Never Kiss a Scot

by Lauren Smith

  He studied her face, the way her dark-gold brows softened when she was relaxed, and yet he remembered how they could arch imperiously when she wished to challenge someone. Her lips were not too full, nor were they the desired Cupid’s bow pout that many men deemed pretty. They were simply kissable lips, ones that curved into a breathtaking smile whenever she was happy. Her eyes, though hidden from him now, were twin pools that he wanted to bathe in, to dive deep and explore the depths of her soul, if she would let him. He could’ve stared at her sleeping form for centuries. She brought him out of the darkness he felt so trapped in.

  He dreaded what would happen when her brother caught up with them. Brock did not want to fight Lennox again, especially when he knew it would upset Joanna. What if he lost control when he took one punch too many from the Englishman? He’d lost his temper before, years ago when he’d fought the Earl of Lonsdale and the Duke of Essex over a barmaid who’d fancied Brodie. They’d destroyed the inn, but thankfully not each other.

  He kissed Joanna’s forehead and slid out of bed before he tucked the bedsheets securely around her. He dressed in fresh clothes from one of the saddlebags and shaved himself before he left Joanna alone in the room. He wished to check on the horses and acquire some more wine. Joanna would need to lunch, and he wanted to make sure she had a full belly. Castle Kincade was more than a full day’s ride from Gretna Green but they wouldn’t reach it until dinner the following day. They would hire a coach for the rest of the journey and tie their horses to the back of it.

  He found their horses in good shape in the stables and took care to search their extra saddlebags for blankets. Then he groomed each, chuckling as Joanna’s horse, Kaylee, nibbled on his shoulder while he flicked the brush against her coat, making it shine.

  “You’ve done well,” he praised her. “You’ve brought your mistress safely to Gretna Green, and you need not worry about another wild race.” He brushed out her mane, removing the tangles caused by the winds blowing down the northern English roads. Then he saw to his own horse, who was far more used to mad dashes like this. All the while, Brock felt a warmth stir in his chest as he realized how much his life had changed. He would soon return to his rooms and find his wife waiting for him, warm and sweet in their bed.

  I’m a lucky man to be gifted with her as my wife.

  He exited the stables and stood there for a moment, taking in the bustle of the village, the carriages lining up at the smithy across the street. Mr. Lang stood outside the forge, welcoming a new couple inside. When he saw Brock, he gave a wave and a nod, which Brock returned. The smells coming from the meat and spices inside the inn, made his stomach growl. It would soon be time for lunch, and they could both use another meal after eating so thinly the last two days.

  He was returning from the stables when the thunder of hooves drew his focus. It was unusual to have so many riders grouped together. Gretna usually had single riders or coaches. Brock brushed off his trousers and risked a glance toward the men.

  Bloody hell! There was Lennox, a thunderous expression on his face. Five of his companions rode behind in a phalanx formation. Brock frowned, worry knotting his insides. He’d hoped for more time with Joanna before having to face her brother. He wondered if the damned Sassenachs had slept at all the last couple of days.

  Lennox slid off his horse and headed straight into the blacksmith’s shop. The others dismounted and waited nearby. Brock watched them unseen from his vantage point at the door of the stables. He was tempted to rouse Joanna and get her dressed and bundled into the nearest available coach, but that would not stop the coming storm, only delay it. He would have to face Lennox. Best if he spared her the pain of witnessing it.

  Lennox stormed out of the blacksmith shop, clearly aware that he was too late. Brock stepped out of the doorway of the stables. Jonathan St. Laurent, one of Lennox’s friends, was the first to see him. He whistled sharply with his fingers, drawing the attention of the others. Within seconds, Brock was surrounded by the League of Rogues.

  “You…bloody bastard!” Lennox bellowed and dove at Brock, slamming him against the outside wall of the stable. He grunted as the air was forced from his lungs. Brock was beginning to wonder if every encounter with Lennox was going to end in a fight from now on.

