Kissing the Lass (Scot to the Heart #2)

by Charles, Jane

  “Would it be possible to have a small crop of barley and wheat?”

  Gideon lifted an eyebrow in warning.

  “Only to distill enough for the two of us. I swear.” She made an “X” over her heart. “No smuggling. Just enjoyment.”

  He seemed to consider it for a moment.

  “I know nothing about distilling whisky.”

  Arabella grinned. “I ken all we need to ken.”

  “And small, no smuggling?” he confirmed.

  ”I promise.”

  “Very well, Arabella. If you wish to distill whisky, I will not stop you.”

  “Oh, thank ye, Gideon.” She hugged him again. “Ye’ve made me a verra happy woman.”

  “All this time I believed it was prose and flowers to a woman’s heart.” He laughed.

  “Maybe it is for yer fancy English women, but not a Scot.”

  “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m rather grateful to your mad family, particularly your Uncle Aiden.”

  Arabella frowned, not certain why. “For coercin’ ye?”

  “No. For kidnapping Lady Bentley in the first place. Otherwise, we would have never met.” He cradled her cheek in his palm, caressing it with this thumb. “I would have never found my love.” Then he leaned forward and placed his lips against hers.

  Arabella began to melt almost immediately. Everything was right with Gideon. From the first kiss to this moment.

  “Come,” he said after breaking the kiss. “I think it’s time to show you the rest of the manor.”

  “There is only the upstairs. What else is there to see?”

  “Our set of rooms, for one. I made certain it would be furnished before I returned.”

  “The house is rather empty.”

  “I’m sure you’ll have it furnished in no time,” Gideon assured her, then scooped her up in his arms. “As for me, I care only about our bed.”

  Epilogue

  He was ready to go home. Not to Trent Manor, but Hawkshore Park, which Arabella had decided to call where they’d live out their days. She’d discovered a number of hawks in the area and as Gideon loved the shore, she combined their two loves into a name.

  A mixture of bittersweet, melancholy and anticipation mingled within his being as he and his family gathered at the dock. This last month, living at Trent Manor, with all of his family in residence had been much needed. It had been years since all of them were home at once. So long, that Gideon hadn’t been able to recall the last time they’d been under one roof.

  His family embraced Arabella as one of their own, and it had been all that he could hope for. If only the entire visit had been peaceful. Unfortunately, Elaina was still trying to settle in after being gone for so long, and there was tension between her and Tristan so it was time they all left the couple in peace. Perhaps it came from changes that had occurred in the three years she had been away, when they’d all thought she had perished at sea, or perhaps it was Tristan, because he’d also changed. Gideon hoped they found their way back to each other because he’d never seen a love as strong as those two had shared. At least, not until Gideon had met Arabella. He now understood why Tristan had found it difficult to continue when he thought Elaina was gone because Gideon wasn’t certain how he could continue without Arabella. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t even known of her existence a few months back, his soul had recognized hers the moment they met, even if he hadn’t realized it at the time.

  Today, Maxwell, Sophia and Rafe, along with their children, sailed back to Italy. Who knew when Gideon would see them again, though Arabella did suggest that they visit and Harrison had offered to take them. As for Elaina, she was never boarding another ship again, so it would be up to Maxwell and Sophia to come home if they wished to see Tristan.

  “Yer going’ to miss them.” It wasn’t a question from his wife, but a statement. A wife in truth and not just because of what they’d done, but because Tristan had procured a Special License when he had traveled to London. He had wanted no questions asked about Gideon and Arabella’s marriage, and saw to it becoming legal and binding upon his return. As Arabella and he had been married by an ancient custom in front of her family, Gideon saw no reason to invite the MacGregors to witness them being married in the eyes of the church. As long as everyone was satisfied, there was no cause to worry that they’d be parting after a year and a day.

  “Even though we didn’t live as closely as your family, they are still a part of me,” he finally answered her.

  “I can see that. Ye’ve proven that distance does not equal loss, and ye have each other no matter how many miles separate ye.”

  One by one, the family members embraced Sophia, Rafe, their children and then Maxwell. Gideon being the last to hug his twin.

  “You’ve done well,” his brother said.

  “I’m extremely lucky.”

  “I wish you well,” Max finally said. “Come to Italy. Bring your wife. It’s a city that must be experienced.”

  “We will, in time,” Gideon assured him.

  Max then glanced at Arabella. “I hope to find what you have. To feel what you do but for myself.”

  The two of them would always share a connection and emotion, which was why Maxwell was particularly fond of Arabella. “I hope you do as well.”

  They broke away and Gideon watched as his family boarded the ship bound for Italy and swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat.

  “We will see them soon. I promise,” Arabella whispered.

  “In time.” Then he turned to his wife. “Are you ready to return home?”

  “When you are, I will be ready.”

  Gideon had feared that once Arabella was so far from Scotland that she might become anxious, but it had been the opposite. In fact, she’d been quite content.

