The Lyon's Laird: The Lyon's Den

by Hildie McQueen

  His mother would be curious and very angry with him for it. It was customary for the laird to marry before the clan. He and Evangeline would have a ceremony there and celebrate, however, it would not be the same.

  “Gideon?” Camren began. “Do you think it would be preferable for me not to inform my family about the marriage?”

  “And surprise them in person? Or do you plan to leave your new wife here?” Gideon gave him an incredulous look.

  It took a moment to formulate his thoughts. “No, what I mean, perform a marriage ceremony back in Scotland. Mother would want to be present at my wedding and I don’t wish to cause her undue distress.”

  His friend pondered the information. “It could work.”

  “Now to convince Miss Prescott.”

  “You haven’t even moved to calling each other by your given names and you are getting married in two days.” Gideon shook his head.

  “If it comes to pass, I will make sure to call her Evangeline.” Camren laughed. “Or perhaps a pet name of sorts.”

  When the butler announced Camren and Gideon’s arrival, Evangeline’s stomach flipped. Her pulse raced and anger immediately replaced her good mood. He’d insulted her and was now welcomed into her home. If not for the fact that he was her presumed fiancé, she would have refused to see him.

  She remained alone in the sitting room. Her mother and father had agreed it was best they speak alone and clear the air before any permanent decisions were made.

  Either the marriage would be postponed, or they’d find a way for it not to occur at all. Either way, this evening, things would be resolved between her and Camren. At least that was what she hoped.

  The doors opened and Camren stepped in. At seeing him, Evangeline got to her feet. Preferring to stand so that he would not tower over her was her first thought. However, when he neared, she realized how silly the notion was.

  He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, surprising her. The press of his warm lips sent her senses reeling, the anger evaporating for an instant.

  The kiss was a forward liberty and she wanted to chastise him for it, but instead she let out a shaky breath. “We must talk. There is much to discuss.”

  He took her hand and held it in both of his. When the hazel gaze met hers, uncertainly and sincerity emanated. “I pray you will forgive my actions at the ball. I was utterly disrespectful to you and treated you in a horrible manner. I can hardly forgive myself for it.” Camren lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “Will you accept my apology?”

  “Is that what you think of me? That I will pounce on any opportunity and be frivolously unrestrained when it comes to men?”

  Immediately, he shook his head. “No, I do not. I was taken aback and will honestly tell you that I allowed the wrong influence to tamper with my thoughts.”

  Evangeline was surprised to hear him admit to being influenced. Most men would never admit to someone causing them to do things. Despite his admission, she could not shake the tightness in her chest.

  “My past will always affect how people think of me. I have accepted it. However, I can’t marry you if, in the back of your mind, you will have doubts. That is why I must ask that we cancel the wedding. We can find a way to ensure your London home remains in the family. Perhaps if the blame is put squarely on me.”

  He studied her for a long time, making Evangeline wonder what he was thinking.

  “I want to marry you, Evangeline.”

  It was the first time he’d said her name. It sounded perfect, as if he had renamed her. As she sat transfixed, Camren’s mouth closed over hers. He tasted of whisky and promise. Her eyelids fell of their own accord.

  The attraction between them was without constraint. Evangeline knew full well lovemaking with him would be an explosion of the senses.

  She raked her fingers through his hair, acknowledging acceptance and, perhaps, forgiveness. The thought of not exploring more of the man, of not being with him saddened her.

  When he pulled her against his chest, she gave in and wrapped her arms around his neck, not caring in that moment if anyone entered. The world disappeared when he deepened the kiss, sending her entire being to shudder with want.

  Evangeline moaned against his mouth and Camren responded by trailing kisses down the side of her throat. She wanted more, needed more. It had been much too long that her blood burned like in that moment.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed when the tip of Camren’s tongue made circles at the base of her throat. His breath fanning over the most sensitive skin causing the most sensual of sensations.

