A Borrowed Scot (22 page)

“You’re wet. Show me how wet you are. Open your legs wider.”

An involuntary growl escaped him as she did.

Veronica startled him by pressing her hand against his trousers, feeling his erection, clasping it possessively.

“You’re as hungry as I am,” he murmured, kissing the edge of her jaw. A delicate kiss that didn’t reveal his raging need.

“Montgomery,” she whispered. “Anyone might come in.”

“Up on the worktable,” he said.

“What about splinters?”

“Kneel.”

Her eyebrows rose, but she did as he asked.

In moments, she was kneeling on his worktable, fully dressed, the skirt hiding her from his view. His cock was still trembling in its fabric prison and, when he released it, pointed at her as if seeking its home.

Slowly, he raised her skirts. There she was, hidden in the cave of cloth, her dampness evident to him even then. He ran one finger from her bottom through her pink and swollen folds to slide inside her.

Her back arched, then she lowered her head between her shoulders, a small moan escaping her.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “I want to put my mouth on you.”

Her head turned, her face aflame. Desire and hunger flared in her eyes.

“Spread your legs wider,” he ordered, smiling when she did.

“Now, move closer.”

She backed toward him. The perfect angle, the perfect height. He ripped her pantaloons, bent his head, and gently bit one of the beautiful globes of her bottom.

Her breathing was raspy, her hair tumbling over her red cheeks.

“I’m going to come in you, now.”

Her back dipped; she supported herself on her forearms.

Then, before he spilled his seed from the sheer sight of her, he entered her in one smooth movement, closing his eyes as she sighed his name, her nails scraping the wood of the worktable.

“Now, if anyone comes in, they won’t know.”

She shook her head, not allowing him that sophistry. Anyone could tell, from her face, exactly what he was doing to her.

He pulled her skirts down over both of them, gripping her clothed hips with both hands, jerking her back onto him. Wondering, as he did so, how much of this he could take.

She was trembling, her body a furnace gripping him possessively. He was in deeper than he’d ever been. A dozen thrusts, and she was rocking back against him, milking him of his seed, moaning with each movement. A dozen more, and she cried out. He joined her seconds later, feeling himself explode into her.

For long moments, neither said a word. He didn’t move. No doubt he had a stupid smile on his face. Beneath the satisfaction was another emotion, one that troubled him.

He couldn’t keep his damn hands off his wife.

Not only that, but he was beginning to want her in his bed. To roll over and be able to touch her, to feel her warmth. To smell roses when he dreamed, to know the scent meant Veronica was near.

She rose a little, looking away, then back at him, her expression a little difficult to decipher. She was satiated; he knew that much from the pulse beats still pounding against his deflated cock. She was a little embarrassed; not all the flush on her face was due to arousal. Yet she was also a little proud if he wasn’t mistaken, as if she’d done something for which she deserved acclaim.

She’d fucked him stupid, and he, for one, was damn glad of it despite the warning bells clanging in his brain.

He moved back.

What the hell did he say now? Stay with me? Or help me, I don’t know what the hell is happening?

He helped her from the workbench, occupied himself with putting himself to order, then helping her dress, his trembling fingers fastening each button much more slowly than he’d unbuttoned her.

Lust had made him gallop for the end of the race. Caution slowed him now. Did he apologize for his haste? Attempt to explain he couldn’t control himself around her? He was damned if he knew how to handle it.

“Go and be a good hostess for us, Veronica. I’ll make it back for dinner,” he said, bending his head to kiss her. He held her for a few more minutes, longer than was wise because she cuddled against him. Even her soft sigh was enough to make him want her again.

He walked with her to the door and kissed her again after opening it.

He hadn’t wanted to be married and had made little secret of that fact. He hadn’t wanted to rescue anyone, but he’d been compelled to rescue Veronica from the Society of the Mercaii. For that, he’d been rewarded with a marriage to the most confusing, fascinating, desirable woman he’d ever known.

