by Lauren Smith
“Rosalind,” he said gently as he studied her more closely. She seemed unharmed, no bruises, but Ashton knew from Godric’s past that bruises could be easily hidden.
She turned to her brothers. “I will speak with him in the drawing room.” When it was clear to her that her brothers intended to stay by her side, she added, “Alone.”
“But—” the eldest protested.
“I’ll be fine, Brock. I’ll call if I need you.” She waved a hand for Ashton to follow her. He did, but he nearly stopped when the men blocking his way didn’t immediately move apart. Her brothers formed an impenetrable wall between Ashton and Rosalind.
“If you do even one thing that upsets her, we’ll feed you to the dogs. Even if you are a nobleman,” Brock warned in a low growl only Ashton and the two other brothers could hear.
“Understood.” Ashton had no intention of upsetting Rosalind, and if he did, then surely he would deserve any fate that came his way. The three Scotsmen finally parted to allow him to pass so he could follow Rosalind.
They entered the drawing room, and Ashton noticed the furniture was coated with dust and the fabrics were faded and outdated. The Kincades clearly hadn’t been able to keep their home in good condition. No doubt Lord Kincade saw Rosalind and her fortune as a way to restore their home to its former glory.
Rosalind stopped before the empty fireplace, her light-blue skirt stirring up dust as she turned to face him. He had a moment to admire the sloping grace of her neck and her lovely profile before she turned to him. A small ache that had been growing in his chest ever since she’d left had gotten even stronger now that he was close to her again. It never ceased to amaze him that this woman had captured his heart and dared him to dream about a better tomorrow.
“Rosalind, I’m here to rescue you.” It seemed that he was at a loss for words yet again. He moved towards her, arms outstretched, desperate to hold her and reassure himself she was safe and well. He came within a foot of her, but then she held up a hand.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare touch me.”
He halted, his boots skidding on the rug, and he stared at her, confused. She should want to see him, shouldn’t she? Before when she’d told him to go hang, he’d assumed her father had been issuing the orders and that once he was inside, she would be happy to see him.
“Rosalind, sweetheart…”
Her eyes glittered dangerously. “Sweetheart? Sweetheart? I’m no sweetheart of yours, you coldhearted, manipulative bastard.”
The barb struck him hard. What had happened between when he’d woken up from his fevered dreams to now? They’d been so happy together…
He replayed the events, going over every detail in his mind from when he’d awoken to when she’d been taken. A pit dropped in his stomach.
Charles. She’d heard him speak to Charles when she’d gone to get him some broth.
Lord, he’d dug his own bloody grave, hadn’t he? He’d said what he had to in order to appease Charles, but his words would have been damning to a woman who cared about him.
Her eyes shimmered as she spoke. “Say what you need to say and then leave.”
“Are you all right?” he asked. “When I heard you been taken I feared the worst. Is your father here?” If he was, Ashton would throttle him.
“My father?” For a moment her brows drew together. She hastily shook her head. “He is dead. He died a short time ago. I am in no danger.” Her voice softened, and he knew by the look in her eyes that she understood what he had feared.
I came for you. He silently begged that she could read his thoughts and trust him.
“Is that the only reason you came?” she asked.
It wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to make a fool out of himself over his bleeding heart.
“Or is it because you wanted these?” She pulled a stack of letters out from a secret pocket in her skirts.
He raised his brows. “What are those?”
“These are letters between my father and Sir Hugo Waverly. Ones that will prove he was a spy who helped destroy a Scottish uprising ten years ago.” Rosalind stared down at the letters and then up at him. “You had no idea these existed, did you?” Her hesitation made him strangely relieved. She thought he’d come after her for some letters…and then the rest of what she’d said sank in.
These letters were proof of Hugo’s actions that would sink the man’s career as a spy and put a mark upon his back for the rest of his life. Ashton’s hand twitched with the urge to reach for them, but he did not move. He sensed this was a trap, one in which he would not have both of his desires.
Choose one and I shall lose either way.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ashton was here. He’d come for her. And yet all she could think was how angry she was with him.
He stood there looking down at her with those piercing blue eyes. Eyes that had widened with surprise when he’d realized just what she had in her possession. He hadn’t known about these letters, but no doubt he suspected she had something on Waverly that he could use. That had been the whole point of his seduction, hadn’t it?
He couldn’t have come just for me. I’m a pawn to him, a piece to be moved about a chessboard.
The bundle of letters seemed to burn her skin, and she couldn’t bear to hold the weight of them a moment longer.
Again she considered, for just an instant, that she ought to demand something in return, like his most profitable shipping company in addition to the return of all that was rightfully hers. A symbolic victory of sorts over him. But the truth was, she didn’t want a reminder of him once he walked out of her life. If he wanted the letters, he could bloody well have them.
Even if it damns my family, I want nothing more to do with them—or him.
“Do what you will with them.” She stepped forward and smashed the letters against his chest. She wanted to throw them in his face, make him feel how she felt right at that moment, her heart shattering. Yet she couldn’t deny that part of her heart still betrayed her, begging to be close to him for just a moment longer.
