by Fiona Faris
Erik hit the ground hard, rolling across the dirt until his back hit a crate. The breath knocked out of him, he lay there hissing in pain. He took some time to collect himself before pushing up into a sitting position. The resulting pain and injury he sustained aggravated his temper, and he turned sharply to glare at the fool who dared interrupt his tryst.
He stiffened at the hulking figure marching towards him. The shadows of the alley and the lamplight behind the figure obscured his features, but Erik could very well guess who it was. Despite the intimidating approach, the sight of the mushroom nearly made him laugh. He started to his feet, intent on teaching the boy a lesson.
“Heh. That was a nice toss, mushroom. But I’m afraid the lady, and I were— “
His threat never made it from his mouth.
A hand shot out and closed around his throat, cutting off his air. Fear pierced the bandit’s heart at the terrifying rage contorting the man’s features.
Back in the tavern, Erik had dismissed him as a clumsy and childish pink, a low-born mushroom dangling after his betters. Nothing to worry about...
Now, however, he looked nothing like a boy . . . and everything like a nightmare.
Chapter Fifteen
Ethan had finished his conversation with Fergus, feeling suddenly uneasy about letting Georgiana retire to their rooms alone. It was quite late, and she would have to go outside to use the stairs to climb up to the chambers.
“Ye worry too much, man,” Fergus clapped him on the back, an amused look on his face. Ethan simply glared, and Fergus shook his head. “Go on then. Make sure yer bride has managed tae climb the stairs unmolested.”
Ethan knew he was joking, but he felt a shiver through him at his friend's words and left quickly. The alley was dark even though light shone from several upper story windows. No doubt Georgiana was up there; perhaps she had woken her lady’s maid to unfasten her gowns.
Ethan felt another pang of regret. He quite enjoyed undoing Georgiana’s laces and helping her to unhook her corsets and such. It was fascinating to him. He was absolutely sure that none of the women at Daltern – save perhaps for Herself – wore so many layers and had so much to undo.
He was diverted for a moment, with his thoughts of Georgiana in her shift, so it was a while before he heard the muffled yells coming from across the street. He frowned, hesitating, but in the end, he had to go and see.
His vision darkened with rage and adrenaline shot through his body when he saw his bride being restrained by a man dressed like a fop and yet his clothes were old, ragged and tattered. He leaped forward, grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt as well as his cloak and pulled him off Georgiana.
He began to say something, but Ethan could not hear him. All he could see were Georgiana’s terrified eyes and her shaking hands. He saw how she could not hold herself upright but fell to the ground, and the urge to kill surged within him like a hurricane.
He flung the man to the ground and loomed over him. The man turned, seemingly wanting to say something, but Ethan didn’t want to hear him and clapped the man across the jaw before picking him up and banging his head repeatedly against the brick wall.
He fisted his hand and rammed it into the man’s nose before bending his knee and smashing it between the man’s legs. It took him a while to realize that Georgiana was calling to him, the ringing in his ears was so loud.
“Enough!” she breathed, and he turned at once to her, kneeling over her in concern.
“Are ye alright?”
She shook her head and coughed. “T-take me to our chambers, please.”
As delicately as he could, he picked her up off the ground.
“I can walk,” she whispered.
“Well that’s good,” he murmured and continued to carry her. Their room was on the first story, and it did not take long to get there.
“I think I dropped the key,” she said in a low, miserable voice.
“Dinna fash. I’ll just go and get one.” He took a step away from her, and she grabbed at his arm.
“No! Don’t leave me.”
He hesitated, wondering what to do for the best. Then he remembered that Misty was in the adjoining room. “Shall I get yer lady’s maid to go?”
She nodded jerkily.
Keeping his eye on her, he slowly took the two steps that would bring him to Misty’s door and knocked.
“Yes, who is it?” the lady’s maid answered at once.
“Uh, tis uh, Mr. Buchanan? Yer lady needs ye.”
Immediately, the door was unlocked, and Misty was there. “What’s the matter?”
Ethan shook his head. “We need ye to go down and get the innkeeper. Tell him we’ve lost the key for our chambers and would like another.”
“Yes, sir.” She scurried down the stairs, pausing only for a moment to frown at Georgiana’s hunched form.
“She’s verra obedient,” Ethan added before coming to gather Georgiana back in his arms.
“Not really. But I suppose she was responding to your tone. You sounded quite commanding.”
Ethan was only too glad that she felt well enough to joke with him. “Oh, aye? D’ye like it when I sound commanding?”
She simply buried her head in his shoulders. “It has its uses.”
* * *
Georgiana groaned loudly, her hands blindly grasping the sheets below her as she tried to recall exactly how it was she ended up with her face pressed into the feather bed at the inn. They had gone to bed soon after the innkeeper let them into their chambers. Georgiana had given herself a good scrubbing before getting into bed. Ethan sat with her and watched, folding her into his embrace afterward, with gentle hands and soft eyes.
