Hector pulled away only to tilt her head to the side where he had access to her neck. Kissing down the slender milky column only to stop where her pulse was, Hector sealed his lips over the pulsing skin and sucked hard. Victoria cried out and grabbed at his head as he marked her.
Her breasts were pushing into his chest, and he could feel her hardened nipples through his thin shirt and snaked his other hand between them to cup her left breast and massage it. Victoria was a shuddering mess as she unconsciously rocked on his lap, making his manhood fill even more.
She wanted it. Hector knew she wanted him, and the visions he had of her writhing under him were so tangible he could taste it. How would she react when he sucked her nipples, kissed her wet skin or lapped at her lips? What would she feel like closing over him as a virgin? She’d be exquisite, Hector had no doubt.
He wanted to feel her – God he wanted to – but it wasn’t the time or the place. Victoria deserved a bed strewn with rose petals and dotted with perfume, not the rough, rocky side of a hillock and in the open with scrubby grass as a barrier. She needed romance, not a romp.
Moving his lips, Hector pressed a kiss to the reddened spot and pulled his hand from her taut breast. He then kissed her mouth while stilling her hips with both hands, ignoring the need his manhood was sending to his brain.
“Victoria, m'eudail, we need tae stop.” Hector said softly, “I want ye - God knows I want ye - but I willnae take ye here on tha ground like a wench.”
The dark of Victoria’s eyes was wide and the surrounding blue a very thin circle. Her skin was flushed and her lips were open and panting - an image that severely tempted Hector’s resolve not to bed her.
Victoria laughed softly while lacing her fingers into Hector’s hair, “You think you have a curse about being drawn to Moore ladies, but it is the same way with us. I’m here, aren’t I?”
She did have a point. “I swear on me life, I will hae ye one day, but it’s nae today, m'eudail.”
A beatific smile crossed Victoria’s face, “I’ll hold you to that… what does ‘m'eudail’ mean?”
Hector thought for a moment, trying his best to translate it into English without losing any of the sublime resonance. “It means me darling, me dear an’ if fickle fate smiles upon us, me lover.”
“Oh,” Victoria blinked, “That’s…beautiful. Your language is so much more…meaningful than ours. Can you teach me some?”
“I’d love tae, but I need tae ken some more aboot how ye went aboot findin’ Andrew. I need tae act, an’ I dinnae hae much time tae do it. I’ve lingered tae much already.”
Victoria nodded as what he had said made sense. “When I was eighteen, I found a man my father used in many of his private investigations named Mark Johnson, to track him down. He used to live here but moved to Northamptonshire with his new wife. He has ears all over the cities, and he was the one who told me about you. That was why I sent you the note at the Barton Inn.”
Once again, Hector felt amazed at this lady’s bravery, thoughtfulness, and compassion.
“He told me he tracked Andrew all the way to Cladich, in Argyll. The trail ran cold there.”
Hector’s eyes popped wide, “Cladich is near Lake Obha. He almost made it home, then?”
“Almost.” Victoria mourned, “But that meant he never got there.”
Pressing a closed kiss to Victoria’s cheek, Hector smiled, “Ye did all ye could. Hell, no one could hae done more. It’s nae yer fault, me lovely, dinnae blame yerself.”
Victoria rested her cheek on Hector’s shoulder. “I can’t help but think so.”
An idea, wild, daring, and probably impossible, sprung to Hector’s mind, and though he doubted the probability of it happening, he voiced it anyway, “Lass, d’ye ken ye can go wi’ me tae see this Johnson tomorrow? I doubt he’d receive me if yer no’ there tae gie him some assurance.”
Victoria’s eyes narrowed a little, “You want to meet Mr. Johnson?”
“Aye,” Hector replied, “I want him tae tell me e’erythin' he kens aboot trackin’ Andrew. I might make some connections he might hae not realized or kent.”
“I cannot,” Victoria shook her head, “I’m under watch at every moment. I cannot just leave without anyone knowing where I am. I understand your point, Hector, but I am afraid I cannot go. Perhaps I can give you a note telling him that I endorse your quest.”
“Tha’ might work,” Hector replied, “But I ken it would be better if ye came. The ride isnae far, me lass. Godspeed we can get there, speak tae him an’ come back afore dusk.”
A troubled look marred Victoria’s face, and Hector hated that he had added one more worry to her already overwhelmed mind. “Me apologies fer stressing ye, lass, ye dinnae hae tae come if ye cannae. A note will probably do but…I’ll be here tomorrow at dawn, if yer no’ here an’ I find a note, me companion an’ I will go anyway.”
Victoria’s smile was faint. “That might be the only course here.”
Once more, Hector could only nod. “Either way, I’d be glad. It’s gettin’ late, lass, ye should go back.”
Darting a look at the darkening sky Victoria nodded, “I should. We’ll see about tomorrow.”
Kissing her once more, Hector watched as she walked swiftly away and then looked around in soft apprehension. He knew this Mark Johnson wouldn’t give him an audience if she weren’t there with him, so could Victoria defy the odds and go with them? That was the question.