  “Where is she?” Lennox demanded, delivering a right hook that hit him hard in the eye. It was going to bruise, he could feel it.

  He growled, shoving hard at Lennox’s shoulder, sending him stumbling back. “She’s safe.”

  “Married to you? Safe? I don’t think so.”

  That set Brock’s anger ablaze, but he summoned his control, refusing to fight back. When he looked at the man’s face, he saw Joanna’s bright-blue eyes burning into his. Punching Lennox would be like hitting his own wife. Impossible.

  “Where is she? I want to see her!” Lennox demanded.

  “Calm yourself first. I’ll not have you upsetting my wife.” The moment the word left his lips, he knew it was a mistake. But he accepted the blows that would come because he deserved to let Lennox strike him. He had stolen the man’s sister away without his blessing.

  “Don’t you dare call her that!” Lennox hit him again, this time on the jaw. He tasted blood when his teeth sank into his cheek.

  “I assume since you visited the blacksmith shop that you know we were married yesterday,” Brock said as he wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Ash, calm down,” Godric, the Duke of Essex, said. “You knew we not likely to reach them in time. There’s nothing to be done now.”

  “Isn’t there?” Lennox snapped. “If we take Joanna home now, we can still annul the marriage.”

  “You can’t,” Brock said. “We are fully man and wife now.” He couldn’t deny the relief he felt in that moment. He hadn’t wanted to rush Joanna into consummation, but this was the very reason why they had. Thank God their passion had swept over them so quickly.

  “Oh Lord,” Lucien, the Marquess of Rochester, muttered. “You consummated it, didn’t you?”

  Brock answered with a nod.

  Lennox, rather than throwing another punch, went very still. “I ought to shoot you.” The cold menace in his tone would strike fear in any other man, but not Brock. He had grown up with an abusive father. There was very little Lennox could do or say that would frighten him.

  “I swear to you, I will be a good husband to her,” Brock replied quietly. “She’ll want for nothing.”

  “Because you’ll use her fortune,” Lennox said. “Does she know you married her for her money?”

  “It wasn’t about the money,” Brock assured him. “I wanted her for her.”

  Lennox harrumphed. “Of course you would say that.”

  Anger rose within Brock, despite himself. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  “Time will tell. When she comes home with a broken heart…”

  “She won’t.” If anyone risked a broken heart, it was him. Joanna could decide he and his home weren’t enough, and she might go back to England. It was why he was so determined not to love her. He would care for her, but never love her. She would break his very soul if he dared to give her his heart.

  “I want to see her. Now.”

  There was no winning that argument. Brock sighed and walked back to the inn, Lennox and his friends following once they put their horses in the stables.

  “Wait here. I’ll bring her down. You’ll only upset her if you go barging in.” He nodded to a large empty table in the common room. The men all took their seats except for Lennox, who stood, arms crossed, at the base of the stairs to await his sister.

  Brock climbed the steps, heart heavy as he ran to the room he’d shared with Joanna. She’d rolled onto her back in the time that he’d been gone, and he couldn’t resist walking over to the bed and leaning over to kiss her. She sighed dreamily, kissing him back before she opened her eyes and stretched out like a contented cat. Lord, why did he have to ruin this moment by telling her Lennox had caught up w
ith them? If he’d had the ability to stop time, freeze it to just this moment, where he held his wife in his arms and kissed her…

  But he was no sorcerer, no keeper of time, and he was powerless to stop whatever would come next.

  She looked over his clothed body. “You left?”

  “Yes, I went to check on the horses.”

  “What happened? Your eye’s red, and your mouth… Is that blood?” She bolted up in bed, briefly aware that she exposed her perfect breasts to him when the blankets dropped to her waist. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

  “Aye. Lennox and his friends are downstairs. You should get dressed and go speak with him.”

  “Oh Lord…” She leapt out of bed, rushing to her saddlebag and retrieving a clean set of clothes.

  “Did he hurt you?” she asked while changing.

