Pretender's Game

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Pretender's Game Page 9

by Louise Clark


  He shifted to position himself more securely above her, and his mouth left hers. “That’s better, lass. Easy now.” His teeth began to nibble the delicate shell of her ear, making Thea moan as she again felt that hot flood of pure sensation.

  As his hand stroked softly up her leg, pushing the filmy folds of her bed gown with it, he used the pressure of his knee to coax her thighs apart. Half lost in a mist of sensations she couldn’t describe, Thea moved instinctively, stretching her legs wide to give him easier access.

  When his lips found hers again and his weight descended upon her, she was prepared. Her tongue met his, bold and shy at once, touching and caressing as his penetrated. At the same moment his body thrust into hers, ending her maidenhood and jerking her out of the hazy dream of sensation. Reality left her cold, sore, and invaded.

  For a moment he did not move. Then his lips left hers to nibble at that sensitive spot on her neck, while one hand stroked and toyed with her breast. Thea lay stiffly, wishing she knew what she should do next, but unable to respond as she had but moments before.

  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he gratified his own pleasure, then withdrew. She sighed, relieved and edgy at the same time. He quickly rolled off her to sit on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily.

  Thea watched him, wondering what he would do now. It was common in their class for a man to bed his wife, then retreat to his own room for the night. A room had been prepared in the Tilton household for just this occasion. No one would criticize James if he left her now. He had done his duty.

  Taking a deep breath, he flung back his head, then turned back to lean over Thea. He smiled down at her, one hand stroking her smooth cheek. “Did I hurt you?”

  His voice was low and a little rough. Thea heard the sound as concern and smiled back at him. “A trifle, no more.”

  He raised the bedclothes, pursing his lips at the blood on her thighs and on the sheets. “I am sorry, Thea.” His finger traced the dark stains on her skin, making her shiver. “Next time it will be easier, I promise you.”

  A moment or two before, Thea would have been quite happy never to participate in a “next time.” Now James’s caress was tantalizing her with a promise she couldn’t define.

  His hand slid up her leg to her hip, the thumb stroking her skin in small, tantalizing circles as it went. Thea’s eyes glazed, then drifted shut. They flew open when he dropped a feather-light kiss on her lips.

  “It will be easier this time, I promise,” he said.

  She moistened her lips. “James, you don’t have to, um… I mean—”

  “Yes, I do.”

  His expression was reassuring, but there was a promise of something more. He bent to kiss her deeply again, and Thea’s eyes drifted closed once more.

  After that she was ruled only by sensation as he used his mouth and hands to caress her body until she burned with desires and demands. “James! James, stop teasing me. I can stand no more. Please, help me!”

  He entered her quickly, and with a shudder her body accepted his. This time, though, their joining set her free to soar.

  When he was certain her satisfaction was complete, he took his own, then eased from her. Drawing her close, he whispered, “Love between a man and a woman is no more complicated than what we just shared. Will you let me pleasure you again, sweet Thea?”

  She sighed in a lazy, voluptuous way, then drawled, “I am at your service, sir,” as she cast him a teasing look from beneath her lashes.

  James laughed. “I think I married the only woman in Edinburgh who has the fire and sparkle to entertain me for the rest of my life.”

  “Then you are satisfied with your marriage, James?” She pressed her body closer to his and lifted her hand to stroke his cheek.

  “How could I not be?” He nibbled the corner of her mouth. “My wife is beautiful, intelligent, and she turns to fire in my arms.”

  His words sent hope leaping in her heart. Though she searched his face, she could find no evidence that denied his words. She snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. I am too.” His arms tightened around her, strong but tender.

  She had been right to marry James MacLonan, she thought lazily. Held close in his arms, she could almost persuade herself that James’s feelings toward her would grow into something deeper and that their marriage, begun as a political alliance, might yet become a love match.

