“Did you know,” she said to Delia, “I lost my mother a month ago.”
Delia nodded. “Stone says that even though they can’t be here with us, they still love us and they’re still with us.”
Stone had said that? She swiped her brow. What a beautiful way to explain the loss of a parent to a child. “He’s right.” She wanted to sweep up the girl in her arms and hug her, but instead she kept leading her away from the shop. It was strange, she hadn’t felt a connection like this to anyone in a long time. Certainly since her mother had fallen ill. Swallowing, she looked down at the girl’s face. She wanted to see Delia grow and know that this sweet child would overcome her loss.
That wasn’t going to happen. She’d leave eventually and the Sinclairs would be a memory. Stone wouldn’t need her father’s full-time services forever.
A little voice reminded her that she could stay. Allow her father to make a match and be Stone’s wife. Besides Delia, what other good could she do? But what if Stone was as hard as they said? Then she’d be tied to him forever. That was a risk, for sure.
The village opened to a small beach and Eliza began walking down the path toward the shore. When they arrived, she searched about the sand looking for smooth pebbles. Delia began to collect shells.
Finally, Eliza found the two she was looking for. “In my valise, I have a rock that my mother and I had found on a walk. When I miss her, I rub its smooth surface and think of all of our times together.” She dropped the two rocks she’d found in the sand into Delia’s hand, her little fingers wrapping around them. One was nearly white and the other a charcoal grey. “I know you didn’t find these with your mother and father but, perhaps, when you wish to speak with them you can rub them in your hand to feel closer to them.”
She opened her fingers again and inspected the stones, her eyebrows drawing together. “What if the stones don’t make me feel closer to them?”
“We will find something that does. I only picked rocks first because your father’s title, and now your brother’s, is Alban.”
Delia’s eyebrows crinkled together. “True, we are a family of stone. We made a promise on their stone too that we’d keep each other safe and love each other always.”
Eliza’s heart came up in her throat. What a touching gesture. It made her wish she had a sibling of her own. It was more difficult to share her grief with her father; their loss was different. “That’s wonderful.”
“I’ll bring these stones to their grave and see if they approve.” Delia’s brows lifted and the corners of her mouth turned up.
“What a splendid idea.” She reached down to stroke the girl’s cheek. “And come talk to me any time. I will always understand.”
Delia nodded and then began skipping up the path again.
Stone looked out of his office window to see Eliza and Delia standing about his parents’ grave stone. At least he thought it was them. It was difficult to tell from this distance. It was possible that it was another woman and child. One of the widows, perhaps, but he didn’t think so. Something in the way the girl moved looked like his sister.
He rose from his desk and stepped closer to the window. He didn’t want to speak to Eliza again. After he’d rescued her, he’d noticed the tug of attraction but the kiss? The feel of her lips, soft and warm against his, had nearly undone his will.
And that will was as ironclad as his nickname, Fire and Brimstone. He never allowed himself to give in to his desires—ever.
He nearly had once. He’d met a beautiful red-haired woman in the village. She’d given him a coquettish smile and a wink as she’d walked past and he’d followed. Before he’d known it, he’d found himself in an alley with her, his breeches undone, her skirts about her waist. She ravaged him with kisses, their panting breaths mingling until he could think of little else other than satisfaction.
He’d pressed against her warmth and he’d been frantic for more, for all of it.
“I want to feel ye inside me,” she’d said in a breathy whisper that made him even hotter. Her next words however, had stopped him cold. “I want to know what it’s like to lie with the devil.”
He’d jerked his head back and looked deep into her green eyes. He’d seen nothing but confusion in them. She’d had little understanding of how much those words had crushed him. “Ye’ll have to find another,” he’d growled. “I won’t be yer sinful delight.” Then he’d pulled up his breeches and yanked down her skirt before he’d walked away.
