“Oh, why thank you, that would be positively delightful,” Georgina agreed.
Eventually, after some more small talk and polite goodbyes, Mr. Gruem went on his way, and Georgina turned to her friend with glee.
“Why a dance? This is perfect!” she exclaimed.
“What’s there tae be so excited aboot? It’ll be a stuffy collection o’ the other lairds and well-to-do folk, mostly men o’ his age with their wives, none having much tae say other than comments on the weather and the bloody English. No offense tae ye o’ course,” Fiona ranted.
“Except, Alpin will surely be there alongside Conall and Marcas,” Georgina mentioned, trying to get her friend’s spirits up. “This is your chance to excite him with everything you’ve got.”
Finally, Georgina saw a smile emerge on her friend’s face. “Maybe ye’re right,” Fiona agreed.
After that, Fiona was back to her usual self as they took a turn about the village. They were just approaching the grocery store to pick up shopping, or ‘messages’ as Fiona called it, when they bumped into none other than Conall and Alpin.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Conall asked suggestively.
“We could ask the same of you,” Georgina responded.
“Och, just business as usual, lass. A laird’s job is never done,” he said casually.
“Well, we’d better not keep you,” Georgina said, linking her arm through Fiona’s to move on forwards.
“Hald on,” Conall exclaimed, stepping in front of Georgina.
“I wanted tae invite ye tae this dance that’s comin’ up. It’s a local affair and I wanted tae make sure ye wouldn’t be left oot and all alone in the castle —” he began before Georgina cut him off.
“Mr. Gruem's social gathering?” she asked, “I believe I’ve already received an invitation.”
Conall’s face was like thunder, “wa —how’d ye manage that?”
“Yer no the only McGowan he kens, Conall. We saw him just minutes ago and he was fair taken wi’ Georgina and insisted that she attend wi’ us,” Fiona piped up.
“Aye I see. Well I was just tryin’ tae be a gentleman, but if ye’re goin’ anyway, then I’ll save ye a dance,” Conall said, his eyes on Georgina.
“We’ll see about that,” she said in response.
“Conall here’s just tryin’ tae make sure he has the pick o’ all the lasses,” Alpin pitched in, slapping Conall on the back good naturedly.
“I trust ye’ll be goin’ too, Fiona?” Alpin asked, his voice as casual as you please.
“Och, I —” Georgina nudged her friend in an indication to tone down the enthusiasm. “I hadnae given it much thought. I’ll see what like,” she said, her tone flippant.
“Well maybe I’ll save ye a dance if ye do decide tae grace us wi’ yer presence,” Alpin responded. His face betrayed his surprise, his eyes flashing in hope as he spoke.
“Aye, well Georgina an’ I need tae get on, we’ll see ye lads later,” Fiona said, not giving them a chance to say much in response before dragging Georgina into the shops that they’d originally been heading towards.
“Well done!” Georgina exclaimed as soon as they were out of earshot. “Alpin was thoroughly put out there, he hardly knew what to think. Now he’s going to be desperately hoping to see you at the dance.”
“Ye think?” Fiona asked excitedly, “Ach yer a genius Georgina!”
As they collected their ‘messages’, the two of them chatted excitedly about the prospects of this upcoming dance. Although, it’s only going to be a success if Marcas is well enough to attend. I certainly don’t want to be under the scrutiny of Conall’s attentions the entire time.
Conall’s flirtations towards her were leaving her feeling unsettled, particularly when her attentions were focused on Marcas. If only he was better, we could openly show our affection towards each other and Conall would stop this silliness.
As they walked back up the hill towards the castle, both Georgina and Fiona were lost in their own thoughts. Georgina wanted nothing more than to see Marcas and she became restless for them to get back to Carnarvan so she could do just that.
Georgina spent the next week by Marcas’ side, taking care of him where she could. The relief and excitement she’d felt in seeing him again were dampened by his injured and feverish demeanor peppering her with worry for him instead.
Every day she brought his meals up to his room, rubbed the herbal balm into his damaged leg and sat with him to keep him company. I simply can’t believe he almost lost a leg, he was so brave to fight for me outside of the asylum like that.
One morning, she tapped on his door as usual with a fresh bowl of an herbal concoction Mrs. Loganach had whipped up, something to speed up the healing process and his answering call sounded much like his old self.
“Come in, lass, nothing indecent tae see here!” he shouted across the room.
“Marcas?” she asked as she stuck her head around the door as usual. This time he was sat up, looking far better and stronger than he had all week.
“Ach, aren’t ye a sight fer sore eyes,” he joked, the light back in his eyes as he smiled at her.
“Wow, you’re looking much healthier,” she exclaimed.
