To Tempt A Highland Duke: A Scottish Romance Novella

by Bronwen Evans

  Angus’s eyes suddenly widened, and a smile lit his face. “I think you must be in love with Flora.” At his genuinely puzzled frown Angus added, “She was married for five years and had no offspring. It could have been Iain’s problem, but it is a risk for a duke to marry a woman who has been wed for such a long time yet has failed to beget an heir. You must love her if you can overlook this.”

  His gut clenched at the lie he was not denying. It was precisely this reason he could risk marrying her, and could risk giving her his heart. She likely could not give him a child. He had come to terms with what that meant years ago when he’d decided to never marry. He had a large extended family with many cousins, and he even liked some of them. And he had Connor. He did not care about the title. His father had taught him that the title meant more than a person’s life, and he could not live like that. He had plenty of time to train his cousin Derek to do his duty.

  “So, you are not opposed to a betrothal between myself and Flora?”

  “I already think of you as a brother. I would be honored to align our two families as it should have been many years ago.”

  Relief flooded through him. Not once had Angus seemed concerned that Dougray’s first wife had died in childbirth, but then Angus was a large man and had several children. Tessa, his wife, was a largess woman. Flora was not as small as Connie, but she wasn’t as robust as Tessa. Thank goodness he’d never have to find out.

  “I will treasure her and look out for her until my last breath.”

  “I know you will. However, there is one wee fly in your ointment. I will not command her or force her to wed you. She would not listen to me, anyway.”

  This time Dougray laughed. “Are you saying she will deny me?”

  “Women don’t think like us. Flora is not a young starry-eyed girl. As a widow, she knows what she wants out of her next marriage. You spurned her once, she will be wary. She was hurt, and she has her pride.”

  “But I love her!”

  “You’ve had a funny way of showing it. I doubt she’ll want to compete for your affections, and no lady likes to be made a fool of. Your recent affair with Lady Carissa is still fresh in everyone’s memory. You should have been celibate for months, then she might believe you love her.”

  “I won’t dishonor her. I love her and once we are wed… Besides, I think I can persuade her.”

  That made Angus really laugh. “Your charm won’t work on my sister. She knows you too well. Honesty. That’s what she will require.”

  He wondered if Angus noticed him flinch. He could not afford honesty. If they learned why he chose Flora, Sir Walter Scott would see him married off to some other virginal young lady and Dougray would have no choice in his lifelong partner.

  Angus finished his drink and stood. “Come. If you are serious, then best you woo tonight. I’m going to find my wife in the ballroom. Flora is likely to be with her and Mary. It’s time to see what response your arrogance in leaving this so late, brings.”

  Chapter 4

  The mood on this hot summer evening was festive as the excitement of the King’s visit built. The thronged ballroom swirled with Scotland’s elite, dressed in their finery and jewels. The warm evening saw the doors of the Palace ballroom opened to the terrace, with the impressive rose garden below, allowing the perfumed floral scents to drown out the smell of overheated bodies.

  Unfortunately, Flora stood on the opposite side of the ballroom near the entrance to the card room where the heat and accompanying smells were stifling. She was standing here hoping to waylay Dougray when he finally exited—if he exited. She had her arm tucked through Lady Claire’s. She was hoping Dougray would appear from the card room like most of the other men had during the evening so she could manipulate an introduction. Lady Claire would make him a fine wife. She was one of the prettiest debutantes, clever, her father was a wealthy Earl, his estate was near Glasgow, and most of all she was kind.

  Both Mary and her agreed, the woman who would become Dougray’s wife had to be kind, because they would want her to accept Connor. Since Connie was well in the past, and Dougray had recognized his son, both ladies hoped any wife would not see Connor as a threat.

  Just then a servant arrived with a silver tray, offering them much needed refreshments. She let go of Claire’s arm and accepted a glass. She thanked the servant with a nod before turning her back on the card room to observe the rest of the ballroom.

  Flora scanned the guests, not sure who she was looking for. While she kept her demeanor outwardly cheerful, her mood was anything but. It was as if she understood the rest of her life would now start her down a path that in some small part of her heart she’d hoped would be different.

  When her husband had died from a bee sting of all things, she wondered if Dougray would come for her. She’d waited patiently for her year of morning to finish. And then waited. And waited. He had written to her expressing his condolences, but nothing more. In the two years since, he was friendly when they met, but nothing more.

  Until earlier today when he had flirted with her in the dining room. What did that mean?

  She took a depth breath, trying to keep the disappointment at bay. Yet all the revelry, sights, sounds, and tastes of the most exciting night in Scottish history could not shake a strange feeling of detachment.

  “Is there someone in particular you are looking for?” Lady Claire asked. “You are staring with a determination I’ve not seen this evening.”

  Mary arrived just as Claire spoke. “Lord Glengarry is on the terrace. He asked after you,” Mary replied with a wink.

  Lady Claire immediately thought Glengarry was whom Flora was hunting, when in fact she had no idea who, or what, she wanted.