  “I’ve had worse.” He couldn’t help but watch the adorable sway of her rounded bottom as she hopped into her petticoats and pulled on her stockings. He assisted her with her stays and gown, although he was a bit clumsy with the buttons on the dress. She dragged a comb through her hair and used one of the pink hair ribbons that had handfasted them to tie her hair back at the base of her neck. It made her look young and vulnerable in a way that tore at him. Brock’s heart ached at the thought of what she must be feeling, knowing she was soon going to face a very angry brother.

  “He is down in the common room,” Brock said when she turned to him, ready to leave. She followed him downstairs and clutched his arm when she saw Lennox and his gang waiting for her.

  “Joanna, are you all right?” her brother asked in a rigid voice that matched his posture.

  “Of course I am.” She let go of Brock’s arm and moved to stand in front of him like a shield. Warmth filled him as he noticed her protectiveness, not that he needed it. Or perhaps he did, just not in the way she imagined.

  “I would like to speak with you alone,” Lennox said.

  “Whatever you wish to say, my husband can hear as well.”

  Lennox shot him a look, then focused back on his sister. “Very well. So you married him, and from what I understand it cannot be annulled.”

  “No, it can’t.” She did not wilt under Ashton’s disapproving gaze this time. She seemed different. Not because she had slept with Brock, but because she had taken her destiny into her own hands and had done what she wanted. Brock imagined it must have felt empowering for her. At least, he hoped she felt empowered.

  Lennox was still scowling at her. “And you won’t come home, even if I beg?”

  “No, and I know you wouldn’t beg—you’d simply command me. But you can’t now. I’m a married woman, like Thomasina.”

  “Thomasina chose a safer husband than you did.”

  Brock tried not to scowl at Lennox. The man seemed to have no problem insulting him. It was a very good thing he could control his temper, because by his count he owed Lennox a couple of good punches.

  “Who I married was always my choice, Ashton. I’m quite content with my decision. If you cannot accept it, then perhaps you should leave.” Joanna raised her chin, not in a silly childish way, but in a womanly way that told Lennox he no longer held any power over her. Brock had to bite his lip to keep from grinning. He had married a warrior, and she was battling her brother quite well.

  “Jo…I don’t want to leave.” Lennox’s tone softened. “I want to make sure you’re happy, that you’re well. I don’t want you to end up brokenhearted when you learn Kincade only married you for your money.”

  Joanna’s spine stiffened. Brock could see it in the sudden rigid posture of her body.

  “How dare you,” she warned in a soft tone. “That is no longer your business. It is a matter between me and my husband.” She looked over at Brock. “I’m going back to our room to pack our things. We shall not stay the night after all. I want to leave at once and see my new home.” She stomped past him, as fierce as a warrior queen of old dismissing her unruly generals.

  Brock tugged on his waistcoat and then met Lennox’s pointed stare.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I must go hire a coach.” He paused, clearing his throat. “Please don’t make her sad, Lennox. Go make amends with her. She’s in the last room on the left.” Then he walked past the League and headed toward the stables again.

  No one tried to stop him.

  15

  Joanna was so angry and upset that she was shaking. This was her wedding day! She should have been enraptured, wrapped in her husband’s arms, relishing the intimacy of their bed, the feel of the fire from the fireplace and the wine sweetening Brock’s lips as they kissed. She was not supposed to be dealing with her bloody stubborn brother and his nonsensical ideas about what was best for her.

  When she heard the knock, she thought it was Brock and hastily opened the door. Ashton stood there, one hand flat on the doorjamb. She was half tempted to slam the door on his fingers. They shared a long look, a flurry of emotions passing between them.

  This should have been a happy reunion, Ashton hugging her tight and accepting her kiss on his cheek while she told him how happy she was. But that was never going to be the case. Instead, there was anger, sorrow, and distrust between them, clouding over the sunny memories of their youth together. She’d often heard that siblings could grow apart over time, but she’d never believed it would happen to them. As she looked upon him now, she wanted him to be gone from here, gone from her life. The realization left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she suddenly wanted to cry.