She’d never spoken of her parents, and yesterday, he’d discovered that she had her own deep well of grief. Today, she’d been a cheerful helpmate, even charming Tom. She’d worked tirelessly for hours, then effortlessly been a siren he couldn’t ignore.

As he leaned against the brick doorway and watched Veronica walk back to Doncaster Hall, he suspected he wasn’t the same man he’d been before coming to Scotland.

Why was he suddenly so damn happy?

A
s she crossed the arched bridge, Veronica pressed her hands against her skirts, feeling a flush when she remembered Montgomery had done the same. She could almost feel him still inside her, stretching her, claiming her, a memory that brought another rush of heat. He touched her, and she melted. He looked at her in a certain way, and her body grew moist. She heard his voice, and she recalled all the deliciously decadent things they did together.

Passion
was a word she’d never used before her marriage.
Pleasure
was a word limited to innocuous pursuits and inane occupations. She felt pleasure when she finished a difficult cross-stitch. She wiggled her toes in pleasure when her shoes didn’t hurt.

Montgomery had changed those words. He’d changed
her.

Right at the moment, she was feeling so wonderful she didn’t want to see her relatives. Yet it was her duty to ensure that their needs were met, so she continued to her room, needing to wash and change before the confrontation. Her aunt and cousins would find fault with the state of her dress, and she was determined to give them no further reason to criticize her.

During the noon meal, she’d find some way to ascertain exactly how long her relatives intended to remain. She’d also take time to speak with Mrs. Brody and insist no changes be made to Doncaster Hall because of her aunt’s dictates.

Hopefully, the housekeeper was still speaking to her.

Elspeth was in her chamber, arranging her new dresses in the armoire. Her expression was mutinous, however, and even before she spoke, Veronica knew Elspeth’s mood had something to do with her cousins.

“There you are, Your Ladyship,” Elspeth said, forcing a pained smile to her face.

“What is it, Elspeth?”

“I am your lady’s maid, am I not, Your Ladyship?”

She nodded.

“I am to care for your belongings, bring cut flowers into the room, and straighten up if necessary. Although, I must say, Your Ladyship, you don’t leave your things lying about.”

Elspeth twisted her hands together, evidently made some sort of decision, and began to speak rapidly.

“It was a great advancement for me, Your Ladyship, and I’m very proud to serve you. Millicent is still angry about it and gives me cold looks. But I must know when you send someone to order me about. Otherwise, I don’t know if they have your best wishes at heart. How am I to know you’ve directed them to do something, and if I argue with someone, Your Ladyship, you’ll become angry at me, and I’m not wanting to lose my position.”

Veronica moved to the chair beside the window, composed herself, and gestured to the bed.

“Come and sit here, Elspeth, and tell me what happened. Slowly, please.”

Elspeth sat on the edge of the bed, dangling her feet, watching them for a moment before she spoke.

“About an hour ago, Your Ladyship, I was bringing your newly laundered dresses back. That stain on the front of the blue stripe came out, you’ll be happy to know.”

She nodded, trying to be patient. “Someone was in my room?”

“Yes, Your Ladyship. One of your cousins, I believe. She was going through your armoire. She said she was looking for something you sent her for, that I was to leave the room immediately.”

“I take it you disagreed,” she said, feeling warmth for Elspeth’s loyalty.

Elspeth nodded. “I refused to leave, Your Ladyship. She finally did, saying she’d see me dismissed before nightfall.”

She was shocked to see tears in Elspeth’s eyes.

“I didn’t send anyone for anything, Elspeth,” she said, standing. “I don’t know what my cousin was doing here, but it wasn’t at my behest.” Although she already knew, she asked the question anyway. “Who was it?”

“I believe it was Miss Amanda.”

She placed her hand on Elspeth’s shoulder. “Thank you, Elspeth. You did exactly what you should have done. There’ll be no repercussions.”

“I’m not dismissed, then?”

“Indeed, no,” she said. “In fact, I shall visit with Mrs. Brody to see if you and Robbie could get an extra half day for your loyalty.”