She had woken from a nightmare and grabbed onto him, wanting to be as close as possible, wishing to supplant one awful memory with another, better one.
“Shh, dearest. We mustn’t wake the others. The walls are quite thin here, aye?”
Georgiana could feel Ethan’s smile warm against the curve of her pale shoulder just before his teeth sunk into her flesh, provoking a cry that could undoubtedly be heard down the street. He languidly licked the spot, pacifying the mark he’d left as he slowly thrust further into her.
“Ethan, if you don’t—”
“Dinna, what, my love?”
His hips moved, and he went deeper inside her.
“What d’ye want, my love? D’ye want it slower? Or faster?”
His hips jerked forward hard in the final thrust until he was buried as deep as Georgiana’s body would allow.
She whined as her legs scrabbled uselessly against the floor… the rest of her sprawled over half the bed.
Ethan interrupted her thoughts when he withdrew from inside of her slick walls that were reluctant to release him. His warm breath huffed over her ears, making her shiver.
“Come, love, ye ken I want to hear ye. Want to ken that ye want this as ye said ye did. What do I want to hear?”
Georgiana gasped open-mouthed into damp sheets as he barely thrust into her, keeping it shallow, refusing to give her what she needed. His bulbous head teased at her entrance, its wet tip used only as a weapon to increase her arousal and torture the words he wanted to hear out of her. His voice reverberated through her again.
“Ye ken what I want. I’ll let ye have it if only ye’ll just say it.”
Georgiana’s lips, dry from her open-mouthed gasps, spread wide. She inhaled deeply, preparing to break her silence but was derailed when Ethan split her like a peach and let her feel the stretch of him.
“Ethan,” she said, the final syllable of his name drawn out in a whimper.
He sheathed himself snugly inside her with a groan. “Aye, love, that’s it. Say my name.”
“Ethan, please. Please.” Georgiana breathed into the mattress. “Please . . .”
His wish granted, Ethan languidly pulled out of her before thrusting into her again and adopting a slower pace. His mouth hovered over her cheek before landing on her brow and pepp
ered it with soft kisses in stark contrast to his fiery plunder of her insides.
Ethan grabbed one of Georgiana’s wrists, pushing her further into the bed, bringing his other hand under them both to stroke her heated core, making Georgiana jump from the contact. Ethan pressed on, circling her nub, gauging Georgiana’s gasps of pleasure as she squirmed beneath him.
“Oh, oh, Ethan—”
“Aye, that’s it. Are ye close?”
Georgiana’s hair matted further under her as she moved her head in answer. “Yes. Oh, by God, yes. Please.”
Ethan’s hand disappeared from her center only to come down on her backside. Georgiana yelped, arousal dampened enough to pay attention.
“Now, what did we promise to say?” Ethan rubbed the light red mark soothingly, inserting his thumb into the cleft of her buttock, pressing lightly, before making a teasing glide over the surface of her hole.
Georgiana bit her lip, hard, trying to gather her thoughts enough for the speech Ethan was asking from her. “Please . . . Ethan.”
She knew she had done well when he lightly tapped her on the behind before trailing around to tease her nub as his thick member split her in two with increasing velocity.
He was close, his member filling with his seed as his body prepared to fill her.
Georgiana shuddered, lost in the feel of his iron hardness while his lips gave her soft gentle kisses outside. She slanted her head even more, urgently reaching for his lips with her own.
Their lips met in a kiss that was more air than pressure, but neither cared. Georgiana canted her hips up into him, letting Ethan slip further inside with each thrust, her breathy sighs in concerto with his low grunts harmonized with her chanting his name, over and over again.
The fingers gliding over her wetness were the final impetus for her undoing. Her walls quivered in warning before clamping down hard around Ethan, pulling him further into her with each pulse of pleasure she experienced. Georgiana’s vision blurred as the world exploded around her, vaguely aware of Ethan’s final push and grunt of release. Only the sudden warmth of his seed flooding into her registered somewhere in her pleasure-soaked brain that he had also found his release.
It was a while before Ethan found the strength to move off her and lean back to admire the mess he’d made. Georgiana’s eyes were already fluttering closed, a soft smile flickering on her lips as the tautness between her eyebrows faded.
He lifted her with care, cleaned them both with a wet cloth before settling them onto the dry side of the bed.
Georgiana murmured incoherently, burrowing into him with an arm thrown over his chest. She kissed his cheek and brow then lay against his shoulder, cuddling into his warmth.
A wry smile on his face, Ethan brushed his lips across Georgiana’s forehead, tucking her closer to him.