“Aye, the fever’s gone I reckon. I’m all set tae get out o’ this bed here and noo,” he said. “But I wanted some time wi’ ye first.” He patted the bed beside him, indicating for her to come and sit down.
Butterflies took off in Georgina’s stomach as the reality of finally getting close to him took hold.
Oh, may we finally kiss again?
He’d insisted that they couldn’t be close until his sickness had passed not wanting to pass on the fever to her. While she knew he was looking out for her, she had still longed for him to hold her and kiss her once more, just like he had that night.
“I’m sure I can oblige,” Georgina said coyly as she sat down next to him on the bed, Marcas throwing the covers over her so that she could snuggle up next to him.
“I’ve been dreaming about this ever since our kiss,” Marcas said softly, trailing his fingers up and down her shoulder.
“The memory of it got me through all those awful days after being kidnapped, knowing that I would see you once more,” Georgina said.
They’d talked about the finer details about what had happened whilst Marcas had been bedridden, the threats, the darkness and the loneliness. She told him of her moments of hopelessness and how pretending to be strong was the only way she could make it through the long days.
He’d admitted that he’d been filled with rage as he learned she’d been captured, that he barely stopped until he and Conall found where she was being kept.
“I was terrified that I’d never see ye again,” Marcas said, his voice quiet as his eyes were dilated with longing, looking into hers like he was seeing right into her soul.
“Oh, Marcas, I was worrying about the exact same thing,” Georgina shared, her stomach giving a delicious lurch as she heard his words and looked into his eyes. That energy was flowing between them once again, her heart fluttering as his fingers lightly trailed down her back, leaving a tickling sensation in their wake.
Unable to stand it any longer, Georgina leaned in closer to him, feeling his body heat upon hers as their faces met. He briefly nudged his nose against hers, teasing her with that gorgeous smile, before tilting his head and meeting her lips with his in a soft, intimate kiss.
Her skin felt like it was on fire as he stroked the side of her face and then ran his fingers through her hair, tucking the lengths of it behind her ear to stop it from obscuring their kiss. Ohhh, I could just melt. Let this feeling never end.
His lips felt soft and luscious against hers, and he lingered on each kiss, like he was taking his time with her. Gently, she felt the tip of his tongue ease her mouth open a little and meet with ease. He groaned slightly as she let his tongue explore her own, opening her mouth to him and moving her own hands around his neck to pull him in closer.
As the heat between them intensified, Georgina ran her hands down his chest, exploring its hard, muscular surface, generating another excited twinge deep inside her as she felt the shape of his body against her hands.
A fire began to rage inside her, nothing like she’d ever felt before. Oh, Marcas, I want you so badly, make me yours.
They stopped kissing for a moment, pulling away slightly to look at each other. Everything about his expression suggested that he was encapsulated by the same powerful desire, like tearing himself apart from her would be physically painful, their breathing both short and gasping.
“Oh, lass, ye’ve blown me away like nobody else ever has,” Marcas whispered, his voice husky.
Georgina suddenly felt shy, having not been intimate with a man like this before. What if I can’t figure out what to do? What kind of woman would I be if I can’t please him?
Marcas seemed to sense her hesitation for his hands stopped exploring and cupped the side of her face instead.
“We don’t have tae rush anything,” he whispered, gazing into her eyes. “I love ye, Georgina Andrews and I want to do things properly.”
Her heart practically exploded into a hundred pieces of pure happiness.
He loves me! Oh, has anyone ever felt this happy?
“Oh, Marcas, I love you too,” she said, feeling a smile break out on her face at the expression of joy on his face as she said the words back. He leaned forward to kiss her deeply, full of the most incredible passion before slowing things down once more and easing away to gaze deeply into her eyes.
“Ye’ve given me all the motivation I need tae heal this leg,” Marcas said. “I’m feelin’ like today will be the day I get back up an’ on me feet.”
She snuggled up to him, resting her head on his chest and listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart. “That would be just wonderful,” Georgina said. “there is this dance coming up, after all….” She hinted.
“Ah and I suppose ye’ll be wantin’ an escort and all,” he laughed.
“Well a girl can hardly be expected to turn up alone,” she hinted. Perhaps I shouldn’t mention that Conall was eager enough for me to go with him.
“I’d be honored tae take ye,” Marcas said sincerely.
They lay there a while longer, just enjoying each other’s company and the intimacy of him holding her.
This feels so wonderful; I never want it to stop.
Later that day, Georgina found herself alone and occupied with nothing but her thoughts. Marcas was up on his feet by the afternoon, now that the swelling had gone down, and Conall wasted no time by getting him out. Fiona had also gone out for the day to visit some acquaintances within the parish. Even Mrs. Loganach had a rare day off.
Whatever shall I do with myself? The castle feels so big with none of the others around. I wish Marcas were here, so we could continue where we left off this morning. Damn Conall for insisting he go off with him.
