them with his tongue.
He’d spent those same hours thinking of mathematical equations to distract himself and stifling a groan whenever his eyes drifted toward her body. Her nearness, the scent of her light floral mix combined with her natural woman’s perfume, had teased and tantalized him.
She’d spent all the time she could have been sleeping caring for her maid. All the tales he’d been privy to about English ladies faded with the dark of night. Perhaps the ones he’d met in London ballrooms were of the self-centered ilk, but this woman was like no other. ’Twas no wonder Liam MacBride had fallen in love with the lass’s sister.
Love. His breath caught. No need to go near that word.
The sun cast a soft glow into the room when Sarah brushed her damp forehead with the sleeve of her gown and sat back on her heels. “I think we need to see if we can find a physician. After all these hours, she is still very hot.”
“Aye. I’ll see to finding one for ye. In the meantime, ye need to get some rest yourself, lass. You dinna want to be catching what yer maid has.”
She slowly climbed to her feet and stretched her muscles. “What I need more than anything is a strong cup of tea and a hot bath.”
“I’ll see to that for ye when I rouse the innkeeper.”
He found the innkeeper’s wife busy in the kitchen, the aroma of bread baking already permeating the air.
“Ach, there is no physician that I am aware of, lad. But we have a healer who tends to the local folks. I can send my son to fetch her.”
“Thank ye, ma’am. Also, Lady Sarah has requested ye send up a bath for her.”
“How sick is the woman?”
“Not doing well, I’m afraid. A very high fever that Lady Sarah tried all night to bring down, to no avail. She also has a rash on her face.”
The woman tsked as she pounded another loaf of bread dough. “I’ll
send the healer as soon as she comes by.”
After a wash, shave, and change of clothes, Braeden sat in the private dining room waiting for Sarah to join him for breakfast. The healer had not yet arrived, and Braeden was growing concerned on how long this delay would be.
“Ah, finally, a cup of tea.” Sarah entered the room, dark circles under her eyes. Such a delicate looking lass, yet she had strength absent from most other ladies. So many women in her position would have been wailing about the discomforts and delays in reaching her sister. And who else would spend the night cooling her maid down from a fever? The same lass, he assumed, who would comfort her maid after a carriage accident.
He stood and pulled out her chair. “You are looking a bit tired, lass.”
“Yes. I am. But I’m more concerned now with the healer. Has she sent word yet?”
“Aye. She was attending a birth, but Mrs. Applebaum, the innkeeper’s wife, said the woman would be here as soon as possible.”
They shared a filling but quiet breakfast of sausage, eggs, and haggis. “Dinna care for the haggis, lass?”
She wrinkled her nose. “No. I have had it before. It is not one of my favorites.”
“McKinnon! Is that you?” His old friend, Macon Campbell, filled the doorway of the dining room with his large frame. He grinned from ear to ear as he stuck out his hand and strode toward Braeden.
Braeden jumped up from his seat, a smile on his face, as he met the man halfway across the room. “Campbell, what brings ye out this way?”
“My da sent me to escort my sister home from London.”
“London?”
“Yes. The lass has been staying with our aunt for a spell.” Macon glanced past Braeden. “Is that yer wife? Have ye married like yer cousin and I dinna ken?”
“Nay. Come meet Lady Sarah. She’s twin sister to The MacBride’s new wife. I am escorting her to visit Bedlay Castle.”
The two headed to the table where Sarah sat, fiddling with her teacup. A slight flush on her cheeks told him she must have heard Campbell’s remark.
The Highlander's Accidental Marriage (Marriage Mart Mayhem) Page 5