Ashton grasped her wrist, not allowing her to retreat, the bundle of letters still clutched in her hand. The sudden move made her shiver, not out of fear, but desire. In the last few days without him, she had started to fade from within, and now his touch was setting fire to her senses all over again. A fire that threatened to turn her heart to ashes if she didn’t protect herself.
He will always be like this for me. The man I want and can never have. The one who brought me to life and left me all alone.
She stared up into his eyes, hating him for how he made her feel, loving him for how he made her feel.
His other hand curled around her lower back. It reminded her of when they had waltzed at the country ball, the way they’d fit perfectly together. Bittersweet memories fluttered behind her eyes as she closed them tight, wishing she didn’t have to be strong. But she had to. She jerked in his hold, trying to get free. But could she ever truly escape the man who had broken her heart?
*****
“Stop.” Ashton tried to calm his racing heart and focused on how good it felt to have her back in his arms, even if she was spitting like a wet polecat.
“No! Let me go!” She tried to tug loose, eyes full of that Scottish fire he’d come to love.
He held fast. “Not until you listen to me.” Lord, he just needed to say it. So much for not being a bloody fool. If he said what he needed to say, it would take a weight off his shoulders if nothing else. And if she returned to London with him, he would be the luckiest fool in the world.
“I didn’t come here for the letters. I didn’t even know they existed until just now. I came here for you. Come back with me, Rosalind.”
Whatever she’d expected him to say, that clearly hadn’t been it. Her brows drew together and her lips parted. Her look of surprise and confusion was adorable. He wanted to kiss the tiny lines above her brow and ease the worry shadowing her eyes.
“What?”
/> “I want you, Rosalind. That has never changed. Everything I said and promised to you was all true. I want only you.” He rubbed his fingers along her wrists as her hands still pressed the letters to his chest. He would let the letters go if it won her back. She was more important. I can find another way to bring Hugo down, but I cannot lose her.
Her long dark lashes fanned up, and she glared at him through stony eyes.
“All of it was true?” Her tone turned dangerously silky, and her brogue thickened slightly.
Hell and damnation, he was treading on dangerous ground. He recognized that tone. His hellion was furious with him. But he would not lie to her.
“Yes.” He waited to hear the coffin lid snap shut on his fate.
She met his stare with a pulsing ferocity. “I will never be a puppet or a tool for any man. Do you understand me? There will be no more strings for you to pull, Lord Lennox.”
His name upon her lips sounded like a curse, and he felt sick all over again. A puppet? The memory of the night he’d said those words was a bleak one. While he had intended to use Rosalind to destroy Waverly, he wouldn’t have put her in harm’s way or done anything without first telling her the truth. All of it.
He sighed, his shoulders heavy with the weight of his secrets.
“I was being manipulative, but not toward you. I needed Charles to be at ease. It was always my intention to tell you what I know about Waverly before we acted. I wanted to tell you everything, but I also had to know how you felt about me before I could.” If he was ever going to win her back, he had to tell her the parts of his life that made his soul bleed, starting with the night in the river Cam.
She raised her chin. “I don’t want any more pretty words from you, Lord Lennox.”
“Woman, will you hear me out for one bloody minute?” If she said she wouldn’t, he was tempted to kiss her—it was the only way he could silence that spirited creature into submission, at least for a few moments.
She narrowed her eyes, and he sighed.
“Please, Rosalind. I need to tell you. Hear me out, and then you can send me on my way.”
Rosalind glanced away and then back at him. Her body’s tension eased in his hold.
“Do you remember how I told you someone tried to drown Charles? That he was bound and gagged and carried to the river?”
Rosalind nodded.
“That man was Waverly, and he vowed revenge for that day for foiling his plans. For a long time we thought nothing of him—our titles and privileges saw to that. We became complacent, not realizing that Hugo, now Sir Hugo, had been biding his time. Waverly has been trying to kill us and those we love in one way or another for the last year. When I learned he was partnering with you, I thought I might learn something of his actions through you. The man’s resources go far beyond those of a simple businessman, yet other than that we know little of what he’s capable of. As he invested in your ventures, I saw an opportunity. I knew I could use your connection to him to draw him out and, with luck, learn things that could keep us safe from him. But then you bewitched me, and I became afraid to put you in harm’s way.”
She stiffened in his arms. “I bewitched you?”
“Yes, my little hellion. You were the perfect partner, the perfect woman, even the perfect enemy when you were so inclined. I didn’t want to lose you, and I knew once I shared everything with you, you might walk away. That’s why I waited so long to tell you.” He didn’t add how he would have chased her to the ends of the earth to convince her she was the only woman in the world for him.
He swallowed hard and spoke. “I was going to tell you the truth and let you decide whether you wished to help us. I would never have forced you on that matter.”
“Of course you would have, you arrogant Sassenach,” she muttered, trying to turn away from him, but he pulled her closer.