There was something niggling in the back of her mind however, something she’d been ignoring in the wake of all that had happened since she left England — her father.
I can’t deny that I’m happy here, that it’s more of a home to me than the estate had felt in years, but is it wrong of me to turn my back on father like this? What if he won’t ever speak to me again? He hates them as much as the next Englishman and I’ve most likely ruined his relationship with Morgan.
The more she thought about it, the more she yearned to speak with him, to let him know that she was fine — more than fine really. He might not even know the whole story. How could he really? I can’t just sit here with the knowledge that he might be thinking that I’m being held prisoner by the McGowan clan. Whatever has happened, he’s still my father.
She ran up the stairs to her bedchamber where there was a sheath of letter-writing paper stacked on top of the dressing table. She carefully picked up a couple of sheets, a quill, some ink, and carried it all back downstairs.
Her footsteps echoed in the big, grand hall as she made her way over to the front door. Slipping outside, she walked out to the right, treading through the damp grass right out to her favorite spot within the castle grounds.
It was a large, flat stone, the perfect size to sit on. Positioned perfectly at the top point of the hill, she had an incredible view of the countryside. From here, it seemed to go on forever. I could never get tired of this view; I could just gaze at it every day and be nothing but blissfully happy.
Today the skies were characteristically grey, announcing a wet day but so far, the ground was dry and the rain hadn’t yet begun, so Georgina was going to fully use that to her advantage.
She sat down, laying out the writing materials and gathering herself to poise the ink-tipped quill at the top of the page.
But what to write? Whenever I think of father, I just feel horribly guilty. Perhaps if I explain everything to him, then he may understand.
She felt a lurch of nerves as she began to write the words ‘Dear Father’ on the top of the page, pausing to find the right words and then putting everything down on the paper:
Dear Father,
I hardly know how to begin this letter. I am unsure if it should be an apology or something else entirely.
That evening at the Earl of Aylesford’s wedding feels like a lifetime ago already. All I can do is tell you my side of the story and hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me.
I never wanted to marry Morgan Bolton. The mere thought of it filled me with an undeniable dread. Perhaps if you’d allowed me to have a say, then we wouldn’t be in this situation right now. That evening, when you were finalizing the rest of my life, all I wanted was to escape my fate with that terrible man, and low and behold, I was presented with the perfect opportunity to do so.
The McGowans did not kidnap me. I went with them willingly. They are not brutes and wild, unkempt beasts like we so often talked of them, but gentle and kind folk with a fierce nature to protect their loved ones and their clan.
I met Conall McGowan on the dance floor and told him of my woes. He listened and offered me a route to escape. No harm came to me as I went with them up to the castle, their home, where I was welcomed inside like family.
Their sister Fiona and I have become fast friends. She is the sister I never had. Here, I feel welcome and am surrounded with companions, unlike back home where I had been lonely since mother’s passing.
Danger occurred when I was kidnapped by two Englishmen from the castle grounds. I used to regularly sneak out of my room at night to take a midnight stroll if I was unable to sleep. I was doing just this one moonlit night when I was grabbed and knocked out after refusing to succumb to their demands.
While locked in a filthy, dark basement, I overheard them discussing their plan to take me to Morgan Bolton’s men in exchange for financial reward. One brother disagreed; he wanted to hold me hostage for the best price, convinced that the McGowans would compete with Morgan to pay the ransom fee.
It was his plan that unfolded, for the brute locked me away in an asylum where he worked, admitted me under a false name, and I was forced to comply with the horrid prison rules of that awful place. I do not know how long I was trapped there, for each day felt like two, and I was locked in a windowless room for quite some time.
Morgan arrived, presumably after paying his fee for me, and escorted me out. I was thrown into despair in the carriage ride away from there as I contemplated the bleak, loveless future that I had originally run away from. The stormy weather meant that we had to stop at an inn for the night, and I fully intended to slip outside during the night and find the inn which Conall and Marcas had last been to, to send word to them.
However, there was no need, for Conall himself was waiting outside for me, and I went with him gladly to arrive back here in these parts, once mor bye. I cannot express how happy I am here father, and I hope that you will be able to come to terms with this and accept that this is where I belong.
Please write b
ack to me at the address on the other side but do not share this information with anyone, especially Morgan, even if you disagree with everything that I have said. I implore you, as your only daughter, to respect my wishes to ensure that no further harm comes to me.
Yours,
Georgina
She read over the letter once it was finished, a tear in her eye as she recalled all that had happened since she had last seen her father. Whatever had happened, he was still her father and she loved him. I just hope that he still loves me after all that I have put him through.
She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching her until Marcas called out to her softly, “Georgina?”
The Highlander's Secret Maiden: A Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 18