Chapter 16
Victoria went back to the Manor in a soft haze of pleasure. Hector hadn’t written her off entirely, even after knowing her deceit. She made it back just as the summer dusk was falling and entered the dim entrance with a smile. At least she didn’t have to pretend to him anymore.
She climbed the stairs trying to figure out what she was going to do with Hector and his trip to Mark Johnson. Entering her room, she took off the cloak and happily saw the tray holding her dinner on a table.
A letter was on the tray, too, and while taking it up, Victoria hoped it wasn’t from Mr. Keating. Thankfully, her father’s hand was on the back, and she opened it, thinking it was good news of his return.
Victoria.
I have been notified that you have lost all discretion, common sense and ambition and have spurned Mr. Keating’s advances. The man is the perfect choice for you Victoria, and when I return from this assembly, I will make it so with a formal betrothal of you to Mr. Keating. I had hoped you would have come to your senses and put all foolish, childish nitpicking folly behind you and use the wisdom I know you possess. I will return on the morrow, and personally see you engaged to Mr. Keating. You will be wed to Mr. Bartholomew Keating before this year is done.
Your father
Victoria couldn’t believe what she was seeing - it was unthinkable. Her father was going to sell her off to Mr. Keating without even considering her feelings. Anger and despair surged through her in equal measure as she didn’t see a way out.
“Child?” Ruth’s soft voice came from the doorway, “Why are you crying?”
Victoria’s head snapped up as the reality of what Ruth was saying dripped wetly on her lap. Rubbing the tears of dismay away, Victoria battled within herself. Ruth was, for all consideration, her mother, and she felt she could tell the older woman everything, but could she tell her about Hector?
“I’m getting married off, Ruth,” Victoria said, while brandishing the letter. “To blasted Mr. Keating by my dear Father’s irrevocable orders.”
“Oh, my child.” Ruth said, while sitting beside her, “I am sorry, but you know this is the way of our world. You must marry for the good of your station.”
“But to him?” Victoria spat. “The man is disagreeable. I am disgusted with his pride.”
“Then who is worthy of your favor, child?” Ruth asked simply.
Victoria felt deep fear settle in her stomach as her mind formed the words she was about to say, “Ruth… I must confess something to you.”
Ruth looked puz
zled, “And what might that be?”
Taking in a few stabilizing breaths, Victoria closed her eyes and admitted, “Not too long ago, I received word that Hector MacTavish, the son of Laird Fergus MacTavish, is in the country. He has come to find his brother - Andrew - the same man I have been searching for over three years now.”
With her eyes still closed Victoria continued, “I have met with him thrice and told him all I know about Andrew and the steps I took to find him.”
The silence that came from her admission felt light, not as heavy with dread as Victoria had expected. She anxiously opened her eyes to see a patient look on Ruth’s face.
Victoria replied, “Hector is planning to go see Mark Johnson in Northamptonshire at dawn. I had thought of going with him, but I hadn’t thought it possible. Now, I have no other option - I must run.” With her mind jumping ahead, from one thought to the other and coming to a conclusion, Victoria said decidedly, “I must leave. I cannot stay here and be bartered off to that …man - if I want to stay alive.”
“Leave? How?” Ruth pressed, as the alarm on her face deepened, “Please do not tell me you’re thinking of running away with that man.”
“I cannot see any other way,” Victoria said. “I am not so attached to this life where I cannot leave it. The comforts I have are many, yes, but they are not worth my sanity. I am desperate, Ruth.”
“There must be another way, Victoria. Even if you do, how will you evade your father after that?” Ruth asked. “This is not a feasible plan, my child.”
Victoria pressed her lips together as her ideas formed and came together as one. “I’ll ask him to give me sanctuary - in Scotland.”
“Scotland!” Ruth exclaimed, “But Victoria, doing so will--”
“Reenact my Aunt Emily’s life,” Victoria replied heavily. “I know, but this is the only option open to me now. I beg you, Ruth, help me. I cannot sign my life over to Mr. Keating. I might live alone for the rest of my days but I cannot be Mr. Keating’s wife.”
“It is madness, my child,” Ruth replied. “How will you survive there?”
“Madness it might be but I have no other options open to me,” Victoria pressed. “I am going, Ruth, whether you approve or not. Please, understand my state.”
The older woman looked mired in turmoil. If she allowed Victoria to run away, she was going to bear the brunt of the Duke of Crowland’s anger. However, what was her position worth in contrast to Victoria’s life? She loved the girl as her own daughter and would do all she could to see her happy and if this was the way for that to happen, it was worth it
“I do understand,” Ruth sighed heavily. “I cannot overrule your decisions, as you are a grown lady. I only advise you take caution and to have a strong mind about you. The way to Scotland is not an easy one.”
It took a few moments for Victoria to digest what Ruth was saying, but when she did, it was received with joy. “Thank you, Ruth.”