  Although she became fully aware that his hand slid up from her waist to cup her breast, Evangeline was helpless to speak. Like a plump fruit, he scooped her left breast from its confines and suckled at the pert tip.

  Evangeline ran her hand from the back of his head down to his broad back as heat pooled in the center of her core. Just a bit more and she’d come undone. Evangeline was sure of it.

  Gently, he returned her breast to its proper place, lifted his head and once again took her mouth. This time, the kiss was lighter.

  His gaze delved into hers. “Yes, we should definitely talk.”

  Camren took Evangeline by the shoulders and peered into her eyes. “I gave my word and I will marry you, Evangeline. And I will strive to be a good husband. From this moment, I will trust you and not consider anything from your past. Can you accept it and be my wife?”

  Doubts reared, but at the same time, she could find no fault in his words. He accepted her as she was and would do his best by her. She nodded. “Yes.”

  His lips curved and his gaze trailed to her lips and then to her breasts. “I cannot wait to be with you. You are breathtaking.”

  Admittedly, she felt the same way. However, it would be unbecoming to state it out loud. All the rules of polite society had always been so stifling and, in a way, she looked forward to living in a country where things were a bit less strict.

  It was evident his chest was wide, and she wondered if there was a dusting of hair on it. Evangeline itched to run her nails down his back and cup his well-formed backside. Oh, and his legs were delightfully muscled. She let out a sigh.

  “You are thinking something?” he teased, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

  “Yes, I am thinking of a response. However, everything I’m thinking should not be spoken out loud.”

  He leaned toward her and pressed his ear to her mouth. “Whisper your thoughts to me.”

  Closing her eyes, she first pressed a soft kiss to the soft flesh and then chuckled. “Very well. I imagined what you look like bereft of clothing. The feel of your skin against mine. What your weight will feel like over me.” Evangeline hesitated when his breath caught.

  “Continue,” he said.

  “I will not,” she whispered. “The rest I will keep to myself.”

  Camren chuckled and, for a few seconds, kept his head next to hers. He smelled of expensive soap and a bit of leather. She inhaled his scent and he straightened. “Someone is coming.”

  The door was slightly open, but he blocked her from the doorway with his larger frame so Evangeline could not see who it was.

  “Miss Genie, dinner is to be served momentarily.” It was Fran, who she saw when looking around Camren. The maid met her gaze and smiled. “Perhaps a little fresh air will bring the flush from your face down a bit.” Fran slid a look to Camren and then to the French doors.

  “Thank you, Fran,” Evangeline said and accepted Camren’s hand to stand. She hurried to the doors and opened them. “We will be there shortly.”

  The cool breezed fanned over her overheated face and she gazed up to Camren. “They will be glad to hear we’ve decided to move forward with the ceremony.”

  He nodded. “I do have something to ask of you.”

  “Yes?”

  “As laird of Clan Maclean, I am expected to marry in the presence of my clanspeople. My mother will want to plan our wedding ceremony. I wish to bring you
to Scotland as my betrothed. Keep the fact we are actually married from them.”

  From the lowering of her brows and the crease between them, he expected her to be upset. However, Evangeline understood his responsibilities were an important part of his life.

  “Of course. I understand and would not like for our marriage to have any negative effects on your clan. I have many questions about it.”

  A bell rang and she knew it was her mother’s way of telling them to join them for dinner.

  They entered the dining room moments later to find Gideon and her father in an animated discussion about horse breeds.

  Her mother looked to her with a questioning gaze and Evangeline smiled and nodded. There was evident relief when her mother’s shoulders fell.

  “We have an announcement,” Camren said and lifted his wine glass. “Evangeline and I have decided to move forward with the wedding. We shall be husband and wife the day after tomorrow.”

  “Bravo,” her father said, lifting his glass. “Welcome to the family Laird Maclean.”

  “Please call me Camren. As you say, we will be family.”

  “I am so very happy,” her mother said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Finally.”

