Seduced by a Rogue

by Amanda Scott

  Mairi supposed the weather was what kept Rob from inviting her to ride. She doubted he was punishing her, and she missed his company. He brought up her supper Friday evening but excused himself with other duties the rest of the time.

  When he did come up, he brought Gibby with him. Annie was still there, too, so they had no opportunity for private talk.

  Saturday morning, as Mairi was wishing they could find such an occasion, she realized she did not know what she would say to him if they did.

  She and Annie were making such swift progress with the piecework that Mairi began to believe her bed would soon have a new quilt. But she had grown bored enough to ask Rob when he visited briefly Saturday evening—while Annie was still with her—if they might not go riding the next morning.

  “It will probably rain again,” he said.

  “We won’t dissolve, sir.”

  He agreed, and the following morning he came to escort her to the yard, where three horses awaited them, with Gibby mounted on the third one.

  Noting the absence of their usual gillie, Mairi shot Rob a look.

  When he did not meet it, she hid a smile. She had recalled the stern exception Gib had taken to Rob’s presence in her bedchamber when she had arrived, and the lad’s near threat to tell “Herself.” Clearly, Rob thought Gib stronger protection than a gillie. It was good, she thought, that Rob wanted to protect her even from himself.

  He put her on her horse and saw her settled with reins in hand before he turned to the boy. “Art comfortable enough, lad?”

  “Aye, sure,” Gib muttered with a grimace.

  “Do you not like to ride, Gibby?” Mairi asked.

  To her surprise, he flushed bright red as he gave her a quick nod.

  Rob’s lips twitched a little wryly, and he said, “I expect he has not yet told you that he has seen the river Annan and Annan town, my lady.”

  “Sakes, sir, surely you did not take him on that journey!”

  “I did not choose to take him. He told my helmsman I had given him permission to go. By the time I discovered him, we were in the bay, rowing for the Firth at the end of an ebb tide. The water was too low to get back to the cave. And to row back to Senwick’s beach would have meant leaving him on it. Such rarely exposed parts of our beaches can be unsafe, as I think I warned you.”

  “So you did,” she said, flashing Gib a sympathetic look as she added, “I hope you were not too harsh with him, sir.”

  “Not I,” Rob said.

  “The laird made me tell Fin Walters what I’d done,” Gibby said. “And now he’s a-making me ride this horse today. It ha’ been some few days now, though. So I ha’ nae doots it willna be so bad as it might ha’ been.”

  “Aye, well, I need you to protect me from the laird’s temper, Gib,” Mairi told him. “He’s none so pleased with me, either, I think.”

  Gibby looked ready to ask for details, but Rob intervened before he could.

  “I did not invite you along today to listen to you chatter,” he said. “You can follow behind us now. This track is too narrow for three abreast.”

  The boy fell back obediently, whereupon Mairi said quietly, “You were cruel to bring him, sir. Surely, our usual gillie would have been a better choice.”

  “I think you know I brought Gib because he’ll keep his mouth shut about aught we say but will speak up if he disapproves of aught I do,” he murmured back. “I do wish you would call me Rob when we can talk privately like this.”

  “Do you, sir?” she said with a smile.

  He shook his head, and they rode for another hour before black clouds billowing in the west again persuaded him to insist that they return.

  It occurred to Mairi only then that he might have had another reason to put off their ride for a few days. Casually, she said, “Is the knacker still here, sir? That shutter that blew open when I first arrived does not seem to fit properly now. It whistles whenever the wind blows hard.”

  “Dow left Thursday for Dumfries,” Rob said. “But I’ll have a look at that shutter for you later.”

  The wind had risen again by the time they reached the yard, and Mairi was glad to get back. They had conversed desultorily like friends. But the boy’s presence seemed to cast a damper on their usual easy conversation.

  She was sorry it had.