  “If you wish, we can return to Anagburn first.”

  A soft smile came to her lips. “I’d rather just go home to Hawkshore, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “You’re anxious to see how your purchases fit into the house,” he guessed. Besides visiting family, Arabella had done a good deal of shopping with Sophia, Olivia and Elaina since they had an entire house to furnish.

  “In part,” she answered and then went up on her toes to kiss him. “I’m more anxious to finally settle in and begin my life with you, in our home by the coast you love so well.”

  His heart warmed. “I love you, Arabella.”

  “And I love ye, and plan on lovin’ ye for the rest of my days.”

  Dear Readers,

  * * *

  Thank you for reading KISSING THE LASS, the second book in the Scot to the Heart series.

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  If you’ve not had a chance to read the first book in the Scot to the Heart Series—Courting the Scot, the first chapter follows.

  EXCERPT – COURTING THE SCOT

  (Book #1 of the Scot to the Heart Series)

  © Copyright 2017 – Jane Charles

  All Rights Reserved

  CHAPTER ONE

  Near Bonnybridge, Scotland - March 1, 1815

  Miss Davina MacGregor set her arrow and raised the bow. Her sight narrow
ed onto the bull’s eye as she pulled back on the string. Just as she was about to release, a large arm slipped around her waist. Startled, Davina let go, and the arrow flew high before arcing down and embedding itself in the dirt, just short of the bales of hay she’d stacked and painted for practice.

  She suppressed the delicious shiver at his touch. “Are ye so afraid of losin’ to me that ye have to cheat?” She’d known Ian Grant her entire life and though some may consider his arm around her an impropriety, she knew it was only so she’d miss the target. The MacGregors and Grants had a long family history, and she was just as certain Ian saw her no differently than he did his younger sisters, Fanella and Jesse.

  “I wasna cheatin’, lass. I couldna help myself.”

  Ian’s warm breath against her neck caused her skin to prickle. Davina snorted as she turned, placed a palm against his hard chest and pushed him away. “I’m not one of yer Edinburgh or London ladies who swoon at yer nearness, Ian Grant.” Though she could certainly understand why they did. “Yer charms willna work on me. I’ve kent ye far too long to ken ye’ll try anythin’ to win a match.”

  Even though he did not hold a title, he was still landed, wealthy and handsome, and many ladies would not mind making Ian Grant their husband. Of course, there was the potential title that might hold the interest of many. If his older brother died without issue, as their uncle had, there was a possibility Ian would become the next Marquess of Brachton. Not that any of that mattered to Davina. She much preferred it when the marquessate had been held distantly, and in England, with the Scottish Grants being no different than her family.

  “Ye wound me, Davina.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I’m not tryin’ to charm ye, lass.” His green eyes twinkled as he grinned. “But is it workin’?”

  She laughed and turned away from him, set another arrow and took aim at the target. “Ye stay away this time. The last one doesna count.” Oh, if only he truly were trying to charm her, but she was no more than just another sister to Ian.

  Davina pulled back the string then let the arrow fly. It struck dead center and she turned, a wide grin on her face for she had finally beaten Ian Grant for the very first time.

  Except, Ian wasn’t looking at the target, but right at her. He wasn’t angry that she’d beat him. Instead, he studied her, an odd look of approval in his green eyes.

  “What?”

  “Do my charms really not work on ye?” he asked quietly, as if he really wished they did.

  Ian couldn’t be trying to flirt with her, could he?

  The very idea was frightening and thrilling, but Davina knew that if she answered honestly, she’d be setting herself up to be teased. Ian could never know she’d been half in love with him for the past year. If she answered honestly and he laughed at her, not only would she be crushed, but humiliated as well. “If yer missin’ the attention of a female, why don’t ye go off to London? It’s spring, the city will be fillin’ with ladies ready to hang on yer every word and prayin’ that ye’ll notice them.”

  “I’m not leavin’ this spring.” He still didn’t break eye contact. Instead he studied Davina, as if trying to gauge her reaction.

  Heat rose to her cheeks, and she quickly grabbed another arrow. “I thought ye were to accompany yer mother and sisters.” Ever since his sister, Mary, had gone off to London, married Lieutenant Soares, and followed the drum, their mother wouldn’t let another daughter have a Season without her. It wasn’t that they objected to the Lieutenant. They didn’t like that they hadn’t seen Mary in over two years.

  Davina set the arrow, pulled back on the string and let the arrow fly. It struck just to the side of the center mark.

  “They doona need me to escort them about,” Ian scoffed. “Besides, Lachlan is better suited for that position than me. He and Maddie are more capable of makin’ all the proper introductions.”

  Lachlan had married Madeline Trent little over a year ago. She was a lady, though Davina knew nothing of her family. Hopefully Maddie would have better luck with Ian’s sisters than Lachlan had, and there would be no more matches with Lieutenants leaving for the Continent.