  Everyone laughed and drank from their glass.

  Evangeline’s heart expanded when her parents exchanged looks. They were very much in love and she knew they wished the same for her. Hopefully, the strong physical attraction between her and Camren would expand to something meaningful and rich.

  Of all the things she’d expected in her life, the last thing would have been to be marrying the most handsome man she’d ever known and to move away from London to a totally different country.

  Evangeline let out a breath and took a second sip of wine.

  Chapter Eleven

  Like the day before, this morning was beautiful. Birdsong wafted through her open bedroom window announcing the start of a new day. Evangeline stretched lazily, having lingered in bed longer than she normally would.

  Lucille had long given up and gone downstairs to seek Martha’s assistance in being allowed out.

  This would be her last morning waking in this house. The day would hold many firsts and many lasts. She planned to cherish each moment and not be hurried or bullied by the likes of Lucille, her mother or Martha. Even Camren would not be permitted to change her plans for the day.

  “Good morning, Evangeline.” Her mother, still in her dressing gown, entered the room and went to the window. She opened it wide and pulled the curtains open. “I ordered a perfect morning and I’m glad to see it was delivered.” She turned to her, smiling. “How do you feel this morning?”

  Evangeline sat up and fluffed the pillows so she could recline on them. “I am well. Not nervous. Not yet, anyway. I plan to take full advantage and enjoy each moment today.”

  “That is a wonderful plan.” Her mother lowered to the bed. “I think you will be happy. Camren seems to be a kind and reasonable man.”

  Although she didn’t know him or have any way to find out more since he wasn’t a Londoner, Evangeline could only go from what she’d experienced. “He is smart. I would venture to say he seems to be very fair. I am not sure about his temperament, but he does seem to have restraint.”

  There was a twinkle in her mother’s eyes. “And quite handsome, as well.”

  Evangeline chuckled. “There is that.”

  “I will miss you terribly. Your father barely got any sleep as I made him promise over and over again that we’d travel to Scotland regularly.”

  “Of course. I will also ensure Camren agrees that I come here, as well. He alluded that we’d spend an entire season here yearly.”

  “Wonderful,” her mother said with a wide smile. She stood and leaned forward to place a kiss on Evangeline’s forehead. “I love you, sweet girl.” It was a statement she’d often repeated for as long as Evangeline could remember.

  Instantly, tears formed and she blinked them away. “I love you, Mum.”

  “Now, would you like breakfast brought here or will you join your father and me in a bit?”

  “I will be down momentarily to share my morning tea with Martha. Then I will dress and meet you and father for breakfast as usual.”

  “Very well,” her mother replied, already leaving the room.

  If Martha was surprised when she entered the kitchen, she didn’t show it. Instead, she motioned to the tea kettle. “I made some wonderful chamomile with a sprinkle of lavender.”

  “Perfect,” Evangeline replied and poured the steaming liquid into a large cup. “I am going to enjoy our last morning, Martha. So tell me, how can I convince you to give me some of my favorite recipes?”

  The woman pushed a notebook toward her. The inexpensive, rough cover reminded Evangeline of Martha. Rough exterior but a heart of gold. “I am ahead of you, girlie. I wrote these down over the years so that on your wedding day, it would be my gift to you.”

  Evangeline gasped and held it to her chest. “Thank you. This will be like you coming with me.” She pushed from the table and rushed to Martha and hugged her.

  “Don’t make such a fuss now. I doubt the Scottish cook will be able to make them as good. But it’s something if she tries.” Martha dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her crisp apron. “I will miss these mornings with you, Miss Genie.”

  “I will, too,” Evangeline replied. “I doubt Mother would allow you to come with me.”

  “Nor would I want to leave London,” Martha said with a frown. “You will come visit often and that will be enough. Your marrying and moving to your own home are long overdue.”

  The rest of the morning passed quickly. Much too soon, it was time to get dressed for the ceremony, which was to take place in the garden. However, she lingered just a bit longer and watched the flurry of activity that had overtaken her home.

