A Lass to Love: Brides of Scotland

by Andresen, Tammy

  Fortunately, Colin delivered the breakfast. “Good morning,” he said as he entered the room. “How did everyone sleep?”

  “Well enough,” Edna replied. “I’ll be better after my tea.”

  She and Colin shared an easy smile as Fiona rose to serve her aunt. “How long until we reach London?”

  “Two more days,” Colin answered, helping himself to a cup of tea as well. “And it looks like we’re in for nasty weather today.”

  Fiona grimaced, as she sat down at the table. “Is there something ye might suggest to pass the time?”

  He nodded, grabbing a piece of toast from the tray. “I thought we’d invite Tom here fer dinner tonight.”

  “Wonderful,” she said.

  At the same moment, Aunt Edna harrumphed. “No.”

  “No?” Fiona asked, turning to her aunt. “Why not? He’s Colin’s guest.”

  “He likes ye too much and ye need to focus on yer future husband.” Edna’s hand slapped down on the table. “I ken ye haven’t decided about Exmouth but he’s been good to us in his own way. Provided me and ye a home when we really needed one.”

  Colin let out a short breath. “I can provide ye a home, Aunt Edna. He gave ye a tiny cottage that was unused. It’s practically nothing.”

  Edna pointed a finger at him. “I’m a woman of Glasgow. I don’t want to move to yer fancy Greenoch.”

  Colin tossed up his hands. “Then we’ll purchase a cottage in Glasgow. We’ll be able to do it with my funds. There’s no reason for Fiona to marry a man who can’t even bother to meet her in person for the price of a small, rundown cottage. Surely, her life is worth more than that.”

  Aunt Edna huffed. “That’s ridiculous. She’ll be a countess with far more security than we’ve had for the past several years.”

  Fiona’s mouth tightened as she clenched her hands under the table. “Aunt Edna, I appreciate what ye’re saying, but how much security can a woman have when her husband won’t even share the same country as her?” She shook her head.

  Edna leaned forward, gripping the table. “He just hasn’t met ye, dear. When he does, he’ll surely fall madly in love. Look at ye. So beautiful and unfailingly kind. How could he not?”

  Fiona bit her lip. “After all this time, I’m not even sure I want his affection. I—”

  Edna’s face turned ashen. “Please just meet him first before ye decide. Give an old woman that much.”

  Fiona looked down at her lap. She was tired of giving. Not to Edna but to Lord Exmouth. She’d given up all her fun, all her hopes and dreams, all her affection. And what had she gotten in return? A vague promise to one day have a future.

  Callum’s aunt, the current countess, had held Fiona to the union for the last several years and with her gone, Edna had taken up the mantle. She loved her aunt but last night’s kiss had made one fact abundantly clear: she didn’t want to marry Lord Exmouth, she was ready to find her own path. Tom’s face rose in her thoughts but she pushed his image aside. Even if he wasn’t her future, that didn’t change what she wanted to do. “I’ll meet him, Auntie. We’ve traveled all this way, but ye should prepare yerself for a move afterward. I don’t think we’ll be staying on his property.”

  Edna let out a groan, but Colin smiled. “Good for ye,” he said.

  “Don’t encourage her,” Edna snapped. “That rake, Mayweather, isn’t marriage material, Fiona. Don’t ruin yer future for him.”

  Fiona sat straighter. “This isn’t about him, it’s about me.” She reached for her aunt’s weathered hand, holding her cool fingers in her own. “I can’t be with a man who doesn’t like or respect me. It will never work.”

  And that was the truth, leaving Fiona’s future a blank canvas. But honestly, she was excited to see what she painted on that empty canvas. The choice was finally hers.

  * * *

  Tom knocked on the cabin door, then pulled his collar tighter about his neck to keep the rain off his bare skin. The weather had only grown worse as the day progressed. Colin opened the door, giving his friend a wide smile. But rather than let Tom in from the rain, the captain leaned out. “Watch out fer Edna, she’s in a mood tonight.”

  Mood? He didn’t have a chance to ask more as Colin swung the door out and stepped back for Tom to enter.