  Rob, too, was aware that something had been missing in their ride. But he was not sorry he had taken Gib along. He had hoped that if he saw less of Mairi each day, the feelings that had nearly undone him after her adventure in the cavern would ease if not disappear altogether. Instead they had intensified.

  No matter what he expected from her, no matter what he said to her, she had continually surprised him. Looking back, he marveled that she had never shown fear of him—wariness, but never fear. Moreover, she still seemed willing, despite that stolen kiss, to trust him not to harm her.

  He knew that her trust had affected him deeply then, that without it, he might have pressed for more than a kiss, even in the face of her softly murmured protest.

  He did not think of himself as an aggressive lover, nor had he ever taken an unwilling partner or one lacking experience. But experience told him that women often said no when they meant yes—especially when they protested softly.

  Thinking about that, he admitted that some of his previous partners might have felt obliged to please him. But most Scotswomen, especially Borderers, were outspoken enough to express their true feelings. He knew, too, that lairds who took unfair advantage of their people were likely to lose their respect.

  Mairi did not feel obliged to please him. Nor, despite telling him she had generally sought peace at home, did she seek peace with him by keeping silent. She listened and did not judge him even when he made her angry. She could be sharp-tongued, even caustic at times. But she never assumed the worst of him. She would say what she thought—bluntly perhaps, but without carping or grousing.

  He kept busy in the stable for some time after their return, going inside only as the servants were setting out supper. Fin Walters told him that Annie, having sent Gib down earlier to inquire about the laird’s whereabouts, had come down herself to collect the tray with her supper and her ladyship’s.

  Rob nodded, deciding it was just as well. He invited Fin to take supper with him so they could discuss a project Rob wanted to begin when the weather cleared.

  Their conversation continued over a fresh jug of whisky that Gib carried into the wee chamber behind the hall for them when they adjourned there as the men began to lay out pallets in the hall for the night. Fin then sent Gibby off to bed.

  By the time they bade each other goodnight, Rob felt sleepy enough to doze where he stood. Making his way to his bedchamber, he did no more than wash his face, strip himself, and fall into bed, where he slept deeply until a bright flash of light and an explosion of thunder woke him.

  Wind was screaming around the tower, sending icy fingers in through the unshuttered window that set the bed curtains swirling.

  Mairi was also asleep when the thunder crashed. But she awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright and shaking. She had left the east-facing window unshuttered from the day of her arrival, feeling no need to shut it even when it rained.

  Now, wind attacked the tower from all sides, roaring and howling as fiercely as ever she had heard it. Flashes of lightning, one after another, and deafening cracks of thunder punctuated the din, in a storm so turbulent that it shook the very walls.

  She had long hated big storms, especially in the hilltop Annan House, but she trembled at the force of this one. Trailinghail’s location high on the cliff, exposed to the strongest winds from the sea, magnified the storm’s effects. Reminding herself that the tower had withstood many such storms, that there was naught to fear, she sympathized with Tiggie when, trembling, he squirmed under an arm, into her lap.

  Despite her fear, she took a moment to soothe the kitten before getting up and grabbing her robe. Slipping it on, fighting to tie its sash with the wind madly bl
owing it awry, she turned toward the open window. As she did, she recalled her complaint to Rob that the other shutter whistled.

  It did whistle whenever the wind blew past it just so. But she had mentioned it only to give herself reason for asking about the knacker. Doubtless it was whistling now, but she could not hear it over the uproar outside.

  The wind raged from the east straight into her room. By the next lightning flash she saw that rain also poured in through the window.

  Just as she saw it, she stepped in a puddle on the floor and slipped.

  Struggling to keep her balance and avoiding most of the incoming rain, she grabbed the shutter, unhooked it, and was fighting the wind to close it when a crash of thunder much louder than the others made her duck and clap her hands to her ears.

  The shutter slammed and then crashed open again and against the wall, coming so near her head as she straightened that it brushed her hair. The wind had reached gale force when the door banged open and glowing light entered the room.