  Extra help had been hired to set up chairs and decorate, which Evangeline enjoyed watching from the parlor windows. The garden was transformed into a magical place.

  Tables with pastel clothes dotted the garden. Low vases spilling over with flowers had been placed on the center of each.

  Her mother and Fran rushed from one spot to another, ensuring all was done perfectly. On occasion, they would look to Evangeline, who smiled back to let them know everything was perfect.

  Rose and her mother arrived early. Her friend looked beautiful in a green, off the shoulder gown. “Why are you down here?” Rose hurried to her. “Your wedding is in two hours, there isn’t time for you to dawdle.”

  They went up the stairs where Bridget, the hairdresser, and Mrs. Marigold, the seamstress, sat drinking tea. They, too, peered out the window to all that was happening.

  Upon their entering, the women stood.

  “Miss Prescott, I was about to come see about you,” the hairdresser said with a warm smile.

  Evangeline neared and sat on the chair they’d set up in the center of the room facing a three-way mirror. “I apologize. It was so entertaining to see all the preparations.”

  “We, too, enjoyed all the goings-on,” the seamstress said as she looked over the gown that hung from the wardrobe.

  “Please, Bridget, I prefer a simple upsweep, nothing too elaborate. The ceremony is taking place in the garden, so I prefer not to be overdone.”

  The seamstress gawked at Evangeline. “Miss Prescott, the bride should always stand out and outshine them all. The gown calls for a beautiful hairstyle with complicated twists and curl falls.”

  Evangeline and the hairdresser exchanged knowing looks. “I will see to it that her hair is perfectly in sync with her gown. Don’t fret, Mrs. Marigold.”

  Thankfully, Bridget had done her hair for many an occasion and never failed to do exactly what Evangeline not only wished for, but styles that suited her perfectly.

  Once her hair was done, she allowed the women present to assist with the gown. It was a lovely cream creation of tulle that flowed gently from her waist out to form a tulip shape. At the ba
ck, there was a short tail, perfect for an outdoor wedding. The bodice was formfitting, the sleeves tight on her arms in a see-through floral lace. The gown had a scalloped neckline edged in ruffled satin.

  When she turned to look at herself, Evangeline’s eyes rounded. Was it really her? The woman looking back was splendid. Her eyes were a deeper rich green than usual, her cheeks pink from excitement.

  The cream-colored wedding dress fit her body perfectly, the color enhancing the peach tone of her skin.

  “Oh, Evangeline,” her mother said as she entered and neared. “You look beautiful.”

  “Camren Maclean will not be able to pull his eyes away,” Rose added.

  Mrs. Marigold lifted up the veil and the hairdresser held a delicate, small flower crown. “Mistress, you are just in time to help with her veil,” Bridget said.

  “Perfect,” her mother exclaimed and motioned for Rose to come closer. “We must help her to lower to this stool so we can put the flowers and veil on her head.

  The veil lay across her head, the ends draping down her back and the flowers went atop and pinned to not hinder the intricate hairstyle.

  Evangeline studied her reflection. She’d prefer not to have to wear the silly flowers or veil, but it was traditional, so she let it go without mention.

  “People have arrived,” Rose announced from the window. “I am going to step out and see who all is here.” She walked out to the balcony and peered down.

  Rose smiled widely and turned to Evangeline. “He’s down there. He looks splendid and a bit pale.”

  Her mother chuckled. “When he got here, I offered him brandy and he took it without hesitation. It seems the imposing Scot is a bit nervous.”

  “I can certainly relate,” Evangeline chastised them. “You shouldn’t make light of it. My stomach is in knots and, now that you mention it, I would love a bit of brandy myself.”

  She sipped the brandy, allowing the warm liquid to settle into her. Just as she let out a breath, there was a rap at the door.

  “It’s time,” her mother announced, seeming to suddenly become anxious herself.