“Then let’s say ye can cry on yer sister’s shoulder for days once we get ye to Bedlay. Does that suit?”
“Yes. And once I arrive, I might never leave again.”
“Sir, the men are tied up. Where shall we put them?” The younger footman approached the carriage.
Sarah drew in a deep breath. “Not in here!”
“Nay, lass. Dinna fash yerself. I’ll put them in here, and you will ride with me to the next posting inn.” Braeden plopped her on the seat across from them and climbed out of the carriage. Sarah attempted to right herself and regain her dignity as she listened to Braeden give orders to the footmen.
How had a stuffy university professor ever gained the ability to take down a highwayman while the men they’d hired to escort them stood motionless, ready to hand over everything to the robbers? None of her preconceived notions about Braeden McKinnon had come to pass. Which was precisely why she couldn’t dismiss the man as merely an escort to her sister’s home.
She felt as safe with him as she did with her brother. Drake had always looked out for his mother and sisters, taking over the task from their father the day the man had been thrown from his horse and killed by a broken neck.
Braeden escorted her from the carriage and, after supervising the loading of the highwaymen, said, “Ye can sit across my lap, or ride astride like ye said ye did at yer family’s country home.”
Neither choice seemed appropriate. Repeating the ride they’d taken when he’d first rescued her, when her bottom had sat snug against his manhood, did not seem the wise choice.
Sarah glanced down at herself. “Since I wear my breeches when I ride astride, I don’t think that’s how I prefer to travel now.”
Braeden nodded and scooped her up, holding her in his arms as he stepped into the stirrup and swung his leg over the horse, settling them both, her body draped across his lap. The man handled her as if she weighed nothing. How in heaven’s name did someone who spent his time in front of a classroom have such strength?
Given the chance to study his features unabashed as they rode ahead of the carriage, she understood the attraction she was having such a difficult time fighting.
Strong features, chiseled chin, warm eyes behind spectacles, and hair that refused to stay off his forehead, making her fingers itch to smooth it back. She rested against his solid chest, his heart beating in her ear. The cool air rushed past them as she felt his muscled thighs under her bottom. Secure in his arms, she pondered how a genius university professor had the body of a field worker.
“Are ye having fun admiring me, lass?” He looked down at her and grinned. “Do ye see anything ye like?”
Caught like a child with her hand snatching a biscuit from Cook, she blushed until she thought her face would catch fire. She raised her chin and sniffed. “I have no idea what you mean. I was merely watching the scenery.”
“Aye. ’Tis lovely scenery, for sure. All these trees, one after another. I can see why ye’d want to stare at it. Fascinating.” He winked at her, and lips pursed, Sarah turned slightly so she couldn’t see his face, hoping the wind would cool her heated cheeks.
They rode in silence for another hour or so while Sarah fought sleep with her comfortable position tucked against Braeden’s warm body. Her head dipped occasionally, but she managed to shift herself upright. The last thing she wanted to do was curl up against him and fall asleep with the scent of his soap lulling her into slumber.
Braeden slowed the horse to a trot as the next inn came into view. Once they stopped, he jumped from the horse and reached for her. As she slid down his body, she drew in a sharp breath. Stiff from riding, she grabbed his arm as they made their way into the establishment. “Don’t forget we are sister and brother.”
Chapter Eight
Sarah was surprised by the number of elegant carriages in front of the inn. She certainly hadn’t expected to see so many fine coaches on this road, here in the middle of the Highlands.
She dragged her feet as they entered the bustling room. The trip thus far had her muddleheaded. All she could think of was a hot bath, warm food, and a soft bed.
“Why don’t you secure us two rooms while I notify the stable lad that the carriage arriving behind us contains two bandits?” Braeden spoke above the din of the crowd as he led Sarah to the innkeeper’s desk.
Chaos reigned all around them. The stylish carriages had deposited more than a dozen people at the inn, all of them demanding and shouting to be heard above the others. All of them requiring special attention.