  He gazed about the room, finding Fiona on the far side next to the table that was already covered in dishes of food. His body hummed in awareness. He’d thought of little else but her throughout the day and he drank in the sight of her now as if he’d been starving.

  “Ye must be hungry, Mr. Mayweather,” Edna said from next to Fiona.

  He startled, wondering if she’d read his mind. “I am rather peckish,” he answered. Inwardly he added, but not for the food.

  “I can tell the way yer staring at the buffet.” Edna stepped in front of her niece, her cane thumping on the wooden floor.

  The sound reminded him of the hard rap she’d given his shin. He’d have to make sure to cut Edna a wide path this evening. He didn’t need any more bruises.

  “Well, if that’s the case then we should eat.” Colin came to stand next to him. “It’s a good night to spend together, with food and a bit of wine.” And then he crossed to the buffet and opened the door, revealing several bottles of wine that were tucked in the locked cabinet.

  Fiona unbolted the other side and pulled out four glasses. It always amazed him, the comforts that could be stored on a ship. The inside of the cabinet was not unlike a wooden crate, keeping the glasses safe despite the pitching ship.

  Soon they were seated at the table, Fiona to his right and Colin to his left. Edna sat across from him, giving him a hard stare as they raised their glasses in a toast. He gave her a bland smile in return, his shins didn’t stand a chance.

  Which was why he nearly jumped out of his skin when something brushed his knee under the table. It wasn’t the hard hit of cane, but a delicate touch that whispered across the tight knit cloth of his breeches. He glanced to his left and Fiona gave him the tiniest wink. He had to blink, wondering if he’d imagined the gesture.

  But then light fingers settled on his thigh. Warmth sifted through the material. Every muscle in his body tensed in response as he tried to keep his facial features in a neutral position. His gaze fixed on a spot along the wall as her fingers slid slowly higher on his leg.

  Not that he didn’t appreciate the touch. He did. But Tom had to wonder what Fiona was thinking. This was a bold move for a woman who’d only had her first kiss yesterday. Still, he craved her touch even more than he had the day before.

  “Tell me, Tom,” Colin started speaking from his right. “How did yer trip to Scotland go? Did ye find the wool ye needed?”

  Tom took a healthy swallow of his wine. Making polite conversation with Fiona’s hand skimming up his thigh required a bit of fortification. “I did, thank you. The Prince Regent should be most pleased with the selection.”

  Edna cocked her head to the side. “Did ye say the Prince Regent?”

  He nodded but it was Colin who answered. “Dressmakers and patrons alike agree that Tom makes the finest wool for garments. Even with the popularity of lighter fabrics, he has a booming business, Auntie.”

  Edna sniffed, her cane thumping the floor. “What exactly are ye trying to convince me of?”

  Tom leaned forward, placing his hand over Fiona’s on his thigh. Now was not the time to be distracted by attraction. Right now, he needed to convey his affection and commitment. “I am only trying to make certain that you don’t hit me with that wooden club you carry around.” He gave her what he hoped was his best smile.

  She narrowed her gaze, titling her chin down. “I’ll not hit ye if ye’re behaving yerself with my niece.”

  He leaned forward, giving Fiona’s fingers a squeeze. “I have nothing but the most honest intentions toward your niece.”

  Edna’s cane thumped the floor and he stiffened the smallest bit. “Ye should have no intentions toward my niece.”

  �
�Auntie,” Fiona’s melodious voice washed over the conversation. She gave his thigh a squeeze. “I’m sure we’ll all feel better after we’ve eaten.”

  Edna pressed back into her chair. “I’ll feel better when we’ve reached London and delivered ye to yer fiancé.”

  Tom drew in a sharp breath. He didn’t see that happening. Not if he had anything to say on the matter.

  Chapter Ten

  Fiona flushed with heat as she gripped Tom’s thigh. She’d never in her entire life done anything so bold. She loved it.

  She was tired of being a mouse. Of letting life happen to her instead of being an active participant in her own destiny. And last night Tom had proved that he would allow her to experiment without pushing beyond her limits of comfort.