“Sleep well, my love. Sleep deep and dream of your happiest days. These idyllic days might be behind us soon.”
Georgiana moved, startling Ethan into letting her put space between them so she could regard him sleepily, her head propped on her hand.
“My darling Ethan, I covet time with you regardless of the events of earlier this evening. That has not changed, and I pray it never does. Remember that.”
Closing her eyes on the last word, Georgiana cuddled back into Ethan’s arms, kissed his neck below his sharp ear, and settled for sleep.
Ethan sighed, tangling their legs together as he turned into the woman beside him, content for another night together.
* * *
The duke was giving them the run- around. Lachie had not been sure before, but he was fairly certain now. His father did not want to hear it.
“We canna rush this. We mun’ wait on his time.”
Lachie was not one to cater to other people’s whims. When they had arrived at Bellingwick, the duke had been quite surprised to see them, as if he had not brokered the marriage between his daughter and Lachie.
After the lukewarm welcome, he had exhorted them to rest from their journey, putting them up in a cottage in the grounds rather than the main house!
What disrespect! Lachie did not know who he was angrier at. The duke for his apparent snub or his father for merely accepting it. He knew that they could not do anything to antagonize this union, but still, his father might try not to seem so much like a poor relation, hat in hand, hoping for a handout.
Even though that was precisely what they were doing.
After three days of spurious engagements and vapid conversation, Lachie finally asked the obvious question.
“Where is my bride?”
The duke and duchess had exchanged a loaded glance before the duke had replied. “She is…away from home at the moment. We have written a letter to her and expect that she will be back as soon as she can. If you had let us know that you were coming, we might have been more prepared.”
Lachie narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Away ye say? Where has she gone to on her own?”
The duchess sighed. “She is not on her own. Our daughter is a lady and, as such is always properly chaperoned.”
Lachie opened his mouth to dispute that, but his father cleared his throat loudly. “How many days do ye expect it shall tak’ for my son’s bride tae arrive. We wish to get them marrit as quick as possible, so that we may travel back before the roads get too bad.”
“Oh, yes, we do understand.” The duchess added, giving her husband another look. His Grace got to his feet. “Well, I shall just go and write another letter, and bid them make haste.”
“Thank ye, Yer Grace,” Barclay added and shot Lachie a reproving glance when he grunted sullenly.
Finally, on the fifth day of their visit, the duke called them to his office. He sighed as they came in and bade them sit.
“I have…some…well, it is not good news,” he said.
Lachie grunted. I knew it.
“I have been trying to reach my daughter in the last few days to acquaint her of your presence. So far, I have received no word from her. I fear I have a tale to tell, and you will not like it.”
Chapter Sixteen
He noticed that while they were on the road, Georgiana tended to stay close to him. It did not seem to matter if Misty or Fergus were around, she only seemed to feel safe with Ethan.
He had no complaints. Things could certainly be worse than his wife clinging to him for dear life. But he did not want her to be afraid, or for her first experience of Scotland to mar her view of his land. He wanted her to feel at home… to embrace this new place and make it her own.
They arrived at Eastcairn Fortress, their new home, the next evening. The fortress had been used as an English garrison post during the Stuart wars but had been sold to a loyalist soon after the defeat at Culloden. Fortunately for him, the loyalists family had died out, and the property put up for sale.
The duke had purchased it in his daughter’s name and sent his man of business to ensure that it was habitable while they honeymooned in the south of France. Mr. Grahame was an obliging fellow who had been all too happy to conduct a bit of business for Ethan as well.
The property was advantageous in that it already had a working garden from the time it had been a garrison. The loyalist had made sure to cater to the fort’s upkeep, and so there was not much that needed to be done. The house had an internal plumbing system where water was pumped to the upper floors using a pulley system. Ethan could not believe he had not known about it considering that it was less than three miles from Daltern.
It did not take long for the villagers and crofters of Daltern to hear of his arrival. For one thing, Georgiana wanted to do as much of her purchasing from local vendors as she possibly could. This meant that butchers and bakers, flower girls, and mantua-makers were lining their service entrance to sell their wares.
“We need a housekeeper,” Georgiana announced two days later at breakfast, “Misty is run off her feet.”
“O’ course. If ye want a housekeeper, ye shall have one.” Ethan had no idea how to go abo
ut getting a housekeeper, but his mind went to Mrs. Campbell who was undoubtedly suffering along with the other crofters. As their housekeeper, she would be guaranteed all the meals she could possibly want. “I think I have someone in mind.”
Georgiana nodded. “Well, good. Tell her to be here tomorrow morning so I can have an interview with her.”
“Interview? That isna necessary, Georgiana. She’s a capable woman.”
“Yes, she might be, but we need to get along.”
“I’m sure she’ll love ye. How could she no?”