“Let’s pack you a bag,” Ruth said, while moving to the armoire and taking out a few suits of clothes, ones hardy enough to manage such a journey. Two skirts made of tweed and blouses of hardy cotton were packed, underclothes, a cotton nightgown, and a towel. The hooded cloak Victoria had was deemed suitable to travel with, and a pair of boots were added.
“Let’s get you bathed and have you eat,” Ruth replied, “I’ll send the girls for your water. Then I will personally pack you some food for the journey.”
Inordinately grateful for the help, Victoria stood up and kissed Ruth on her cheek, “Thank you.”
With a nod, Ruth left and Victoria hid the bag under her bed and disrobed in wait for the servant girls to come and fill her tub. In due time, Amelia and Helen came bearing buckets of water and filled the copper tub.
“Do you need my assistance, My Lady?” Amelia asked, while wiping a splatter of water from her dress.
“No, thank you, Amelia, Miss Ruth will be aiding me,” Victoria answered as casually as possible. “Good night.”
After curtseying, the two maids left and Victoria waited until Ruth came back with the tied package of food and assisted Victoria into the tub. While she bathed, Victoria felt a giddy, sensational emotion run through her - she was running away.
“Are you having second thoughts, child?” Ruth asked, while moving Victoria’s hair out of the way.
Was she? Was this the feeling running through her chest? Was it fear? No, she decided, all she was feeling was the expectation of freedom.
“No, Ruth,” Victoria replied, “Not at all.”
Getting out of the tub, Victoria dried her person, and knowing it was too soon to get dressed in her travelling clothes, donned a nightgown. She then sat to eat her supper even as the anxiety running through her made it hard to eat.
“Child,” Ruth said as she stood before Victoria, “I cannot lie with good confidence to His Grace when he comes to find you gone, therefore, I cannot be with you in the morning.”
Swallowing, Victoria nodded, “I understand. Thank you.”
Ruth then kissed her on her cheek, “Be well, my child. I look forward to seeing you before I die.”
Tears welled in Victoria’s eyes at the dire mention of Ruth’s passing. It was inevitable that the woman she counted on as her mother would pass but she had wanted to be there when it happened. The enormity of what she was about to do then came full-fledged upon her and for a moment she reconsidered going away.
“Do not let me hamper you, child.” Ruth replied. “I have always held it that your welfare must always surpass mine.”
“I cannot–” Victoria shook her head, “I do not deserve such love but I will do my best to not let your faith in me go in vain.”
“Rest, now,” Ruth said. “And Godspeed.”
The soft close of the door made Victoria’s decision final and she finished her last bite with apprehension filling every part of her body and mind. With a clear look to the sky, Victoria tried to rest but full sleep did not come to her. She seemed to hover between wake and sleep in a soft rest.
When the moon was descending, Victoria got up quietly and donned her tweed skirt and blouse, banded her hair back in a tight bun at the base of her neck, and threw the coat over her shoulders. She took a purse with silver, and a few Guineas, and grabbed her bag before she placed the wrapped food parcel inside it.
Determined, Victoria left the room with small quiet steps, made her way to the same servant entrance she had used to go to Hector at the inn. Halfway down, she heard voices and stopped in fear as the voices seemed to come closer. She had painful visions of being found and reported but as she stood there, trembling in fear, the voices drifted further away.
Gasping in deep breaths, Victoria crept out the door and blinked the thick mist away from her eyes before she trod to the abandoned guardhouse. The soft pink rays of dawn were just lightening the sky as she circled the wall to see Hector standing there with his back to her.
“I’m here,” Victoria said, quietly but strong enough to be heard.
Hector turned to her and his face lightened as he strode to her. A few feet away he took in the bag she held in her hand and stopped, “Victoria, lass, what is this?”
“I’m going with you, Hector,” Victoria replied strongly. “And I won’t come back. If I stay here I will die.”
Chapter 17
Hector could not believe what he was hearing and his shocked disbelief was stamped on his face, but his inaction didn’t last long. Hurrying to Victoria he grasped her shoulders and looked with concern at her blue eyes that emitted pain.
Die! She cannae die! Not on me watch!
“Lass, are ye sure aboot this?” Hector asked while holding her eyes.
“Yes,” Victoria replied decisively while shooting a fearful look over her shoulder, “We must hurry, there’s not much time to delay.”
Not wasting another moment, Hector took the bag from her, and grabbed her cold hand, “C’mon, then.”
Swiftly, he guided both of them to the forest’s entr
ance and took the well-known trail back to Roran’s cottage where Donald was waiting for him with their horses ready. They had already said their goodbyes and gave thanks to Roran for his hospitality. Hector couldn’t stand staying still anymore and felt hard pressed to move. Even if this Mark Johnson didn’t have much to give them, Hector had decided to work on the little he did get.
Shooting looks over his shoulder, Hector both admired and hated the tense line of Victoria’s jaw as she followed him through the woods. It showed her determination but it also showed her hurt. Hector wasn’t sure when he could ask her what was the catalyst for her radical decision but knew that the time would eventually come.
Highlander's Forbidden Soulmate Page 14