  Glancing toward it as she reached again for the shutter, she saw Rob’s unmistakable figure looming at the threshold with a covered lantern in one hand.

  “Get away from that window!” he shouted at her over another flash and its accompanying explosion of thunder.

  She stared at him, deafened and quaking, hoping he was real.

  Stepping in and quickly shutting the door to stop the wind’s headlong plunge down the stairway, Rob set the lantern on the settle and hurried to help Mairi.

  He was barefoot and had pulled on only his breeks when he’d recalled her damaged shutter. As soon as he did, he had rushed upstairs to be sure she was safe.

  She had not moved, and the wind was whipping her robe around her legs, baring them to her thighs unheeded. She just stared, so he said firmly, “Lass, get away from the window. That floor is wet, and the lightning is gey close and too dangerous. I’ve heard of it striking men who stood too near such high windows.”

  The wind still screamed and howled round the tower, louder in her room than in his, making the unlatched shutter bang back and forth while lightning bolts and explosions of booming, cracking thunder hurled themselves about outside.

  Wide-eyed, she had frozen there, unable or unwilling to move.

  He pushed past her and grabbed the thick shutter, forcing it shut and snapping its two hooks snugly into their iron eyes.

  Then he turned and took her firmly by the shoulders. “You’re safe now,” he said, pulling her closer. When she melted toward him, her arms opening, his hands slid from her shoulders to embrace her, and the rest of his body reacted instantly.

  “You’re trembling,” he murmured against her hair. “Ah, lassie, don’t be afraid. I’m here, and this tower has stood far worse. That shutter is sound, so the other must be the one that needs fixing. Sithee, I forgot till I heard that first great crash. But if you’ll get back into bed, I’ll see if I can fasten it better.”

  “There’s naught amiss with it,” she murmured against his bare chest, her arms tightening around his torso, her warm breath stirring new and wonderful sensations through his ever-willing body.

  But he heard her words and understood them.

  “You just wanted to know if there was still a chance you could get a message to the knacker,” he muttered back sternly, hoping that if she looked up, his body blocked enough of the lantern light to keep her from seeing his smile.

  Another crash sounded outside. The tower trembled in the wind, and she clutched him tighter. “I’m sorry I lied,” she said. “But don’t leave me yet.”

  Her shivers were from fear of the storm, he decided, not from cold.

  His cock stirred forcefully against his breeks, suggesting that the least he could do was divert her thoughts from the storm. Putting a hand to her chin, he tilted her face up, gazed searchingly at her, and when her lips parted, he kissed her.

  Her lips moved at once beneath his as they had the first time, and she moaned low in her throat. Needing no further invitation, he slid his hands over the silk robe, damp now and apparently all that she wore. He pressed her closer, enjoying the sensation of her soft, silk-clad breasts against his bare skin.

  Moving one hand to cup the back of her head, he thrust his tongue between her willing lips and began to explore the interior of her mouth. It was a moment before he realized that her soft hair was damp, too. Even so, he did not want to stop.

  She was responding with a passion equal to his, and he felt sure he could stop before things went too far.

  Before then, however… He moved his hand from her head down inside her robe to cup a warm silky breast. His thumb brushed over its nipple, drawing a soft moan. Her hands moved, too, caressing his sides and back until it was all he could do not to take her to the bed and ravish her.

  “’Tis so cold in here; mayhap we should get under the covers,” she murmured then, astonishing him and stirring his cock straight to attention.

  “That is not a good notion, lass, believe me.”

  “But my feet are freezing. You must be cold, too. And my robe is damp.”

  And she wore nothing underneath it.

  Another crack of thunder made her jump, although it sounded more distant, as if the storm were deciding to move on.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He picked her up and carried her to the bed, where the kitten sat, watching. As he laid her down beside it, the tower trembled in another fierce gust of the wind.

  “I should go,” he said.