“Your safety as the woman I love will always come first,” he said fiercely. “No schemes of revenge or business matters will ever be more important than that.”
Her eyes widened, and he saw a glimmer of doubt in them that tugged at his heart. “Do not say things you don’t mean. I have no illusions. I’m not the sort of woman that a man would feel that way about. I’m…” Her lip trembled. Did she not believe she could be loved or desired?
“I mean every word. I would protect you with my dying breath if you let me.”
She shook her head. “I mean when you speak of love.”
Everything inside Ashton went still, like a summer’s day when there was no breeze and yet the sun wasn’t too hot. He had said the words, hadn’t he? They had come so easily. Not out of manipulation or word play or saying what one had to in order to gain some advantage. It had been a simple statement of fact. It was the purest realization he’d ever had. He did love her. So much that it had made him irrational.
“You speak of love when you mean duty or honor,” Rosalind countered, not wanting to accept his words at face value.
Ashton smiled, and the exhaustion from the last two days lessened. He let go of her wrist and cupped her face in his hands.
“No. I speak of love because it is love that I feel. I love you, my little hellion.”
Rosalind’s gray eyes, once full of hate, and then doubt, were now filled with worry. “You cannot.” She bit her lip, and he could barely hold his control over himself.
“Yet I do. So much so that I question every decision I make, asking myself if it’s what’s best for you. When you left”—his voice deepened—“I was half mad with fear.”
She looked down at where the letters lay on the floor. “Only because I have what you need.”
“Yes, you do.”
Rosalind looked back at him in shock.
“You have my heart.”
She peeked up at him through her lashes. “No man has ever gotten under my skin like you, Lennox.” She stood up on tiptoes and curled her arms around his neck. Excitement flooded through him.
“Please. Tell me you love me.” He closed his eyes for a brief instant, needing to hear those words more than he’d ever needed anything in his life.
“I do. God help me, I do love you, you stubborn man.” She feathered her lips over his, and in that moment he swore if he had wings, he could fly.
Ashton returned the kiss, pulling her close, refusing to ever let his Scottish lass walk out of his life again. He teased her lips apart and tenderly ravished her mouth. He wanted to claim her right there, but with her brothers waiting outside it was hardly a wise course of action.
When he finally broke the kiss, Rosalind was leaning into him, her eyes dreamy, as if she too could barely keep her urges in check. That was what bewitched him, knowing that when they kissed it made them both become fools.
But we shall be fools together.
Ashton held on to Rosalind, and she curled into him, neither wanting to separate. He rubbed his hands along her back, trying not to think about all the worries that were building in his mind. He needed to convince her to come home to London. Then, most importantly, he had to prepare all of her property, companies and debts to be freed from his control and given back to her, even after they married.
“Will you come back to London?” He made it a question, because this had to be her choice.
She gazed at him, pensive.
“I should add that if you do not, then I will move to the castle here. I’m not sure your brothers will be thrilled to have someone like me underfoot, but I’m not letting you go. Not again.”
“You would move into a drafty old castle far away from your family and friends?” Hope filled her tone as though she was afraid and excited to believe what he was saying.
“For you I would.” He would leave his entire world behind for her. Of course, he knew that keeping the League out of Scotland would be impossible. Within a fortnight they’d all have bought summer cottages nearby.
Rosalind brushed a fingertip down his cheek, her lips curving in a gentle smile. “My life has been in England for a long time n
ow. London is my home. Now you are my home.”
His heart skipped a beat. It simply couldn’t handle the sudden surge of joy in his body.
“I suppose I ought to tell my brothers,” she added. “They are ready to disembowel you.”
“Because I want to marry you?” He supposed he couldn’t blame them for being overprotective.
She wrinkled her nose and tried to hide a smile. “Waverly told them you were hurting me and forcing me into marriage. That’s why they came to rescue me from your dastardly clutches.”
Ashton shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.” But if that’s what her brothers thought about him, no wonder they wanted to kill him. He would do the same to any man he thought would hurt his sister.
“I know it is.” She leaned into him, embracing him once more before she bent down to pick up the letters. “You should take these. They are written in code, but my father sent me the cipher before he died. It should be in my chambers at Lennox House.” She pressed the packet of letters into his free hand.
Ashton accepted them, his smile fading. “Rosalind, if these letters implicate your father as a traitor to his people and I use them to out Waverly, you and your family will be social pariahs. They might even be investigated by the Crown. I don’t—”
She shook her head and pressed his lips shut with a fingertip. “Stopping a man like Waverly is more important. My family can weather the storm. Now, stop arguing with me.” She turned and went to the drawing room door. Her skirts swirled at her ankles, and she looked every inch the fiery Scottish lass he knew her to be.
My Scottish lass.
When she opened the door, it struck something hard. Someone grunted out a Gaelic curse.
“Brodie!” Rosalind chastised her brother, and Ashton coughed to cover a laugh when he watched all three of Rosalind’s brothers scrambling away from the door.
He couldn’t blame them for eavesdropping. He and his friends had done the same thing once with Godric and Emily.