  Liar. You want Dougray for yourself. She inwardly sighed and smiled at the women’s teasing, not bothering to dispossess them of their matchmaking. Lord Glengarry would be a more than a suitable match for her. He has young children, two boys and a girl, plus an older son, so would most likely not care if she were barren. He was rich, handsome, only a few years older than her, and he appeared to be a nice man. She should be honored at his interest.

  But her heart was not in it. Her bottom lip trembled. She doubted her heart would be in any match because it only held room for Dougray.

  She hoped that when Dougray finally married, she’d be free of his hold, finally knowing that he could never be hers. At the moment her life was at a standstill, still hoping for a miracle. Hoping that one-day he would declare he still loved her. When he finally married, maybe then she could forget him and find a love match she so desired.

  Lady Claire looked at Mary and then at Flora. “You have been inside all evening, Lady Flora. Why don’t you get some fresh air on the terrace while Lady Mary and I find her husband? I want to thank him for a kindness he did for my father recently. We shall join you outside shortly.”

  She knew they were being kind, but she really did not want to face Lord Glengarry. She did not wish to give the man any encouragement until she knew her mind on the matter.

  Mary gave her a small push. “Go on. There are many guests out on the terrace, there is nothing untoward in seeking fresh air.”

  Flora excused herself with a discreet murmur, and with cheeks blazing in embarrassment at their obvious plan, she walked at a sedate pace, toward a future she did not want. Her steps slowed the closer she got to the open doors. Her fingers played with the pearls at her neck as her throat tightened. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the women were no longer watching her, so she ducked sideways and hurried toward the grand curved staircase. Upon walking upstairs, she crossed the long portrait gallery and through a few more corridors until she found the small library.

  Without thinking, she lifted the latch and slipped inside. Several lamps had been lit around the room and the windows at the far end were open, letting in a cool breeze. She drifted towards the fresh air, not really taking in the room at all.

  She stood by the window, her hands on the windowsill, taking de
ep gulping breaths, trying to quell the hopelessness beginning to overwhelm her.

  “Sensible minds think alike.”

  She jumped out of her skin, turning at the familiar velvety voice. Her heart sped as her eyes found his.

  Like a virginal girl, she could not get her mouth to work. She stood mesmerized by Dougray’s beauty. He always looked magnificent in his formal attire, but tonight as he sat sprawled on the couch, his midnight blue jacket covering a burgundy waistcoat, with his cravat hanging untied at his throat, his handsome face looked wicked, and dangerous, but so inviting. Her feet wanted to dance across the space dividing them, daintily tumbling her into his lap.

  Raven-haired, deep-set blue eyes, coupled with his iron physique, caused her knees to tremble. She’d never wanted him more.

  Was she fooling herself or was his self-assured stare full of heat and desire? She needed to sit down.

  “I was about to come and find you. I was merely having a few drams for courage.” He patted the settee beside him. With a hint of a devilish smile tugging at one corner of his tempting mouth, he said in a whisper that intimately flowed down her spine, “Take a seat before you fall down.”

  She could not move. She could barely breathe.

  Pinned by his piercing stare, she shivered at the force of the unbridled sensuality in his beautiful eyes. What was he playing at? Lady Claire. Think of Lady Claire.

  It was no use. From halfway across the room, the heat of him seemed to engulf her. The enveloping visceral reaction took her by surprise. She’d been alone with him plenty of times and been able to control her response to him. Why was tonight different? Her heart lurched as he gave a knowing smile. “I prefer to stand thank you, I love the fresh air.”

  “You’re scared to sit by me,” he goaded.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I be afraid? I’ve known you since I was a young girl.”

  His heated gaze ran over her person, from her feet to her face, indecently stopping at certain points along the way. “You are not a young girl anymore,” his husky declaration saw her thighs clamp together.

  Dougray was an expert seducer, but he’d never tried his skills on her before. For one brief year when she was nineteen, he’d—courted her—stolen her heart and then stood by and let her marry Iain.

  Her heart slammed behind her ribs like a drum’s doom filled warning. She would get hurt if she even thought of playing this game with him.

  Still, ignoring her own mind’s warning, her feet moved, and she sat where only moments ago his hand had been. To her disappointment and relief, he did not touch her. He was busy pouring her a drink.

  “Why did you want to find me?”

  He handed it to her. “Drink. You look as if you need it.”

  She took a big gulp, only to splutter. “Whisky?”

  “You’ve been drinking it half your life.”

  She nodded as she fanned her mouth. “I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” The fiery liquid gave her courage. “I wasn’t expecting you either. I have been waiting outside the card room all evening. How did you leave without me seeing you?”

  His devilish grin widened. “Waiting for me?” He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “How intriguing.”

  She pulled back. “To introduce you to Lady Claire.” At his puzzled frown, “You are looking for a wife. Lady Claire would be perfect.”

  His face blanked, and he turned away and downed the rest of the whisky in his glass and set it on the table with a loud clunk. He turned to face her. “I don’t need any help in finding a woman to be my wife.”

  Her heart almost stopped beating. He’d found someone. She wasn’t ready for the pain that engulfed her.

  So lost in her anguish, she at first did not notice his hand slowly stroking her bare arm above her glove—up and down, seductively. “Why do you look so stricken? Don’t you want to know whom I have selected?”

