The Laird and her father should have been back by then, and she wanted to know what they had learned from Clan Hofte. Was it too late though? Slipping her shoes on, she went to the door and was reaching out, only for her to hear it thud lightly.
Jerking her hand back in fright, she looked around the room for a weapon in case an unwanted visitor was about to barge into her room but found only an iron candlestick. Grasping it, she edged closer to the door only to have the thud turn into a slide, as if someone’s back was against it.
Completely bewildered, Violet reached out to the handle only to hear Ethan’s voice come through it. “She said I was too country for her…”
What? What on earth is he talking about?
It took her a moment to realize he was speaking about this Maria woman, who had hurt him back in the university. She put the candlestick back and after turned around to slid to the floor. With her back braced on the door, she asked, “Why?”
“Because I was a country boy, born and raised,” his tone was bitter. “I had little knowledge of how those in the city acted and went about their business. Soon enough I found that me accent was too crass and me words unrefined. Naything I did measured up to city standards but stubborn me tried me luck anyway. I did away with me kilts and gillies for knee-breeches, boots, and waistcoats. Changed me great kilt for a woolen cloak, and nearly exchanged me sanity for a woman who was far above me reach.”
Oh, how her heart ached for him, and she wished the door between them was not there so she could touch him, embrace him, anything. The pain, she heard in his voice called for comfort. But before she could do something, she had to allow him to exorcise the demons from his soul.
“The tipping point came one night, two years in, when I decided she would accept me or nay. She looked me right in me eyes and in the sweetest voice told me that there could never be anything between us,” a small thud had her imagining that he had laid his head back on the door and then she heard a small disparaging laugh, “Told me I’d never survive a day in the city with all me virtuous Highland morals and values. That I’d have to break the rules and dae some underhanded things to get anywhere in the city and that, if I continued with me virtuousness, I would be taken advantage of without mercy.”
His tone still had not lost the resentment only this time it was laced with cold acceptance, “So I did what I needed to dae, give up on winning her, finish me course at the school and come back home with me heart somewhere in the center of the iced peak of the Beinn Nibheis mountain.”
It was too much. She stood and tugged the door open and saw Ethan flail a little before he sat up and stood. She searched to see if Mister MacTyre was there but the hallway was empty. “Please,” she swallowed, “Come in.”
“I…” his chest heaved. “I shouldnae.”
But he stepped in any way and she went right into his arms, and pressed her face on his chest, “I was wrong, forgive me.”
His palm was smoothing up and down her back, and his hair tickled her left ear, “I ken, ye just took me off-kilter for a while. I ken ye never wanted to hurt me. It’s just…old memories flared up and I—” he breathed out, “—I dinnae handle it well.”
A long-fingered hand slid into her hair, and she trembled at its light grip, a soft push pressing her against his chest. His clothes smelled like river water and soap, but his warmth was the most prominent to her.
“I had been a lad and blinded by her beauty. I kent I had fallen in love with her but that was all. In the two years I kent I loved her, we, kissed only twice.”
She felt a spark of hope. “Ye never…”
His laugh was somewhat humored, “Bed her, nay.”
Violet could now relax in his arms. He had kissed the other woman only twice over two years. Ethan had kissed her more than twice in less than a month.
“Doesnae matter really,” he added as his lips traced her hairline. “All I saw then was her beauty. She was cold and followed every rule laid out for her. She had none of the appeal ye dae. To her, I was simply a means to an end.”
His tone had Violet twisting her head with a question, just in time for his lips to descend on hers. His kiss was tender but had an underlying spark of heat that grew when she allowed him in. Pressed on his chest, his hand slipped to the middle of her back and splayed there, while the other cradled her neck to twist it just so, for his kiss to deepen.
He only pulled away so that she could breathe and then his mouth was back on hers. With her arms looped around his shoulders and she wondered where this was coming from, if all this courage was spurred on by alcohol, but she did not taste anything on his tongue. His lips slid from her to nip and suckle at her earlobe and instantly, she was squirming under him.
From there, he trailed kisses down her throat, pausing to catch her skin in teeth and suckle at her pulse point. Violet’s knees buckled and in an easy motion, as if he had expected it, he swept her into his arms, carried her to the nearby bed, to gently lay her down on it.
Her breath caught when he joined her and before he laid next to her, he perched over her, with both elbows bracketing her head and his eyes inches away from hers. It was dim but his eyes glittered like jewels and his look was intense.
Reaching up, she cupped his face, “Ethan? What’s this?”
“Too many times, I’ve stopped meself from telling ye how I feel about ye. Ye make me feel again, and I want ye to feel how I dae,” he kissed her cheek. “Stop me at any time if ye want,” he said lowering himself onto her with a kiss.
He nibbled at her lips before sliding his tongue in and her thoughts began to blur. His firm lips moved against hers in a measured tone, but she could feel that he was holding something back. She wondered who he could be holding onto his control as hers was loosening and a feverish heat was growing under her skin.