  “Well, I suppose someone needs to remain behind to see to the crops and business.” Whisky business. Illegal whisky. Ian did have the full weight of the family business upon his shoulders. These days, Lachlan lived in England most of the time, and it was Ian who oversaw each and every detail from the planting of the first barley seed, to bundling up bottles and small barrels to sneak into England, much like her own family. For generations, the Grants and MacGregors had competed as to who produced the best whisky, while they worked together to avoid the excisemen. Except, the MacGregors hadn’t shipped anything in nearly a year. Uncle Aiden hadn’t been happy with the quality of whisky and decided to let the barrels age another year while trying to improve the taste of the batches they were brewing.

  “That is one of the reasons,” he answered slowly.

  Only one of them? What other reasons kept Ian here? It was a question Davina was afraid to ask. Instead, she grabbed another arrow to cover her nervousness.

  Why was he different today? This wasn’t the same Ian who teased and often irritated her.

  “Ye dinna ask the other reasons.”

  “I’m sure ‘tis none of my business.” Davina pulled back on the string and hoped he could not tell that her hands now shook.

  “I’d be goin’ to London if ye were,” he said just as she let go. She watched the arrow fly toward the mark, sail over the hay and disappear into the woods. It wasn’t so much the words he spoke that shook her composure but the lower timbre of his voice that hinted at a promise.

  “Did ye hear what I said?” Ian had moved so close that his heat penetrated the back of her dress.

  As much as she wanted to read more into his words, she was too afraid to ask for fear the answer wasn’t one she’d dreamed of. “Ye ken Uncle Aiden doesna have time to take us off for a holiday in London.” She shrugged and strode away from Ian to gather her arrows. “Besides, we doona belong in London. Not like yer family.”

  “I said that I’d be in London if ye were.” Ian gently grabbed her arm to stop her from going any further and turned Davina toward him.

  Davina blinked up at him. “I heard ye,” she answered, a little more breathlessly than she’d like.

  His hand came up to cradle her cheek and Davina sucked in a breath. “Doesna that mean anythin’ to ye, lass?” His intense green eyes studied her.

  “What does it mean to ye?” she countered as her pulse thundered through her veins.

  “I wish to be here, with ye.” With that he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. Davina dropped her bow and grabbed his arm to keep from falling as her knees suddenly grew weak.

  Ian Grant was kissing her!

  He’d thought he’d have to chase Davina MacGregor all over the field while she collected her arrows before he could claim a kiss. Not that he was certain he’d gain one. She could just as easily have slapped him for his advances instead of returning it as she was doing now. It had been a risk, that he well knew, but he could no longer keep the desire to have her in his arms buried any longer. A risk he was glad he’d taken.

  Pulling her close, his arms around her back, he traced the seam of her lip. When she parted, he swept in.

  This first kiss was meant to be a sweet one. In time, he would build from there, but he should have known better. He’d waited weeks and wasn’t ready to let her go with a promise to call again in a few days.

  Davina tilted her head and he tangled his tongue with hers. At first she was tentative, then fully engaged as her hands came up and her fingers threaded through his hair.

  He should have known that kissing Davina wouldn’t be like any other woman. This was not the first kiss he had stolen from an innocent, not that those hadn’t been given willingly, but they lacked even the barest hint of passion and were far too decorous for his tastes. Not Davina. Once her lips parted and she learned her way,
she was giving as well as she was taking. He’d always known it would be this way with her. Davina, a brave, beautiful and bold lass would not demur quietly or turn five shades of crimson after the mere brushing of lips. No, she’d conquer and demand more if it was something she liked, and Davina appeared to be liking this very much. As much as he did.

  Her breasts burned against his chest, and he longed to feel the weight of them in his hands, to lift her skirts and have her legs about his waist as he thrust deep inside and took her to heights of passion. It was a shame they were in an open field where anyone could come upon them. He should have waited until she’d gone into the woods for that last arrow before kissing her. There wouldn’t have been a chance of them being seen, and he could press forward in his suit.

  He pulled back. What the bloody hell was he thinking?

  And then, with a groan, he rested his forehead against hers. Their labored breaths mingled and Ian tried to come to terms with his thoughts and actions. Aye, he desired Davina, but that was no reason to treat her like some dockside whore. She was to be his. Now he knew that better than ever, and he would show her all the care and respect one did a future wife. Tossing her skirts up in the woods at the first chance he was given was not the proper way to court her.

  Davina pulled back, curiosity in her dark eyes. “Why did ye do that?”

  Ian simply stared at her. “Because I’ve been wantin’ to.”

  She pushed him away and anchored her hands on her hips. “But why?”

  “It’s not obvious?”

  She lifted one dark eyebrow and pursed her lips. “Not to me.”

  “I’ve a likin’ for ye, Davina.” Bloody hell, he was blushing. “I have for some time now, and I thought perhaps ye might have a likin’ for me.”

  Slowly, she smiled. “I just might at that, Ian Grant.”

  Damn she was beautiful when she smiled. He reached out for her.