Over the years, other women had tried to bed him. But in the back of his mind, he’d questioned each of their motives. And so, always, he kept his distance. Blair was the only of his brothers who was really aware of how little he dallied with women, though he didn’t think Blair understood the full extent of his abstinence. “Why not just lie with a woman?” he’d asked on more than one occasion. “It might help erase that scowl,” he’d jested.
That only made Stone’s scowl sharpen. The truth was, his hurt ran deeper than he’d ever let anyone see. And he’d never be able to forgive of himself if the woman he was with thought him evil.
He pushed back from the window and headed for the door. He didn’t know why. Every instinct told him to stay away from Eliza. Her dislike for him was thinly veiled. He’d only receive more of the same treatment from her as he had from the woman whom he’d dallied with in the past.
He argued, however, that her kiss said otherwise. Her lips had spoken of passion and longing.
Perhaps that was why he sought her out now. He wanted to know why she had done it, a question he most certainly couldn’t ask in front of her father. He didn’t want to admit to himself that part of him simply wanted to see her. To be close to her. He could not have these feelings. It would only wound him in the end.
He moved out of the house and started climbing the steep hill to where the Kirkyard sat. Now that he was closer, he could see that is was Delia and Eliza and he watched as Eliza swung his sister up into her arms. Delia’s arms wrapped about Eliza’s neck as she snuggled her face into the woman’s neck.
He swallowed a lump in his throat. She’d been correct in his office. He did need to marry. Not only for the title, but more so for Delia. But he’d never even trusted a woman enough to share his bed with her, how could he share his life? His family?
Eliza set down Delia and his sister spotted him. She came bounding over. “Stone,” she called waving her fist in the air. “Look what Eliza gave me.” She opened her hand to reveal a dark and light pebble. “Eliza says I can touch them to feel closer to Mama and Papa.”
Stone looked up to Eliza who gave a small shrug her eyes casting to the ground. “I have to confess to having an object like that as well. It helps me when I’m verra sad.”
He stared at her. Her honest admission stunned him into silence. He opened his mouth several times to speak. “I hadn’t thought of something like that.” Looking down at his sister again, he touched the stones in her hands. Giving his sister a physical comfort had been a good idea. “They’re beautiful.”
Delia smiled at him. “I think so too. I’m going to show Blair.” Then she skipped off toward the house.
Stone turned to Eliza. Gratitude made his words rougher than normal. “Thank ye, fer that, lass.”
She watched Delia rather than looking at him. “Ye’re welcome.”
Even Stone understood that she regretted her earlier behavior. Or perhaps she was just embarrassed because she’d kissed him. A pang reverberated through his chest. Did women normally feel remorse for simple kisses? There was only one way to find out. In just a few strides he reached her side. “I want tae talk to ye about what happened in the carriage.”
Her eyes flew to his then. “Must we?” she squeaked.
Despite himself, he smiled. Something in her reaction soothed him. As though her feelings mirrored his own. “I think so. I spend a great deal of time with your father.”
She huffed a little. “That is a fair point.” Her hands twisted together. “I shoul
d like to apologize then. I don’t know what came over me and, honestly, I won’t try to do it again.”
His smile broadened. For some reason, her response was both amusing and heartwarming. It was nothing like the last time he’d attempted intimacy. She was flustered and embarrassed with her own behavior. “Fair enough.”
Her brow crinkled further. “Ye need to stop smiling like that. It’s making this all the more difficult.”
“Like what?” he asked, even more curious.
“With all that…charm.” She waved her hand up toward his face. “It’s distracting.”
He couldn’t help it. It only made him smile wider. It pulled at his cheeks, almost hurting his face. “No one has ever, in my entire life, referred to me as charming.”
Her mouth hung open and her eyes widened. “No one? Really? I am likely going about this all wrong. I must confess that I’ve never had a suitor.” She stopped making a choking sound. “Not that you’re a suitor. But I’ve never kissed anyone and I am making a dreadful mess of this.”