Her hands slid into flaxen hair as he sucked on her tongue, making sparks dance up and down her spine, igniting, for the first time, a pebbling of her breasts. Pressed between him and the bed, she knew he had to feel it through her thin gown.
His mouth was consuming her, branding her as much as a hot iron to a calf’s hide, because dear God, she was burning up. When he cupped her breast, and his thumb swiped across the taut peak, her gasp was silent and her eyes grew dazed.
Sensations she had never imagined she would feel, were setting her nerve endings on fire. Ethan’s breath was skittering over her skin and while she was reeling from his touch when her body nearly jackknifed from the bed. His mouth was over her nipple, sucking at her through the dress.
Her skin felt itchy, desperate for something, but had not the first idea what that was. Ethan’s kiss, his warm touch, his body bracketing hers, one or the other…all three?
His mouth moved to her other puckered nipple and while his lips were sending her head in circles, his hand slid from her knee, pushing her dress up. The feel of his roughened hand on her smooth thigh was nearly unbearable. His touch was light but he felt every part deep into her core.
Ethan pulled away and at the moment she had to suck in a deep breath—rationality kicked in.
What am I doing? I can’t dae this—my god—
He had pulled down her bodice exposing her breasts in the air. She forgot all about the same when Ethan’s lips were suckling on a nipple while his hand played with another.
“Please, daenae stop,” she moaned, cupping his head to her chest. “Please.”
The kitten licks, flicking across the tight bud, went right to her center where heat was growing. His mouth around her was hot and slick and her mind was about to submerge in a pool of lust. His mouth pulled away and kissed back up to her neck before sliding to her mouth.
His kisses turned calmer and soothing and the fire under her skin began to ebb. When his hand slid through her hair and he dropped kisses on the edge of her mouth and cheek, she sighed. He slipped to her side and cuddle her close while she put her bodice back in place.
She breathed, “Why did ye stop?”
�
��Because,” he smoothed a thumb over her cheek, “Ye’re nay ready for what would come next.”
Knowing it might not help much she still asked, “And what would that be?”
A smile was her first answer before he spoke, “Just to say, it was going to be…more intense, but dinnae ye worry about that now. I feared I was going too far with ye but then, ye dinnae stop me so, I figured…” he kissed her cheek.
She tried to piece together the events that had preceded her lying on her bed with Ethan close to her. “May I ask… how did this come along?”
His lips pressed a little, and his gaze strayed from her briefly, a spasm of emotion crossed his face, and his eyes showed raw yearning, “Mayhap it was because sitting by yer door I realized the difference. Maria was beautiful, aye, blond, willowy and cultured but her spirit was false. She held me on strings like a marionette and lead me along with words. Yer words are true, I can feel yer care for me whenever ye even look at me. I ken ye dinnae want to hurt me whenever ye contradict me but every time ye’ve done it, it was for the best. Ye might not be as cultured or a soothsayer, but ye are loyal, brave and honest. Maria was none of those things.” He laughed. “I ken she would have a conniption if ye even suggested she wear a pair of trousers.”
“And all that just…coalesced into kissing me?” she asked.
“Half of it was.” He snaked an arm around her back and nudged her close. “But the other half is…I may nae have it all together and I may nae ken many things but there is one I dae…I ken I beginning to love ye, Violet.”
His whispered confession in the dark was louder than a blaring horn to her ears. Her shock was so was intense, that it took her a while to fully internalize what he had said. Twice her mouth opened only to shut over the wrong answer and when on the third, her true emotions pushed themselves forward before her doubt.
“And I was kenning I was the only one,” she replied, in a voice as hushed as his had been.
The soft kiss she earned from her confession was sweet and decidedly loving. His body was close, his touch tender and his gaze loaded with affection. “I dinnae want ye to leave.”
“Neither dae I,” she added.
Lying there with him so close, she was able to dream, of things that might never be. One with Ethan, where she had a band of gold around her finger, one where she woke up to snow-capped mountains, and one where she came to a bedroom warmed by a fire and a bed with her husband. But now… her head twisted away and uncertainty began to lace through her as much as the fire he had awakened inside her did.
“We’ll get through this,” he said, nudging her head back with his knuckles.
Wordlessly, she just rested her head on the arm he provided and closed her eyes. “I hope so.”
* * *
Ethan was gone when she woke the next day but that did not stop the smile from spreading across her face. She reached out and felt the cold sheets but still smiled anyway. She slid her hand over his vacant place and reflected on how Ethan had been with her last night.
Perhaps, there was a future with him here. Reluctantly, she slid out of the bed and went to do a quick washing and put on a new dress. With her hair down and a soft peaceful emotion resting on her chest, she went to the great hall and saw Ethan, his father, and his uncle there. The two were talking to themselves while Ethan stabbed at his food with a sullenness that she had not expected after their lovely night.