  “No! Please stay.”

  “Lass, if I stay, I cannot trust myself to keep my hands off you.”

  “I don’t want you to,” she said. “I want you to stay, and I want you to go on touching me. I have never felt such things, and I want to know what you will do.”

  “But—”

  “Sithee, I doubt I shall ever marry. Even if I do, I may not be able to ask a husband the sorts of questions I know I can ask you. You will not tell me I do not need to know, as my father so often does. Even now, though he teaches me much about estates I may never own, he has told me naught about men and women.”

  “Has not your stepmother explained such things?”

  “Nay, only that a woman must obey her husband in all he says to do.”

  “All?” His cockstand became painful.

  “If you do not want to show me, mayhap you can just describe it for me.”

  He could scarcely breathe. His voice was hoarse as he said, “My lady, it would be my pleasure to show you if you are sure that is what you want.”

  “I am, aye.”

  Picking up the kitten, he put it outside the door and turned back, assuring himself that he could end things before he risked getting her with child. But once he had his breeks off and had climbed into bed with her, his body wanted her as much as his mind did, if not more fiercely.

  Mairi watched him stride to the door and put down the kitten, smiling when it spat at him. Rob made a powerful dark shape against the lantern glow. As he shut the door and went next to light candles from the lantern, his torso turned golden.

  Her body tingled where he had touched her. Her mouth still seemed full of him, the taste of him, and her breasts… He had touched only one, had thumbed its tip for less time than it took now for a flame to leap to life on the candle. Yet, she could still feel his touch, could still feel the heat of the flame he had lit there.

  It had spread to her very center, had warmed her all through. Was this what it felt like to be with any man, a husband? Something, some ill-wishing demon within her, whispered that it was not, that all men were different and one’s experience with any two was likely to be different, too. Still, coupling was coupling, a physical act that all animals knew how to do—or should know.

  Her thoughts stopped, and her body tensed again as he moved toward her.

  “Did you say your robe is damp?” he said, setting the candle in its dish.

  “Aye, a little.”

  “Then you should take it off and wr
ap yourself in your sheet. I’ll just slip under the blanket then.”

  “Aye, sure,” she said, beginning to slip off her robe.

  Rob turned his back, aware that he still felt the effects of the two jugs of whisky he had drunk with Fin, and knowing he could not trust himself if he saw her naked. Not with candle glow turning her lovely, silky, curvaceous body golden all over. By rights, he had no business staying one more moment. But he hungered for her, and she wanted him to stay. Moreover, she feared the still tumultuous storm.

  Sakes, it was the least he could do. Accordingly, he slipped under the coverlet as he was, feeling an absurd, cocky sense of having taken the place from the fierce little kitten. He chuckled at the absurdity of such a thought.

  “What is funny?” she asked as thunder rolled again outside.

  “I was just thinking that Tiggie must hate me right…” He paused, touched bare skin that was not his own. “I told you to cover yourself with the sheet.”

  “Did you? But I want you to hold me again, and it would get in the way.”

  It would, he agreed silently.

  Deciding he had protested enough, he gathered her close, turning onto his left side so he could hold and stroke her—to warm her. But he scarcely made it past her nearest elbow before he captured her mouth again.

  She responded as swiftly as she had before, stroking him wherever she could reach. When she caressed his chest, her fingers found a nipple, stopping his breath. Although it was not, by any means, the first time a woman had touched him there, Mairi’s touch went deeper than he could remember anyone’s going before.

  He rarely made verbal sounds when having sex and usually heeded his partner’s reactions only insofar as they would help get him to his goal.

  With Mairi, determined as he was to stop things before he might get her with child, he savored every feeling she created in him and paid much heed to how she reacted. He wanted to know which things he did stirred her most.

  When he took her right nipple between his lips, then between his teeth, she stopped stroking him and went still. He used his tongue then, laving her nipple, and delighted in the gasp he startled out of her.