  She’d fallen asleep quite suddenly after that, or so she thought now, looking at the daylight streaming in her window. James had been with her then, but he must have left sometime during the night. Vaguely, for no reason that her rational mind could determine, she was disappointed. Suppressing a sigh, she pulled herself up.

  “Ah, you’re awake.”

  She blinked as her husband opened the bed curtains wider. Happiness flooded her. He had stayed. “Yes, I’m awake.”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed. There was a gleam in his eyes that made Thea’s heart thump. “I’ll ring for the maid to bring you your chocolate. But first, let me look at you.” With gentle hands he stroked her mass of thick golden hair from her face. Where his fingers touched, fire burned along Thea’s skin.

  “You are beautiful,” he said, his eyes roving down to her breasts, which gleamed rose pink and white under the thin linen of her nightdress. He bent and kissed her.

  Thea wet her lips. “James?” she whispered.

  He looked up, his hand cupping her breast, his brow raised in a silent question.

  “Will you… can you wait for a moment or two before you summon the maid?”

  He eased in beside her. “I am at your command.”

  They both laughed until passion absorbed them.

  *

  Thea was still in bed, pillows plumped up behind her to support her back, her golden hair loose and tumbled, when her sister opened the door.

  “Thea, I could wait no longer!” Isabelle announced as she peaked into the room. “Are you alone?” she added somewhat belatedly, glancing about. A half-finished cup of chocolate rested on the table beside the bed, and at that moment Thea’s maid emerged from the dressing room. Satisfied that these clues were evidence that James was no longer with her sister, Isabelle skipped inside.

  “Isabelle, do come in,” Thea said with amusement as she watched her sister plunk herself down onto the bed. “Was there an urgent reason for you to seek me out?”

  “So much has happened, Thea. Of course I wanted to talk to you!”

  The bright questioning, look in Isabelle’s eyes told Thea that she wanted to have a sisterly heart-to-heart talk and would be satisfied with nothing less. With a faint smile, Thea dismissed her maid with a wave of her hand. “There now, Isabelle. We are alone and we have hours to talk. I claim a new bride’s prerogative of lying about lazily on the morning after her wedding.”

  “What is he like, Thea?”

  Thea thought about James and the way he had made love to her. She blushed. “He is careful, considerate, and gentle. I cannot complain about my new husband.”

  “Did you… enjoy it?”

  Thea blushed even larder. “Yes.”

  Isabelle hooted in a most unladylike manner that would have caused her mother’s wrath to descend upon her should Arabella have heard her. “Thea! I would not have thought it! You are embarrassed.”

  Now quite red, Thea said, “I am not.”

  Isabelle began to laugh, and so did Thea.

  “Very well, it is true. I am embarrassed talking about James’s lovemaking, but in truth, Isabelle, I cannot complain of my treatment. He did not leave me after he had bedded me, as some men would. Instead he stayed the night, and he was here when I awoke this morning. I found that…” She hesitated, searching for a way to describe the hazy emotions that were churning about inside her. “Touching and reassuring.”

  Isabelle caught Thea’s hand in hers. “Thea, I’m so glad to hear you say that, especially since you will soon have only James to rely upon.”

  It took Thea a moment
to absorb her sister’s comment. Then, frowning, she said, “Isabelle, what are you talking about? True, James and I must find a residence of our own, but I will still have you and Mama and Papa to visit. And I will continue on my round of activities. I will not be immured alone in our house with James!”

  Isabelle sat back. Confusion drew her brows together into a frown. “Thea, have you and James not discussed where you will be living?”

  Thea, who had just taken a sip of chocolate, returned the cup to the saucer with a click and set it firmly on the table. She pinned her sister with a level stare. “Isabelle, what are you hinting at? That James has decided we will live in the Highlands he loves so well?”

  Isabelle bit her lip. “Yes, but…”

  Thea sat very still. Her body was burning with a fierce heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment. “Tell me exactly what it was that you heard.” Her eyes blazed with a fiery glitter. “Do not leave anything out, Isabelle. Nothing!”