She mounted the dais and greeted the men but her attention was directed on Ethan. When she did meet his eyes, she saw deep confliction there. Taking a seat, she cocked a curious look at him but then was drawn to the Laird’s conversation.
“—The Laird is nay a part of it,” Mister MacFerson said. “I dinnae ken he would dae anything or let anyone instigate trouble between ye after all the measures Finley put in to have peace between us and them.”
Her lips parted in surprised realization as she shot an understanding look to Ethan. No wonder he was looking put-out, the Laird Hofte had denied any wrongdoing on his part and with him cleared as suspect, they had run into another dead end. She reached out to touch him but quickly drew her back. Her aborted move, however, was caught by the Laird’s brother, who, after a furrowed brow, went back to finishing his conversation. Her father was notably absent.
A trencher of cold roasted meat and roll of warm flaky bread was placed before her; she had the presence of mind to utter a thank you before eating. Ethan finished his meal and left with an agitated stride; although she wanted to go and offer any help she could, she stayed and ate. He was probably headed off to the stables to ride anyway and it was prudent for him to work off his emotions in the best way he knew.
With her eyes focused on the trencher, she tried to piece through this mystery. If it was not the once-rival Clan behind the murder of Finley or the sudden mysterious poisoning of Miss O’Bachnon, who was it? Who could be so insidious that they would kill an innocent man and single mother?
Whoever it is, he is a heartless man, that’s for sure.
The sound of boots on the dais made her look up and spotted her father bending to speak to the Laird. His face was calm, but she knew from all the times she observed him that he was most calm when times and situations were dire. Laird MacFerson nodded curtly and excused himself from his brother while her father was gesturing for her to come along as well.
Satisfied that she had eaten her fill, she stood, while Mister MacFerson was protesting. “Shouldnae I come with ye? I’m happy to assist if ye need me.”
The Laird dropped a hand on his brother’s slimmer shoulder. “Nae this time Callum, we dinnae need ye this time, but thanks for the offer.”
Mister MacFerson’s brow ticked up. “History has shown, brother, that every time ye say that ye daenae need me help, it is a forerunner of me having to come in later and fix whatever mistake ye’ve made. Dae ye want to continue that cycle?”
Laird MacFerson snorted. “Twice I had an issue with collecting me taxes and ye used yer book knowledge to fix it, and now ye bring that up? How long are ye going to ride that horse, Callum? I’ll see ye this evening.”
With a wry shake of his head, Mister MacFerson went back to finishing his meal, and Violet followed her father and the Laird. They took the corridor to his meeting room and upon entering, her first thought was that Ethan should be with them, but as she was thinking it, Ethan came in. His expression was guarded but underneath it, his eyes flashed worry.
He sat, and before anyone spoke, he did. “Where dae we go from here?” His bopping Adam’s apple was visibly showing his uncertainty. “If Clan Hofte isnae behind this…what are we going to dae?”
Darting a look at her father, the only person who could take the discussion from there, she was proven right when he said, “I have a dire suspicion that the enemy will strike again soon. News has spread about our search, our trip to Clan Hofte, and the death of Miss O’Bachnon, and I ken this perpetrator will strike while we have nay avenue to investigate.”
“Which means what?” Ethan asked.
“One of ye will have to leave,” her father replied. “I can only protect one of ye, Laird MacFerson and Master MacFerson, someone will have to leave, and the other stay, possibly in a secluded, safe space until everything's done and the danger has passed,” her father finished with his eyes shifting between the Laird and his son.
Leaning back in his chair, Ethan rubbed his face. “It only makes sense for me to leave. Faither is needed much more here and I... I ken the best place for me to be is our old hunting cabin. It’s out of the way and just the fo—three of us kens where it is.”
His abbreviated word, four, must have included Finley, himself, his father, and his uncle?
“When dae ye need me to leave?” he asked, his tone flat and monotone.
The air was getting tense and Violet felt that she might have to give them some privacy by leaving. She made to stand when the Laird shook his head. “Son, I dinnae want this, ye ken this is the farthest thing from what I want but…it must
be done if yer life is in danger.”
Shifting in his seat, Ethan gave a thin smile. “I dae, but this is the best for all of us.”
Uneasy that she was in the middle of a room where, for all that mattered, a private conversation made her sink into the stonework, she kept as silent as she could. But her insides were topsy-turvy. Ethan was leaving and she did not know how long it would be before she saw him again. And especially after last night…could they just leave it all to dangle in the wind?
“It is,” the Laird added with a tight grimace. “How it got to this point—” his close fist landed on the desk with a loud thud. “I swear on me grandfather’s grave, I’ll send whoever pushed us so far into the lowest point of hell, even if I have to stand at the mouth and throw him in meself.”
Ethan stood and embraced him, his broad shoulders shuddering almost imperceivably. “I ken ye will, Faither.”
The Highlander's Captured Bride (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance) Page 17