  She’d touched his leg, not to win a new suitor, or to push away the old one. Fiona just wanted to enjoy the feel of his muscles under her hands. She didn’t even wish to think about the future. For once she wanted to enjoy the here and now.

  Colin uncovered the dishes and she’d been forced to use both her hands for the meal. But as she cut the delicate piece of lamb, she amended that the night would not be over after they finished eating their dinner. There would be no moonlit walk rendezvous on the deck but there could still be a midnight meeting.

  Her cheeks heated again and she dipped her head as Colin discussed the merits of farming. While his shipping business that he’d inherited from his father was thriving, she knew he wished for a life on land. Momentarily putting her own feelings aside, she decided to help him in any way she could. Colin would most certainly have to be one of her future projects.

  But her current recipient of her aid was…herself. Today, right now, she was going to experience a bit of what she’d missed these past three years while engaged to a man who didn’t want her.

  Fiona was giddy with the thought and gripped her fork tighter to keep from jumping about, or grinning foolishly, or grabbing Tom’s thigh again. Anticipation made her foot tap under the table.

  Edna emptied her wine glass and Fiona picked up the bottle, refilling her aunt’s drink. The action was devious. In her old age, two glasses of wine would have her aunt sound asleep and snoring within the hour. Fiona poured a bit more, topping the glass off with a healthy pour.

  “Thank ye, my dear.” Her aunt gave a small hiccup as she lifted the drink. “Most kind of ye.”

  Colin, however, shot her a warning glare from across the table. Would it be terribly suspicious if she refilled his wine too? Setting the bottle down, she widened her eyes in an angelic pose. “It’s a party. We should all have fun.”

  “It is,” her aunt agreed as she brought the glass to her lips. The meal continued on punctuated by light conversation and driving rain beating against the boat.

  But Fiona didn’t mind. It added to the air of intimacy as they sat together. After taking their last bites, they rose from the table and returned to the buffet. Colin whispered in her ear. “We’ll have to wrap up early thanks to yer heavy hand with Aunt Edna’s wine.”

  She shrugged, not willing to confess she’d given Edna extra wine for the sole purpose of putting the woman to sleep. “She’s been far kinder to Tom since she finished that first glass.”

  Colin’s brow rose. “That is very true.”

  Edna sat in the only other chair available in the room and leaned her head back against the wall. Fiona stood next to Tom, wishing there was a way to set up a meeting with him for later in the night. But Colin never moved out of earshot and soon Edna’s soft snores punctuated their conversation.

  “We should get Edna to bed.” Colin said, frowning over at their aunt.

  “I agree,” Fiona replied with a bit too much breathy excitement. She stopped and took a deep breath.

  Colin picked up her aunt and carried her across the room to the alcove that held the bed. Fiona spun about to Tom. “I’ll meet ye in the storeroom tonight,” she whispered quickly.

  He gave a jerk of his head. “No.”

  That single word jolted through her. No?

  “I’ll explain tomorrow.” He touched her elbow and then headed for the door.

  Colin, having deposited their aunt in her bed, turned back to them. “Ye’re leaving?”

  “I’d better,” Tom answered. “I’ll see you both in the morning.” And then he was gone.

  Fiona thought back to Tom’s words earlier when he’d assured her aunt that his intentions were honorable. She nearly harrumphed. Why did he have to go and grow a code of ethics now?

  Colin cleared his throat. “Whatever yer planning, ye can just stop.”

  “What?” she asked, turning to Colin.

  He crossed the room again. “I spoke with Tom today. They’ll be no more late-night meetings.”

  Her breath caught in her chest. “Meetings?”

  “And just so ye ken, Tom plans to court ye.”

  Her entire body pulsed with surprise. “Court me? But he doesn’t intend to marry. He—”

  “He didn’t. I think he’s changed his mind.” Colin relaxed, a grin spreading across his face. “And just so ye ken, that was his idea not mine. I ken ye don’t want another unwilling groom.” Colin reached out and touched her arm. “Ye can choose to accept his courtship or not. I suppose I wouldn’t blame ye if ye’d been scared off marriage. I ken I have.”