  Isabelle began to pleat the blanket. “I overheard Mama and Papa talking, Thea, and I did not think. I assumed that you would already know.”

  “What did you hear?”

  Isabelle bit her lip and looked down at the blanket. “Mama was angry and Papa was trying to placate her. He was being quite logical in that way he has, and Mama was infuriated, as she always is. He said that of course James would want to live at Glenmuir. And Mama asked him if he’d known this before the wedding. When he replied he sounded oh, I don’t know, chastened, I think. He said that yes, he had assumed James would want to live in the Highlands, but he’d only found out for certain during the wedding celebrations.”

  “Glenmuir,” Thea said softly, staring far off into the distance. “We would be alone there.”

  “But you said that James was considerate and kind, Thea,” Isabelle reminded her encouragingly. “Surely, it would not be so bad.”

  Perhaps, perhaps not. Thea was a strong-minded woman who had been raised to accept sudden shifts in her family life. She had learned to adapt gracefully to these alterations, but she had always been surrounded by those she trusted and loved, which helped her deal with the emotional upheaval that accompanied major changes. This time she would have to build a relationship with James even as she adjusted to a new place to live. The prospect was daunting.

  “James did not tell me of his plans,” she said slowly, still staring past her sister as if she was not there.

  “Perhaps he feared that you would refuse to marry him had you known.”

  Thea drew her gaze away from the imaginary Glenmuir, back to her sister. “Isabelle, we have lived in Scotland, what, three years?”

  Isabelle nodded.

  “During that time I have learned that Scots like women who are intelligent and outspoken, and who are equal partners in any marriage.”

  Isabelle laughed. “You have certainly blossomed, Thea. I am amazed at the topics you discuss with the gentlemen of our acquaintance.”

  “Yes,” Thea said slowly. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I think James MacLonan spent too many years in France and wandering across the Continent. He has forgotten that Scottish wives expect their husbands to treat them with a respect.”

  Isabelle looked at her sister with some alarm. “Thea, what are you going to do?”

  Thea walked over to her dressing table and surveyed herself in the glass. After a moment she picked up a brush and began to ease the tangles out of her long hair. “I am going to talk to my husband, Isabelle, and let him tell me himself that we will be going to Glenmuir. I wonder when he plans to let me in on the secret. The day before we are to leave Edinburgh? The morning we depart? Am I to be the last person in Edinburgh to learn that I will no longer be living here?”

  Now thoroughly alarmed, Isabelle wailed, “Thea, I’m sorry! I should not have said anything!”

  Thea dropped the brush and came back to the bed. “Nonsense, Isabelle,” she said, hugging her sister. “I would feel no end of a fool if I continued on in a fog of pleasure thinking James cared about me and was concerned about my happiness, while everyone else knew that I was nothing more than a pawn. Your news has opened my eyes, and I thank you for it.”

  “No! Thea, you’re wrong. James does not see you as a pawn, I’m sure of it.”

  Thea sighed. She would give anything to go back to that pleasant haze she’d been in before Isabelle arrived. But that was not to be. “Isabelle, James and I must find our own way of dealing together. If he thinks he can leave me out of decisions that will affect both of us, then I’d best show him now that I will not allow it. You’ve helped me immeasurably. Now, I must get dressed. Will you ring for my maid?”

  Isabelle did what her sister asked. “Thea, James is your husband. I did not think that husbands had to explain anything to their wives.”

  “They do not,” Thea said softly. “At least, legally they do not. But here in Scotland, society is more open and women have greater expectations of how they should be treated by their husbands. That is one of the reasons I accepted James’s proposal. I believed that he would follow the customs of his country. I did not want to be stuck in a marriage where my husband expected me to be subservient. A part of me would wither and die in that kind of relationship.”

  “Oh.” Isabelle flopped down on the bed beside her sister. “But Thea, Papa does not consider Mama subservient.”