“Oh, dear. What is this about?” Sarah asked, stifling a yawn.
“I dinna ken, but I hope it doesn’t mean we canna get a room.”
“Two rooms.”
“Aye. With the way things look, I will be happy if we dinna have to sleep in the stables.”
The innkeeper was away from his post, so Sarah waited, her eyes burning from fatigue as Braeden left her to take care of notifying the stable hands. A burly man bounded down the stairs and greeted the first person in the line. The queue moved forward, with the innkeeper bowing and scraping, ordering women who must have been his family members to bring baths, prepare tea, and make note of special requests for dinner.
“Two rooms, please,” Sarah said as an older woman with her maid stepped aside to follow a young girl up the stairs, complaining loudly all the way, and nudging the maid with her elbow.
“’Tis sorry I am, my lady, but I only have one room left.”
Sarah chewed her lip for a moment. As tired as she was, and with the carriage still on the road with the bandits in it, she had no choice. It was perfectly acceptable for brother and sister to share a room. She and Braeden could work out the sleeping arrangements later. “That is fine, we’ll take one room.”
As the man fumbled for the key, Braeden walked up to the counter and touched Sarah on her arm. “’Tis taken care of.”
“Professor!” The innkeeper grinned as he addressed a startled Braeden. “I dinna ken this room was for ye and yer wife.”
Sarah gaped at the man. Wife? Her tired brain did some fast scheming. If the innkeeper knew Braeden, chances were he also knew his sisters, and she was certainly not one of them. She could take the room herself, but then everyone within shouting distance would know she had intended to share a room with Braeden. Not good.
Pasting on a smile, she turned to Braeden. “Yes, dear, they only have one room left, so aren’t we fortunate?” She tucked her arm into his and smiled at the innkeeper. “My husband and I are grateful we were able to secure the last room.”
Braeden stared openmouthed and then bent to speak into her ear. “Lass, do ye realize what ye’ve done? Ye just told the man we’re married.”
“I know that, dear.” She kicked him on his leg. “I told him that because we are married.” She cast a smile at the innkeeper. “Men can be so trying at times.”
Braeden didn’t know whether to laugh or wail. The lass had just married them. She obviously either dinna ken, or had forgotten, that in Scotland a declaration of marriage before a witness was a legal binding of the couple. Moreover, if they spent the night together in the same room it would be considered consummation, and there would be no turning back.
He couldn’t even contradict the lass. It would embarrass her, no doubt, and there were still quite a few people in the common room who had heard their exchange. Since she’d assured the innkeeper they were married, if he denied it that could be a worse scandal for the poor woman. Everyone within earshot would be certain to determine who the young lady was who tried to pass herself off as married in order to share a room with a man. He groaned inwardly at the conundrum she’d just created for them.
As they waited for another daughter to escort them to their room, he studied his newly acquired wife and wondered why he wasn’t more upset by this turn of events. Of course they could get out of it by simply ignoring the whole thing once they left the inn tomorrow morning. After all, who would know what the lass had done except them
?
And the innkeeper.
And the innkeeper’s family.
And all the people milling about in the room whom he hadn’t gotten a good look at. There was a chance he knew some of them.
But the more important question was, did he want to ignore the unexpected marriage? Sarah would be a fine wife. Beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, and best of all, spirited enough to certainly keep him content in the bedchamber.
When he’d been hired by the university, he’d put off searching for a wife. He was young, much younger than his peers, and his work came first. But there was no reason, now that it had happened, that he couldn’t make it work out. A wife could certainly, if not help, at least support him in his profession.
“Braedon McKinnon, are ye here for the Quigley lass’s wedding?” An unexpected slap on his back almost knocked Braedon off his feet. He turned to Donald Munro, brother to one of the lasses who had married a McKinnon lad a few years back.