  Fiona winced. Colin had been engaged a few years prior and likely still hurt from the experience. “I’m not. But I did miss all the fun other girls my age got to have.”

  Colin nodded. “I understand that. But ye need to understand that Edna and I both have to suffer the consequences of whatever ye choose to do. Choose wisely.”

  Her stomach dropped. Colin was right. Despite her need to have fun, she had to keep her family’s best interests in mind. “What do ye think I should do then? Marry Callum?”

  “Of course not. That complete pile of bullocks doesn’t deserve ye. But do think about Tom. He’s a good man even if Edna doesn’t like him.”

  Fiona cocked her head to the side. “Are ye meddling, Colin MacFarland?”

  He dropped his chin to hide his grin. “Maybe I am.”

  She leaned in then and gave her cousin a hug. “I’m glad we talked and I think I ken what to do.”

  * * *

  Tom shrugged off his wet coat and vest, slicking back his hair, the rain having soaked it through.

  His body vibrated with untapped energy. Fiona had touched his leg, proposed another clandestine meeting, and given him doe eyes across the table all night. Refusing her had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever had to do.

  Then again, he meant to keep his word to Colin and treat Fiona with the respect she deserved. The respect given to a woman who he wished to marry.

  He could barely believe he’d thought the words and he repeated them as he shrugged out of his shirt. But Fiona would never hurt him the way others had done, rather, she’d put him back together. He was certain of that.

  He straightened as a soft tapping noise broke the steady beat of rain. Then again. Crossing the door, he undid the latch, ready to peek out into the hall. He cracked open the door to see a wet Fiona pressed to the opening. “Can I come in?” she whispered. Rain dripped from her hair and wetted her face and lips.

  Bloody hell, he should say no. But with a quick jerk, he opened the door and pulled her inside, then quickly closed it again. He reached over to the bed, grabbed a blanket, and wrapped it about her. “You shouldn’t have come, sweetheart. If Colin catches us…”

  “He’ll what?” she asked. “Force us to marry?”

  He paused, pulling the blanket down over her hair to dry the strands. “I know how I feel about the idea, how do you?”

  Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. “I don’t ken how ye feel.” She stepped a little closer. “Would ye tell me?”

  “How do you feel?” he asked, grasping the blanket and pulling her closer.

  She drifted closer until she nearly touched him. “I’m here aren’t I?�
�� she said softly.

  He chuckled even as he tipped his chin closer. “Ye could be looking for more experience to help woo Exmouth.”

  She pressed closer, tipping her chin up to look at him. “I was never going to woo Exmouth. I just wanted an excuse to kiss ye.”

  A deep sound of satisfaction bubbled up from his throat. “And when you go to London?”

  “I’ll tell him I can’t marry him,” she said, even as he dipped his mouth to capture hers in a soft kiss.

  She eagerly pressed her mouth to his. “Then I will tell you I have every intention of making you my wife,” he said.

  Her gasp filled his mouth in the most satisfying way, her heather smell wrapping about his senses. He knew why he loved that aroma…she smelled like home.

  Chapter Eleven

  Fiona never wished to be anywhere but in this man’s arms. His torso was bare and she’d seen the full view of what she’d dreamt of—all the rippling muscles of his chest.

  He kissed her again and as he parted her lips and brushed his tongue to hers, she moaned, an ache pulsing between her legs.

  Slipping her hand down his neck, she trailed her fingers over his muscles, tracing the hard lines in his chest and abdomen. The kiss intensified, drew deeper, each stroke longer until all she could think or feel was him.

  Her wet jacket hit the floor with a resounding thud and she smiled, realizing she’d barely noticed him removing the heavy garment. And when he pulled her close again, her torso came into contact with his, the warmth of his skin heating hers through her gown.

  She snaked her hands about his waist, wanting even more of his heat and strength. He slid his fingers into her hair, cradling the base of her skull with his palm and tilting her head so that he could kiss her even deeper.

  Dear lord, never in her wildest dreams had she imagined such passion. She was drunk on his kisses, the heady flavor of him intoxicating her to dizzying heights. He tasted of wine and wood and some other uniquely male flavor. Strong and delicious.