“Your Ladyship, I don’t know what to say.” Tears clung to her lashes, but Elspeth’s smile reminded her of times when the sun came out in the middle of a storm.

Veronica opened the drawer at the bottom of one of her armoires and checked the lockbox. All her father’s money was still there. That was not the only valuable item in the suite, however. She walked to her bureau, pulled out the bottom drawer, and stared at the empty space.

The Tulloch Sgàthán was gone.

Chapter 23

M
ontgomery looked up as Edmund entered the distillery. He didn’t stop what he was doing, intent on putting away his work so he could make himself presentable and join Veronica and her family.

Edmund, no doubt, had another dozen or so papers for him to sign or decisions to make, none of which interested him in the least.

“Your Lordship,” his solicitor said, coming to stand in front of the worktable.

He inserted the tool into the leather sleeve before placing both hands flat on the wooden surface of the table.

“What is it now, Edmund? Give the servants a raise, order more provisions for Cook, hire a dozen more maids. Better yet, see my wife about the domestic duties.”

“You would give Her Ladyship authority, sir?”

Edmund looked so stunned Montgomery almost smiled.

“Indeed I would. My sister-in-law managed my home in Virginia quite ably. Without my being involved, I might add.”

Edmund nodded as if the thought had some merit, but he still didn’t move.

“You’re not here for a domestic concern, is that it? What is it? Something gone wrong with the looms in France, the sheep, the mines?”

“You have many interests, Your Lordship,” Edmund said stiffly.

He glanced at the man. “I realize that, Edmund, and I’m suitably grateful. I’m just not interested in their day-to-day operation.”

“Sir, there are people who depend upon your conscientiousness. Whose livelihood is contingent upon your interest.”

He stared straight ahead, to the brightness of the afternoon beckoning beyond the door. He wanted out before Edmund began to lecture him on duty again. He’d been a Colonel with responsibility for five hundred forty-two men, leading them into battle for more than a year. He’d buried his family, been steward of their land, borne the burdens of every damn one of his decisions in the last five years, and still, it wasn’t enough.

Now, the Fairfax wealth was a cannonball he was supposed to carry around and discount its weight.

“Say what you have to say, Edmund.”
Then get the hell away from me.

“I was interviewed, sir, and I feel it incumbent upon me to tell you.”

“Interviewed?” He lifted an eyebrow, waited.

“The Earl of Conley, sir. He was very intent upon knowing the exact amount of your fortune.”

“Was he?”

“I believe I erred, sir, in telling him of your largesse in regards to Her Ladyship. He was quite interested in the details.”

He didn’t know who angered him more at the moment, Edmund, or the Earl of Conley.

“When was this?” Montgomery asked, wiping his hands on a cloth.

“Less than an hour ago, sir. I came directly from our meeting.” Edmund hesitated, then evidently summoned his courage to ask. “What shall I do, Your Lordship?”

“Nothing,” Montgomery said. “I’ll handle it.”

He strode toward the door, turned, and faced his solicitor. “For your information, Edmund, I don’t want my business discussed with anyone. At any time, with anyone.”

Edmund stared down at the dirt floor. “I’ve truly erred, Your Lordship. I shall never do so again.”

“You live in Inverness?”

Edmund nodded.

“I think it’s time you went home, Edmund.”

The solicitor looked stunned. “Sir? Who will look out for your interests?”

The cannonball was growing heavier and heavier. He wanted to throw it at Edmund Kerr.

Edmund took a few steps toward him. “Lord Fairfax, I’m sorry. You have my profound apologies. The moment I realized my error, I came to you.”

“So you did,” he said. “And for that, I’m not dismissing you, Edmund. Yet I think it’s time for you to visit your home. At least for a little while. Don’t you agree?”

His look dared Edmund to offer an objection. “Yes, Your Lordship. Perhaps it is time.”

Anger propelled him across the bridge, over the path, and toward Doncaster Hall. He made it to his room to wash and change before going in search of the Earl of Conley, or to pummel the man, whichever he deemed appropriate.

