“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” she fidgeted as she spoke, clearly uncomfortable at him bringing up the topic of loss so soon into the conversation.
“Thank you, lass, sorry, I didn’t mean tae put such a downer on the evening, especially when we’re only one dram in,” he apologized, trying to lighten up the mood again, not wanting to scare her off.
“Oh, it’s all well; I just know how difficult it is to lose a family member that’s all.” She paused to take another drink, a sense of loneliness showing in her eyes as she looked down at the ground like she wasn’t really seeing it at all.
“It soonds like we’re both in the same boat then. Who did you lose, if ye don’t mind me askin?” Shite, that sounds completely insensitive ye dolton. Way to sour the night before it’s even started.
He breathed a sigh of relief when she answered his question, seemingly unfazed. “My mother. She passed away three years ago after becoming sick with a fever. It’s just been my father and I since then,” she explained.
“I love him of course, but he only thinks of things in terms of business, of what we can gain from people and situations. He's shut off the part of him that’s capable of feeling true love or happiness.” She hadn’t once brought up the topic of her engagement, or her father, since the moment that they had fled from both.
“Ach I see, so that’s why he had ye set up tae marry that bellend.” She let out a small laugh at his words, but her eyes spoke of the pain behind them.
“Yes, that is indeed why he was trying to have me married off to that… bellend.”
Marcas laughed out loud at the sound of her trying out the insult, like she was unsure of how it would feel rolling off her tongue. Least it’s made her smile though.
“Ye’re learning the words fast,” Marcas complimented.
“Oh, I don’t know, I think I’ve got a lot to learn if I’m ever going to keep up with you,” she said.
Does that mean ye want to be here to keep up with me? Ach, Marcas quit being such a soppy git.
“So ye weren’t sweet on Bolton then?” Marcas asked, hoping his question sounded casual.
“My God, no,” Georgina practically spat out the words, “I hate that man, there was no way I was letting him come anywhere near me. Seriously, I don’t know what I would have done if you and Conall hadn’t come to my rescue that day. I don’t know how I can ever thank you for saving me from a life of misery.” Her words were charged with emotion as they came tumbling out of her mouth.
“I can think of a way,” Marcas breathed as he leaned in closer to her.
Their bodies had gradually gravitated towards each other as they talked, and Marcas closed that last small gap so that there was nothing left to do but lean in for a kiss. He gazed down into her eyes, which were glazed with longing, slowly leaning in so as to savor the moment.
His heart was thudding so hard in his chest she could surely hear it, and he felt her breathing spike as their lips almost touched, pausing to run his hands through her hair and cradle her face with his hands before—
“Aye, ye made off wi’ me dram did ye man?” Alpin’s voice sounded out as the drawing room door opened and his friend waltzed in. Oh, ye bastard I’m gonnae punch ye where it hurts fer this.
Georgina pulled away, gasping in surprise at the interruption, her cheeks burning red and Marcas cursed Alpin even more. That was our chance and now I’ve blown it.
“Well I don’t reckon ye deserve one now ‘n’ all,” Marcas called out, clearing his throat, the intimacy that hung in the room just moments before completely gone. He reached out for the remains of his glass and drained it to try and calm the frustration bubbling up inside him, wanting nothing more than to tell Alpin to get lost.
“Ach, come on, just a wee nightcap,” Alpin urged.
“Fine that, just the one,” Marcas grudgingly agreed.
As Alpin sank into the armchair opposite, his eyes glittering with questions, Georgina made to stand up.
“I’d best leave you gentlemen to it and see to Fiona,” the earlier familiarity in her voice was gone, leaving nothing but a polite formality.
“Aye, goodnight, lass,” Marcas replied, his heart sinking.
“Fine tae meet ye Georgina, ye’re no bad company fer a prisoner,” Alpin said.
Och, ye just couldn’t make the situation worse Alpin, ye big bampot.
“Yes, it was nice to meet you too, Alpin,” Georgina said, all the jest gone from her voice and she left the room, closing the door behind her quietly.
Marcus waited a few moments, listening to her footsteps move away from the door before letting Alpin have it.
“Och ye bloody bugger, ye couldn’t hae picked a worse moment tae walk in,” Marcas began, “I could’ve kicked ye right there ‘n’ then.”
“Ohhh, no a good time fer me tae appear wis it?” Alpin grinned, wanting more details. “I’m sure there are worse moments fer me tae have walked in on, it’s no like the pair o’ ye were stark naked and goin’ at it on the couch.”
“Well we hardly had the chance tae, thanks tae ye and yer goddam awful timing,” Marcas argued back.
“Ach, lighten up man, ye’ll get yer piece eventually, if she’ll let ye that is.” Alpin teased, raising his glass and draining the whisky down in one gulp.
“Och, piss off,” Marcas retorted, keeping an edge of humor to his words and following suit with the drink.
He reluctantly fell into bantering back and forth with Alpin. His friend had been sorely in need of blowing off a bit of steam, they all had he supposed. Before the wedding of the Earl of Aylesford, the night he met Georgina, they were all coping with the loss of Alistair and Sarah Campbell, Alpin’s sister and Conall’s best friend.