  “I’m sorry, Joanna.” He choked on the words, but then he wrapped his arms around her before she could stop him.

  She fought against his hold for a minute, not wanting to find any comfort in his arms, but it was impossible. Ashton had always been the big brother who was there for her. Rafe, as loving as he was, was rarely around and couldn’t be counted on for any kind of support. She shuddered, a wave of emotions pulling at her heart. Ashton was safe, he was family, and she was leaving him behind. She had married and lain with a man, a near stranger, and was now mistress of his castle. It was her new life, and she had to face it with an open mind and an open heart.

  “I can still take you home. You have but to say the word,” Ashton murmured, holding her tighter.

  “No. Please understand, I want to stay with him. I chose him.” She couldn’t explain the complexity of her feelings, how she would miss her old life, her friends, everything, but she needed to see this through. She wanted to learn to be brave, to explore the wilds of Scotland with her husband, and to win his heart, even if it took a lifetime. It was frightening, though, to know she had many battles ahead of her.

  “He will be a good husband, Ash. He already is. He’s been so gentle, so caring.” She pulled away from her brother so she could look up into his eyes.

  “Bu—”

  “I know you’re worried he will change, but I see kindness in his eyes. He cares, he’s kind. There is no cruelty in him. Even when we…” She blushed and skipped over the embarrassing words. “He could have been harsh and cold, but it was quite the opposite. I loved being with him and was cherished. He makes me feel so protected. I want to stay with him.”

  Ashton sighed. For a long moment he said nothing, and then nodded, accepting her decision at last. “Very well. Mother will be upset she missed your wedding. Shall I bring her to visit soon?” He spoke casually, but she didn’t miss the regret and sorrow in his eyes.

  Joanna nodded. “Please. You should all come. Give me a month to get settled with Brock at the castle and then bring her, Rafe, and Thomasina, if she has time to visit.”

  “I can do that.” Ashton pulled her into another hug, and Joanna could feel his hesitancy to let go.

  “It’s all right to let go, Ash. You have a wife now, and I have a husband. We aren’t children anymore. It’s time we grew up.”

  He chuckled, though his smile was sad as he released her. “When did you become so wise?”

  “A few days ago,” Joanna said, laughing. She
already felt so changed from since Ashton’s wedding day. It felt like a lifetime ago.

  “You don’t have to leave the inn,” Ashton said. “You can stay here with…” Ashton seemed to choke on the next words. “Your husband.”

  “We should go. I believe Brock has much at the castle to tend to, and I am looking forward to helping him.”

  Ashton nodded. “I am proud of you, Jo. You are making your own way in the world. I just wish you could have done it in a less…dramatic fashion.”

  “Drama would seem to run in our veins, wouldn’t you say? Haven’t you forgotten that your own wife showed up on your doorstep in the middle of a rainstorm because you’d bankrupted her? I daresay a race to Gretna Green was far less dramatic.”

  “You are right.” He kissed her forehead and smiled. “Let me chase down Kincade and tell him all is well.”

  Joanna watched her brother leave and bit her lip, holding back the tears that stung at her eyes. All would be well; she had to believe that. She packed the rest of her belongings in her saddlebag and waited for Brock to return. When he did, he raked a hand through his hair, watching her carefully.

  “You and Lennox sort things out?” he asked.

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  “But you still wish to leave?” She didn’t miss the apparent disappointment on his face. Did he think she didn’t want to spend another night with him?

  “I’m nervous about your home, and my brothers always taught me to face my fears. I think we should go straight to Castle Kincade.”

  “You fear my home?” The disappointment in his eyes deepened into concern.

  “No!” She rushed over to him but stopped just inches away. She wanted to hold him, to feel his heartbeat against her ear, but how could she? They were still so new to each other in so many ways that she wasn’t sure what else to do. She reached up to his face, gently touching his bruised jaw. It was already swelling.