  “No, he does not. But Papa is not a typical gentleman of our class. Besides, Mama would never let him intimidate her. She simply would not accept it.”

  “And you are the same, Thea. You will not accept anything but the most open, honorable treatment from James.”

  Thea hugged her sister. “You are right, Isabelle.” She was quiet for a moment. “Although I may have to fight him for it.”

  Chapter 7

  Edinburgh had never been one of James’s favorite places. During the ‘45 he had spent weeks here while the Prince gathered up his army. He had been surrounded by men who believed as passionately as he that the Pretender was the man to force the Hanovers from the throne and return the Stuarts to their rightful place as kings of England and Scotland. Those had been heady days, when anything had seemed possible, and the mood amongst the Pretender’s people had been light and happy. Despite that, James had still felt the cold shadow of grim authority in the city. Then he had shaken the feeling off. Now he was so suffocated by the place and the people that he longed for the freedom of his Highland hills.

  He lounged in the comfortable wing chair and stretched his toes toward the fire as he waited for his father. It had been a long road from that small hovel in France to his father’s well-appointed house in Edinburgh, a road that had meandered through strange places and at times had seemed likely never to end. He leaned his head against the chair back. For the first time in many, many years he was able to relax. It was an unexpected luxury.

  There was a click as the door to the parlor opened, then the light tap of his father’s cane. James rose lithely to his feet. “Sir.”

  Grant MacLonan considered his son, then smiled. “Well, Jamie, how do you find married life?”

  James smiled lazily. “I can’t complain, sir. Miss Tilton and I seem able to get on very well together.”

  “Mrs. MacLonan, laddie, don’t forget that. Whatever her strengths or failings, she’s your wife now and you’re bound to honor her.”

  James raised a brow. “l realize that, sir.”

  Grant eyed him levelly. “Aye, I know you do. I fear, though, that you may not be as comfortable living in her father’s lodgings.”

  “General and Lady Tilton have done all that is polite.” He shrugged, then smiled a little ruefully. “I feel much as I did in France, when I was billeted on a family that wasn’t quite sure they wanted to have me about, but who could not ask me to leave.”

  “Tilton is a decent man, Jamie. He’ll do his best by you.”

  James’s mouth twisted. “In a cold, dispassionate sort of way.” He hesitated, then changed the subject.
“Papa, the day is clear, although it’s still cool. I thought I would go out and see about some horses. I wish to buy Miss… my wife a proper mount.”

  “I’ll come with you, Jamie.” Grant waved down the protests that rose to his son’s lips. “I am not so feeble that I cannot search for good horseflesh with my son!”

  James grinned, relieved to see that his father’s spirit could not be crushed by the physical ailments that plagued him.

  When they were outside, Grant refused to order a sedan chair to carry him. He said he wanted to talk to his son, and could not do so all closed up in a chair.

  James was touched, but had no idea how to express the affection for his father that threatened to overwhelm him at that moment. He took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Did you send the letter I wrote to Gregor MacLonan, telling him that I would be at Glenmuir as soon as the roads were clear?”

  Grant tossed him a look from beneath bushy brows. “Aye, I did. He’ll be glad to see you. Gregor has been doing his best to bring Glenmuir back to prosperity, but the land was badly ravaged. The estate needs you there, Jamie. There is no way around it.”

  James looked at the tall buildings that crowded the edges of the narrow wynd. “I look forward to going,” he said honestly.

  “Aye.” Grant nodded. He cast his son another of his shrewd, penetrating glances. “But how does your bride feel about it?”

  There was a moment of telling silence. “She will be fine.”

  “She doesn’t know?”

  James reddened at his father’s incredulous tone. He’d been planning to tell Thea that they would be living at Glenmuir ever since she had agreed to marry him, but somehow he had never quite gotten around to it. “It doesn’t matter. Now that we are married she will go where I go.” Even to his own ears his voice had the cold, hard edge he used when commanding his men on the field.

 

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