He’s trying to act his usual self, to tell himself that everything is fine in the hope that it will be. I can hardly blame him; the duty always fell on the men in the family to be the brave heroes everyone looked up to them to be in tough times. They were Highlanders, not some namby-pamby English bairns after all.
“Och I’d best be off Marcas man,” Alpin announced, getting to his feet with a stretch and a yawn. “I’ll be riding doon sooth the morn with a stonking headache at this rate.” He’d taken a fair few drams but they hadn’t reached the point of being overly pished, more they’d hit the sweet spot of the booze taking the edge off, and feeling relaxed and happy.
They exchanged a slap-on-the-back hug as Marcas saw him to the door. “Maybe ye can still bed the lass yet the night,” Alpin said, “She is yer prisoner after all. Surely ye can dae what ye like wi’ her.”
“Ach, aye, heed in the gutter as always eh?” Marcas said affectionately. He could hardly tell off his friend for the way he spoke about women, it was just how things were done whether the words had meaning or not.
“Right ye are Marcas, right ye are,” Alpin agreed with a grin, loping off into the night and in the direction of home.
Marcas closed the door, locking up for the night. Conall wasn’t expected back until morning, so he was the man of the house for the night. And I damn well will make the most of it. Maybe she is still awake right enough.
He crept up the stairs, not wanting to make a commotion and wake the whole castle but unable to get his mind off the almost-kiss that had happened between him and Georgina. Was she thinking about it too? Surely, she must be, I couldn’t have imagined the heat that passed between us… her eyes said it all.
As he approached his bedchamber, he paused outside of the door. It was too tempting knowing that she was merely across the hall from him, perhaps awake and waiting for their kiss to continue. He took a deep breath and crept softly across the stone floor, reaching out to knock gently on her door. Steady now, ye can do this man. Surely, she’ll answer.
He waited painstakingly, desperately hoping that she’d heard him. I know ye’re there Georgina, don’t leave me hanging. I ken ye ken it’s me.
After what felt like an hour, he finally heard a shuffling noise and a click as she turned the
doorknob and creaked open the door slowly. Her worried face relaxed as she clocked him standing there.
“Marcas,” she whispered, “what are you—”
He didn’t give her a chance to finish her question. It is now or never.
Instead, he stepped in close to her, took her in his arms and gazed down into her eyes just like before. The initial surprise in her face quickly melted into a look of longing and expectation and he didn’t hesitate this time as their lips found each other.
His whole body tingled with excitement as he kissed her, soft and gentle at first, taking his time to run his fingers through her hair and down her back, longing to feel her against him. Her lips felt like delicate rosebuds, and they moved against his more perfectly than he could have imagined.
He couldn’t get enough of her softness, of her warmth, and pressed his lips more urgently against hers, spilling out all that pent-up passion and longing he’d felt since the moment he laid eyes on her.
As he began to nudge her mouth open with his tongue, to explore her taste and tease her tongue with his, he felt her stiffen slightly and pull back. Trying to bring his gentlemanly side back, he did the same, but softly, keeping his arms wrapped around her and moving back to see her face, stroking his finger gently down the side of it.
They gazed at each other silently for a few minutes, letting their breathing slow down. Now would be the time to be a gentleman and go back tae yer own bed.
He slowly disentangled himself from her, as much as it pained him, stroking her arm as he breathed “Goodnight, Georgina,” and turned around to walk away.
Chapter 10
Georgina heard Marcas’ door close with a soft click, feeling a smile engulf her face and a warm gooey feeling spread through her. He kissed me! Marcas kissed me! Oh, could there be a better feeling in this world?
She spun herself around in a circle, dizzy with glee and wide awake. Oh, Marcas please come back and kiss me some more. I’ve never felt so…so… tingling in all my life.
She simply didn’t have the words to describe what she was feeling. It’s not like she’d never kissed a man before. Well, that’s not entirely true. She’d kissed boys, not a real man like Marcas. They’d only been awkward teenage fumbles with nothing but an overload of spit and ungainly limbs, unsure of what they were doing.
Not like this, like fireworks were exploding inside of me. I could never have imagined that desire could feel so intense. All those love stories don’t seem so silly anymore. Maybe I could sneak through and wake Fiona to tell her. Oh, I just want to laugh out loud and yell from the rooftops.
Their plan couldn’t have gone better. Fiona was a mastermind at coordinating situations, knowing both her brother and Alpin so well that she could predict their actions and words long before they’d even thought them up themselves.
“We’ll put on bonnie frocks,” she’d plotted, looking through her wardrobe for suitable dresses. “Then we’ll greet them at the dinner table. I’ve asked Mrs. Loganach to make their favorite tea especial. Then, once they’ve eaten, the pair o’ them will no doubt get ready to disappear tae the study fer a dram.” Georgina had long since learned that dram referred to a drink of liquor, usually whisky, for that was all they seemed to drink up in Carnarvan, besides that horribly strong ale.