“Donald. ’Tis nice to see ye.” He put out his hand and the men shook. “Nay. I’m on my way home from university and stopped here for the night,” he answered. “It appears I didn’t pick the best day to do it.”
“Ye have the right of it, lad. The horde of us are traveling together for the wedding in Reay come this Friday.” Munro looked around. “Did I see ye come in with a lass?”
Before Braeden could form an answer, the innkeeper said, “Mr. McKinnon, my daughter just took yer wife upstairs to yer room. ’Tis the third door on the left when yer ready, sir.”
“Wife?” Munro asked with raised eyebrows. “So one of the lasses with her eye on ye finally caught ye, aye?”
“Aye.” Braeden grinned. If only the man knew how effectively Sarah had indeed caught him. And herself.
“I’m on my way to dinner. Perhaps we can raise a toast to yer wife later?”
“Aye.” He might as well drink to the occasion. Then as he watched Munro walk away to join his friends, he thought it would be best to keep Sarah’s mistake from her for a while. Given what he knew of her reluctance to marry, the lass might not take it well. And considering the state of her nerves earlier today, who knew what her reaction to being accidentally married would be?
He knew very few lasses who would have dealt so well with all the mishaps they’d suffered in the past few days. Revealing this disaster could wait until tomorrow.
Braeden made his way through the crowd and up the stairs. He hesitated for a moment, then knocked on the door. Sarah responded, hiding behind the door, her head peeking out. “What do you want?”
He rested his hands on his hips. “I want to come into my room.”
She opened the door wider and stepped back. “Very well. But do whatever it is you need to do and then find where you will sleep.” The lass drew herself up like the best matronly chaperone he’d ever encountered.
“Excuse me, lass?”
“Well, certainly you can’t sleep in here.” She swept her arm around to indicate the area.
“And why not?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We can’t spend the night in the same room. It’s not proper.”
Little did the lass know how very proper it would be for him to spend the night here with her. Just the thought of climbing into the bed alongside her, pulling her warm soft body to his side, and making slow, sweet love to her drove his heartbeat up which, in turn, pumped all his blood to his lower parts.
“Ye just told the innkeeper we’re husband and wife. Do ye not think the man will consider it strange if I go traipsing out to the stable to sleep with the animals?”
“I’m so sorry, Braeden. I didn’t think about anything when I said we were married. I just wanted to get a room before they were all gone. I guess we could have taken the room for me and you could have stayed…”
“With the animals?” He shook his head. “Aye, ’twas a lot ye dinna think about when ye blurted out that we were married.”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t matter. We don’t know anyone here, so we can tell a little bit of a lie.” She chewed her lower lip. “Can’t we?”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. ’Twas still a better idea to keep Sarah from knowing what she’d done. The lass had suffered one hardship after another, and what she needed now was food and a full night’s rest. “Dinna fash yerself, lass. I will sleep on the floor, or the chair, but right now I will ask the innkeeper to send up a bath and some food. Ye need yer sleep.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped. “There won’t be a bath tonight, there are too many people here, and from the sound of the women I followed up the stairs, they are all wanting special treatment.”
“Aye, I’m afraid yer right. I will go to the kitchen to get yer food and bring it up. That will give ye time while I’m gone to undress and climb into bed.”
“Very well. I am too tired at this point to argue or wonder what everyone thinks.” She gave him a slight smile. “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness.”
“Aye, lass. Anything for my wife.”
She picked up the slipper she’d just taken off and made a halfhearted attempt to toss it at his head.
“Before you go…” She twisted her fingers, embarrassed to ask the favor, but with the overflow of guests and the commotion they were causing the staff, she had no choice. “Can you help me out of my gown?”
Braeden’s throat worked up and down, his features paling. “Ach, lass. Yer making things difficult for me. More so every minute.”
She walked up to him and turned. “Please?”