  She swallowed hard and succumbed to a violent shudder. He was being cruel. She wanted to tell him to stop, but any words fled when she caught the faint whiff of Dougray’s exotic incense that clung to his skin like a jealous lover—Sandalwood.

  “No words. That must be a first. I’ve never known you to have nothing to say, Flora.” The way he said her name made her think of sex.

  He pulled her into his arms. “So are you going to kiss me?”

  Flora melted at the question. Her heated brain and her battered heart warred over the answer—her heart won—she wanted his lips on hers like she wanted her next breath.

  This was madness. He’d just confessed to having found a woman to marry, yet here she was in his arms eager as a puppy to please. This man aroused her with a simple smile: what could he do with a kiss, a touch, a…

  Take this one chance, before he is lost to you forever, in case you have to endure another loveless marriage. Her body and mind clamored in her head, arguing with each other.

  She faced him and when she saw the desire swirling in the blue depth of his gaze, she yielded willingly. His head drew close, totally focused on her lips and her body thrilled. He was impossibly handsome, and for one night he would be her real fantasy. Her gaze traveled over his chiseled face with its tantalizing strong bone structure. His eyebrows were thick and black, which made the blue of his eyes appear darker. But it was his lips that made women swoon. Sculptured, full, and soft, she was dying for a taste.

  She beat him by leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. His mouth opened under her lips in surprise.

  His warm, silken lips caressed hers. Oh, sweet bliss. Never had a kiss created such a riot of sensation. This was nothing like the kisses they had shared years ago. He was giving all of himself to her, no doubt because she was no longer a young virgin, but was an experienced widow.

  Just the type of women he loved to dally with.

  She didn’t care…

  Flora wrapped her arms around Dougray’s neck in a mix of hapless craving and wild relief. This was her chance—her one chance before he married—and she would give herself over to it. When he pulled her onto his lap, she did not resist.

  His kiss blurred the lines between fantasy and reality, and she didn’t care. She’d waited and wanted this for too long. Besides, she’d never felt so alive—never. Recklessness sang through her veins, screaming take it all! Joy thrummed along every tingling nerve ending. All the while, not believing she had been brave or foolish enough to do this.

  Unsure of herself, she soon lost herself in the kiss. Dougray’s hand curved tenderly around her nape while the other sunk into her hair. His grip was tight, but it thrilled her.

  His lips beguiled hers, moving back and forth with exquisite skill. She tilted her head back farther and seized on the idea to take the lead. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and savored the taste of him. He was delicious. Her pulse was a reckless rhythm as she clung to him. She could feel the hardened length of him pulsing against her bottom and it spurred her on, transporting her to a state of dizzying heights.

  She wanted him to take her. To lay her down, strip her of her gown and make love to her. To ravish her on this couch before her bravery fled, and she thought too much about the other women before her and likely those to come after her.

  For the past three years she had ignored the lonely ache to be touched, caressed, held. Iain had been a good man, but he never fired her body like this. She had never loved Iain.

  One simple kiss told her that Dougray knew exactly what her body yearned for. Her hands clutched his broad chest, wishing she could feel his heated skin. She let her hands roam his chest while her tongue reveled in his virile taste. A moan escaped as he drew her closer, trapping her hands between his muscled strength and her softness.

  He left her gasping his name as his wayward mouth left her lips and descended along the side of her neck. Her hands moved lower too, stroking him through his trousers as his lips found the top of her exposed bosom.

  “Undress me.” Only when he stopped did she realize she’d said the plea
aloud.

  He’d almost driven himself crazy all day wondering what her lips would feel like. It had been so long since he’d last kissed her, and he’d let no kisses go this far. Since the conversation in the dining room this morning, he had thought only of her.

  At her impulsive kiss he had his answer as to if he could get her to agree to wed him, and it exceeded his expectations. She wanted him too. He had to rein in his need to devour her. Did she still love him?

  Instead, he let her take the lead as she tentatively moved her lips over his. His body shuddered as she slipped her tongue into his mouth.

  He sunk his hand into her glorious soft hair to anchor her mouth to his and called on all his experience not to take over. Her tongue stroked the inside of his mouth, making his groin tightened unbearably. Too much more of this and he’d lay her down and take her on this very settee.

  He reluctantly broke the kiss and tried to cool both their ardors by trailing his lips over her skin.

  “Undress me.” At her plea, his body surged with triumph. He could take her here and now. Sink between her sweet thighs and claim that which had been denied him all these years. He shook his head and pulled away from her to clear his mind of her scent and taste.

  There would be no taking until she agreed to be his wife. He had too much at stake to risk a mere coupling to ease his need of her.

  He leaned back and studied her beneath semi-closed eyelashes. She was still a beauty.

  He let his heated gaze travel over her, feeding his growing desire. The candlelight scorched her copper highlighted hair. Her up swept coiffure, that his fingers had messed, made her neck look as graceful as a swan’s, with alluring tendrils stroking the curve of her bosom. Her bodice drew his appreciative eyes, sweet rounded breasts, lush, and bonny.