“That’s when I’ll interfere,” Fiona had continued, on quite a roll, “I’ll make a show about Alpin having not seen our newest horse. His family raises and breed the animals, he has a healthy regard fer them and will surely want to come out and see it. Besides, it would be rude fer him to refuse.
That’s my chance tae get him on his own and take a turn around the castle grounds wi’ him. Oh, it’ll be so romantic, the sun will just be setting, and we’ll take our time to savor the beauty in our surroundings. Maybe he’ll be so taken wi’ it all that he’ll finally really see me and fall for me right there and then.” Fiona had been in love with Alpin Campbell for a long time, but he seemed to only love her as a sister.
“And then, that’s yer mark to go through tae the study wi’ Marcas in place o’ Alpin and have yer chance to be alone wi’ him,” Fiona had concluded.
At the time, the plan felt so exciting and Georgina had been giddy as they prepared themselves for the evening ahead.
Oh, I can’t wait to tell Fiona that her plan went better than we hoped. She’ll surely have her own tale of success to tell me in return.
She toyed with the idea of creeping out of her bedchamber, bursting to tell her friend all about it, but as she opened her door as quietly as she could, the proximity of Marcas’ room consumed her.
What if I knocked on his door and continued the kiss? Would that be too forward? Or would he perhaps be expecting to take things further? As much as the idea thrilled her, a part of her was frightened at the prospect of it. She’d never been intimate with a man before, and she didn’t want to rush things and give Marcas the wrong impression. It simply wasn’t proper to lay with a man before being married.
She hovered outside of Marcas’ bedchamber, the scolding inside her head telling her not to act on her urges just yet. Instead, she crept down the corridor towards Fiona’s room, tapping softly with her fist.
“Fiona?” she whispered as loudly as she could muster, “It’s me Georgina.” She paused, waiting a couple of moments but she got no response.
“Fiona, are you awake?” she tried again but after a while she was still met with nothing but silence.
Giving up, she moseyed back down the hallway towards her room, but she was simply too wound up to think about going back to bed just yet. Instead, she headed for the stairs and savored the nighttime quietness of the castle as she descended toward the grand entrance hall at the bottom of the marble stairs.
The heavy front door was closed and locked up, so she moved through the empty kitchen toward the side entrance that she knew the cook and some of the other hired help used to come in and out.
She slipped out, breathing in the cool freshness of the night air. After her mother died, Georgina had often found herself unable to sleep at night, feeling the loss of the center of her family all too sharply to be able to feel at rest with herself. So, she’d taken to nighttime strolls in order to ease her mind.
She had had to be very careful about it to avoid drawing her father’s attention. If he had known that she was sneaking out of the estate in the middle of the night by herself, there would have been hell to pay. A young lady cannot be seen to be taking off alone in the middle of the night, what shame are you trying to bring to this family Georgina? She imagined he would have said.
Well he’s not here to tell me what to do now. She rejoiced in the freedom, enjoying the empty expanse of the castle grounds, that feeling of having it all to herself without a single eye upon her.
This walk was different to the ones she used to do, however, for her restlessness was offset by simple joy and the burgeoning of love. She simply couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss, how perfect the moment had been. Oh, Marcas, how I wish you’d see me from your window and follow me out here.
The surroundings looked different under the light of the stars. During the day you could see for miles across the hilly landscape of the region. Large forests full of lush green trees spread out for miles and fields of livestock and horses were peppered all over the place.
At this time of night, everything looked dark and mysterious. Georgina could still see a little bit in front of her thanks to the stars twinkling in the sky, the slight dampness of the ground having a hazy look to it in the dusky light.
Her mind played over each little detail of the kiss as she reached the bounds of the castle grounds, far too preoccupied with feeling such delicious joy to notice the man standing in silent wait as she strolled out through the gate.
Suddenly, a hand clapped over her mouth and an iron-like pair of arms imprisoned her from behind.
Shocked, she instinctively tried to scream but her voice was muffled and no matter how hard she tried to wriggle free h
er captor squeezed all the harder. What was going on? Marcas, help! Help me!
“Well, that was far easier than I expected,” an English male voice hissed in her ear. “It’s not every day that your prisoner wanders right into your hands.”
She strained and tried to pull herself free with all her might. What on earth is this man talking about? Prisoner? Like he was here waiting for me.
“Sir Bolton will certainly be pleased that I’ve got my hands on you, Miss Andrews. Your disappearance has caused quite the stir,” the faceless voice continued.
He was one of Bolton’s men. The realization hit her like a punch in the stomach and she felt her breathing shorten as she began to panic. He had come to march me home, back to Morgan where I’d be forced to become his wife.
Hysteria rose up within her as she began to understand what was happening, lending her a new surge of strength to struggle out of the man’s grasp. This time he really had to fight against her thrashing, fuelled by pure panic to escape his grasp. No, no, you can’t do this. You can’t take me back to him, anywhere but there.
The Highlander's Secret Maiden: A Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 8