E
lspeth helped her change her dress and fix her hair. Veronica washed her hands, then attempted to cool her face with a cold compress, but it was no use. Her cheeks were bright red, a sure and certain sign her temper was at a boiling point.

By the time she marched into the formal dining room, their numbers being too great to be accommodated in the smaller family dining room, she was shaking with fury.

“It’s common to be late,” Aunt Lilly said, reaching for one of Cook’s scones. “I thought you better schooled in manners.”

Veronica halted in the doorway, took a deep breath, and forced herself to calm a little.

The dining room walls were covered in pale yellow silk, the deep cornices leading the eye to a frieze of fruit and vegetables carved on the ceiling. Three chandeliers hung over a mahogany table large enough to accommodate twenty people.

Uncle Bertrand sat at the head of the table, Aunt Lilly at the end, with her cousins making themselves at home wherever they chose. Evidently, her place was to be somewhere in the middle, relegated to poor relation status even here, in her own home.

For the moment, she ignored both her aunt and uncle, and walked to the side opposite where Amanda sat. Her cousin smiled at her across the expanse of the table. Her expression was sweet and charming if one didn’t notice the gleam in her eyes.

“Where is it?”

“Where is what, Veronica?” Aunt Lilly said. “Do sit down, girl.”

“Where is the mirror?” she said, never moving her gaze from Amanda’s face. “You’ll not steal from me in my own home.”

“Veronica!” Aunt Lilly looked aghast. “What are you talking about?”

“You stole the mirror. Where is it?”

Amanda patted the corner of her lips with her napkin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I gave you money of my own free will in London. I’ll not give you the mirror.”

Amanda turned to face her mother. “I truly do not know, Mother, what she is talking about. Please make her stop saying such vicious things about me.”

“Veronica,” Uncle Bertrand said, “you cannot simply accuse someone without proof.”

“My maid is proof,” she said. “She saw you in my room, Amanda.”

Aunt Lilly stood, threw down her napkin, and walked to stand behind her daughter. “Amanda is no thief.”

“I merely wished to see your suite,” Amanda said. “You disappeared this morning, and we’ve not seen you since.”

“Another rudeness, Veronica,” her aunt said.

“I doubt, countess,” Montgomery said from behind her, “that rudeness should be the topic of this conversation.”

Veronica glanced at him to find him staring at her uncle. “You and I need to talk. Now.”

Montgomery didn’t look like the man she’d left an hour earlier. His voice was decidedly icy, his expression so filled with rage she would have flinched had it been directed at her.

“I trust you will discipline your wife, Montgomery,” Aunt Lilly said, going back to her chair, her attention on her meal once more. “She was excessively rude to Amanda.”

He glanced at Veronica.

“She’s stolen the mirror. She came into my room and stole the Tulloch Sgàthán.”

He studied Amanda for a moment, then allowed his gaze to encompass the entire table. To their credit, the other four cousins didn’t meet his eyes, looking as if they wished to be anywhere but there. The only people who appeared supremely unaware of Montgomery’s rage were Amanda, Uncle Bertrand, and Aunt Lilly.

Montgomery moved to stand slightly behind her and to the left. His right hand reached out, gripped her waist, and pulled her gently toward him, a picture of a couple united.

Aunt Lilly frowned at both of them. “She was extremely discourteous to Amanda, Montgomery. It is only civil for her to apologize.”

“It’s you who owe Veronica an apology,” Montgomery said, before she could speak. “You’re occupying her chair.” He turned toward the Earl of Conley. “Nor did I give you leave to take my place at the head of the table, sir. Or to question my finances or those of my wife.”

Montgomery nodded toward one of the maids. “Ask Mrs. Brody to step in,” he said, before turning to Amanda. “Now’s the time to tell the truth. Did you take the mirror?”

Amanda’s face almost matched her father’s in florid color. The look she gave Veronica was so filled with hatred it was almost a living thing.

Mrs. Brody arrived less than three minutes later, but the intervening time was spent in an uncomfortable silence, Montgomery’s glance almost daring anyone to speak. Thankfully, no one challenged him.