That made him pause. “Never?” He stepped a little closer then. “Has anyone ever kissed you?”
“You,” she whispered so softly that he almost didn’t hear it and he was a hair’s breadth away from her. He didn’t say a word as the wind whistled about them. He searched her face for any amount of deception, but all he could find was fear and honesty.
Taking her chin between his thumb and his forefinger, he looked down at her, leaning so close their mouths practically touched. “Marry me, lass.”
If he’d thought her eyes wide before, they took up half her face now. “What?” she squeaked. “It was only one kiss.” He felt her swallow, her muscles in her throat working. “I couldn’t possibly. We don’t even know each other. I—”
He silenced her protests with a kiss. He was not a man plagued by indecision. Decisive action was one of his greatest assets and he’d made a decision just now.
His lips moved over hers and she remained motionless at first but then, she began to respond, tentatively meeting his gentle movements. The rest of his body remained still, not wanting to overwhelm or frighten her. As their lips moved together and he gently opened hers to sweep his tongue along her bottom lip. She moaned as she pressed her body into his. When her hands came to his chest and then slid up around his neck, he deepened the kiss further by sweeping his tongue against hers.
She shuddered even as she pressed closer. He’d kept his other hand at his side, trying to give her room to escape if she chose. But his will, that he’d always considered unbreakable, began to bend and he found that hand resting in the small of her back, pressing them together. When she moaned into his lips he nearly came undone. The urge to carry her off and make love to her nearly broke his control.
He ripped his lips away. He started to step back but she swayed on her feet. So he stayed, holding her as her gaze slowly came back into focus. His own breathing was ragged and he tried to calm his racing heart and his suddenly wayward will.
“Tell me you’ll consider it,” he finally said.
“What?” She gazed up at him, her eyes clouding again.
“My marriage proposal,” he growled.
She blinked several times. “You were serious?”
He did step back then. “I was.”
But rather than looking abandoned or upset, she gave him a glowing smile. “There’s the scowl. I hardly recognized you without it.”
Had she gone completely daft? “Is that yer way of saying no?”
Chapter Seven
He’d gone mad. That was the only explanation for why Stone had proposed. She tried to formulate an answer. “I’m not sure we’re even a good match.”
“I’ve already decided that we are.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his voice low and deep.
She looked out over the water. How did she say, I’m not sure how I feel about you. “Yes, but still.” Her hands smoothed down her skirts. “We’re both in mourning and we’ve only just met.”
He gave a grunt. In any other man it would have been unattractive but somehow, with him, it only made her want to be closer. “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “So what do ye suggest?”
She gave a shrug. “That we get to know one another?” She needed time to decide the type of man he was and, if he proved as bad as they said, she’d need time to weasel out of all this.
“Like courting?” He furrowed his brow and scrunched his nose as though he’d smelled something awful.
“Exactly like that.” She held her breath. “I know you’re certain but not all of us are as…decisive as you.”
“Fair enough.” He gave a single nod.
Relief made her shoulders slump. “Thank you.”
“I have to warn ye, I’ve no idea how tae court. I’m not good with pretty words and flowery gestures.” He rubbed at his forehead and Eliza softened. His admittance was somehow more sweet than any bouquet.
“I don’t mind,” she answered, reaching for his hand.
He gave a nod, his shoulders relaxing. “Should we tell your father?”
“No.” The single word jumped out rather quickly and she lowered her hand again. “He would not understand that we were testing the waters.” He’d likely insist that she take the offer of marriage post haste. Lord Alban was titled and wealthy. Perhaps he’d be right. But this was the man she’d spend her life with. She just wanted to get to know the real him first, not the rumors. And maybe with a little time, not the man who had just lost his parents.
In fact, Stone’s proposal was rather convenient considering her father had suggested the match yesterday. “Did the two of you plan this entire thing?”
“What the devil are ye talking about?” He crossed his arms but she would not be intimidated.