What was she doing? She was in a room in the company of a man not her husband, with the door closed, and he was about to undress her. Instead of fear, she felt an odd sort of excited anticipation. As if something was about to happen that she was unfamiliar with, but longed for. Parts of her body she was not usually aware of began to throb and swell. She felt damp between her legs, and her breathing hitched. What in heaven’s name was happening to her?
She jumped when his warm fingers touched her back and slowly began to unfasten her gown. As each fastener released she caught her breath. Down his fingers moved, one hook at a time. When the last fastener had been released, she grasped the top of her gown to keep the bodice from dropping to her waist.
Even slower, his fingers worked to unlace her stays. His fingers fumbled, and she swore his hand shook. The sound of his panting only increased her awareness of whatever was happening between them. She could stand the silence no longer. “Braeden?”
“Aye, lass.” He spread the panels of the stays, and she took a much needed deep breath. Before she could form any words, he kissed the side of her neck and pushed the gown off her shoulders. Any words she might have strung together flew out of her head like a flock of birds at the sound of a pistol shot.
“Ye are so beautiful, Sarah.” He continued to kiss her neck, moving his lips down to her shoulders while his fingers pushed the sleeves of the gown toward her bent elbows. Taking both of her hands in his, he moved them to her sides so the silky fabric slid to her wrists and then off completely, the garment falling in a heap at her feet.
Her head fell back onto his chest as his hands cupped her breasts, massaging the flesh, plucking at her nipples. She moaned and moved her head to the side as he nibbled at the soft skin behind her ear. Unhappy with the restriction of the stays, she tugged at the bottom of the garment, then shimmied until it, too, fell at her feet. Once it landed, Braeden scooped her up and strode to the bed, laying her gently on the mattress. He took her mouth in complete possession as he covered her body with his. His hands roamed over the dips and swells of her form, eventually settling his large palm on her bottom, rubbing circles over the sensitive area.
Sarah felt the bulge in his breeches pressing against the part of her that ached. She pushed back, rubbing against him to ease the throbbing. A groan escaped Braeden’s mouth, and he brought his hand down to cup her most private part. She sucked in a breath when his fingers delved
into the opening in her body that was moist and warm.
She should be embarrassed to have a man touch her where no one else ever had. But somehow it felt right, as if she knew instinctively his touch would lead to a place where she longed to be. That her body craved. Their remaining clothing became a restriction; she wanted to feel his skin against hers.
“Mrs. McKinnon, I have yer satchel here for ye that ye left downstairs.” A woman’s voice drifted through the door.
Sarah came back to herself with a jolt, reminding her of where she was and who she was with. And what they’d been doing. Oh God. What was the matter with her? “Get up.” She pushed at Braeden’s shoulders.
In a flash he was off the bed, shoving back the hair that had fallen on his forehead. His hands landed on his hips as he hung his head and took in deep breaths. Sarah swung her legs over the bed and stood, only to sit back down again. Her legs would not hold her.
“Mrs. McKinnon?”
“Yes. I will be right there.” Was that her voice?
Braeden glanced down at himself and smirked. “I canna answer the door like this, lass.”
“Oh.” She felt the heat rise to her face as she once again attempted to stand. A little steadier this time, she managed to make it to the door on shaky legs and opened it, blocking her disheveled state from the woman. Reaching her arm out, she said, “Thank you,” and took the bag from her hand.
“Did ye want me to send up a tray for ye, lass?”
“Nay.” Braeden stepped to the door, apparently having recovered his dignity. “I was about to fetch my wife’s dinner. ’Twill save ye a trip up and down the stairs.”
Before Sarah had completely recovered herself, Braeden placed her satchel on the floor and left the room.
That man is dangerous. Very, very dangerous.
Feeling a bit more in control of himself, Braeden followed the woman down the stairs. The noise in the common room had ceased, but with all the gentry having retired to their rooms, the local townspeople were arriving for a night of visiting and drinking. What he needed more than anything was a swim in a very cold loch or a dousing in a trough.
The Highlander's Accidental Marriage (Marriage Mart Mayhem) Page 8