“You and my father. Did you decide to match us?” She stood straighter too. It didn’t have quite the same effect but it was her best attempt at intimidation. Her father had dragged her on this trip, forced her to leave her home. She would not be pushed into a marriage without her consent, forced by a hard man to live a life that wasn’t her own. Dear lord. She caught her breath. She was afraid that Stone was like her father. A man who would force his will upon her.
“Yer father and I have not discussed marriage in any capacity,” he rumbled. “But I fail to understand why it would matter if we had.”
That sounded a lot like he was qualifying his answer. “My father needs to understand that this is my life and so do you.” She was afraid to say more. Eliza needed time to sort all of this out. If she pushed Stone away too hard, he’d go to her father and then her fate would be decided without her consent. “I didn’t mean that. I just want time to decide. That’s all.”
“Then time ye’ll have.” He offered her his elbow. She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. His touch eased some of the tension their words had created. It only confused her more.
That evening Delia arrived in her room with a folded piece of parchment. “It’s for you,” the little girl chirped as she handed it to her, bouncing into the room.
“Thank you.” Eliza grinned as she unfolded it and found an invitation to dinner in the kitchen. “Did you write this?”
“Stone helped me.” Delia plopped herself on the bed.
Stone. It warmed her to think of seeing him again this evening. What did that mean?
Setting aside her question, she gave Delia a smile. “I’d love to join you for dinner.”
“Wonderful!” The little girl clapped. “I have to bring an invitation to your father now.” Delia bounced back toward the door. “I’m going to help cook for you too.”
“I can hardly wait.” She gave the girl a soft smile. Delia stopped. She reached into a pocket in her skirt and pulled out her little fist. Holding it up, she opened her fingers to show Eliza the two stones. Her voice dropped as the little girl leaned forward. “I’ve had them in my pocket. They make me feel better.”
Eliza crossed over to where the little girl stood an
d bending down, she placed a kiss on the girl’s forehead. “I’m so glad. Talk to me any time, all right?”
The little girl nodded and her eyes grew distant. “Will it hurt less?”
“It will,” she whispered. Surprisingly, she meant it. Being here had made her feel better and the hurt had lessened.
Dropping to her knees, she wrapped the little girl in a hug. Delia’s little arms clutched about her neck. The little girl smelled of sunshine and flowers. For whatever reason, when Stone had asked her about marriage, she hadn’t considered the fact that accepting meant that she would be starting a family of her own. Her own children to hold. The thought nearly took her breath away and a yearning started deep inside her.
As she released Delia, the child gave her an impish grin before opening the door and leaving as quickly as she’d come.
But her thoughts were on Delia and Stone for the rest of the afternoon and she found herself wandering down to the kitchen well before mealtime.
It was clear that several family members had already assembled by the number of voices she heard. Male and female laughter punctuated the words, though she couldn’t make them out. As she rounded the doorway, she stood, taking in the scene before her.
Several of the kitchen staff worked as they talked and one was helping Delia to roll out some sort of dough. Meanwhile, Blair, Stone, and William sat at the table. They smiled at their sister and chatted with the staff, all who seemed at ease with the men in the kitchen.
“Eliza,” Stone called as he locked gazes with her. “Join us.”
She clasped her hands together. “I apologize for being early. I’m not quite sure what to do with myself here.” She stepped into the room.
“No need to apologize.” Blair gave her a small wink. “We’re always happy to have company.”
She gave him a small nod of thanks for his kind words as Stone gestured for her to take the chair next to him. It seemed odd, that she might be at such a place of honor but then again, they were sitting in the kitchen. Not that she minded. It was very nice actually. It was relaxed and there was a feeling of love and kinship here. Once more, it made her wish she’d had more family. She could see how they all drew comfort from one another. “It’s a lovely tradition, all of you eating down here.”
Scottish Devil (Brethren of Stone Book 1) Page 5