“Where have you placed our guests, Mrs. Brody?” He turned his head to look at Amanda.

“The young lady is in the Green Room, Your Lordship.”

“This is your last opportunity,” Montgomery said.

“You cannot think to ignore my word,” Amanda said, standing.

“Amanda.” Her mother’s admonitory tone was almost lost in her daughter’s incipient hysteria.

“I’ve never been treated so abysmally in all my life,” Amanda said. She looked to her father for assistance, but the earl, other than a rising color, didn’t indicate he was aware of his daughter’s discomfiture.

Montgomery turned and held out his hand for Veronica. Fingers entwined, they left the dining room, followed by the Earl of Conley, his countess, and Amanda, who was beginning to cry. Behind her trailed the other four cousins, two maids, and Mrs. Brody.

All they needed was a piper to make it a grand procession.

At the door to the Green Room, Montgomery halted, turned, and looked at Amanda. “One last time. Did you take the mirror?”

“I wish we’d never come here,” Amanda said, tearfully.

“I agree,” Veronica said.

Montgomery squeezed her hand and released it, turned the handle of the door, and pushed it open. He glanced at Mrs. Brody and summoned her forward with a gesture of his hand.

“Mrs. Brody, if you would, please.”

“The mirror is gold and about this large,” Veronica said, spreading her hands a foot wide. “The outside of it has a ring of diamonds.”

Mrs. Brody nodded and entered the room.

“I must insist,” Amanda said. “This is the most horrendous and vile intrusion, Father. You can’t think to allow him to behave in such a manner. Not only is it uncouth, but . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“No doubt an American trait,” Montgomery said. “Is that what you were about to say?”

She glanced away rather than answer him.

His gaze turned to the earl. “In Virginia, a gentleman would not inquire as to another man’s business. Not unless, of course, he had reason to believe the man was a thief or a bounder. Do you think those things of me?”

Uncle Bertrand looked as if he had swallowed something the wrong way. He coughed a few times, his color still florid, his gaze lighting on anything but Montgomery.

“I refuse to stand here and allow my family to be so dishonored,” Aunt Lilly said.

“Then I suggest you begin to pack,” Montgomery said. “I don’t like guests, or relatives, who steal from me.”

He held out his hand, and Mrs. Brody walked to stand in front of him, extending the mirror.

“I’ll expect your departure within the hour,” Montgomery said.

“We have just now arrived,” Aunt Lilly said. “A journey, I might add, of more than two days. You cannot expect us to turn around and leave.”

“Not only do I expect it,” he said, in the coldest voice Veronica had ever heard, “but if you’ve not gathered your things in the time I’ve given you, you’ll find yourself in the carriage without your possessions. A fact, I can promise you.”

She truly expected him to turn around and simply walk away. Instead, he reached out, grabbed her hand again, pulling her with him. She had to race to keep up with him, and as she did so, realized he was heading, not back to the distillery, but to his chamber.

Once inside, he closed the doors so forcefully it sounded like a gunshot.

He handed her the mirror he’d taken from Mrs. Brody.

“There is one thing worse than having no family,” he said. “That’s having too much of one.”

“I honestly don’t think of them as my family,” Veronica admitted. “We’re simply related.”

“What did you mean earlier? Has Amanda stolen from you before?”

She looked down at the carpet. How odd she’d never noted it was blue and white, woven in an elaborate pattern that looked faintly Grecian in design.

Montgomery didn’t speak, move, or urge her to confess. Instead, he stood silent and patient.

“She didn’t steal from me,” she said finally. “I paid her to leave me alone.”

“Paid her?”

She glanced up. Montgomery was frowning, the expression more than a little disconcerting. Her family was still at the Hall, and if she didn’t couch the words just right, she’d no doubt Montgomery would search Uncle Bertrand out again.

“I think she was concerned about my shaming the family,” she said. “She was always reporting me to Aunt Lilly or Uncle Bertrand. I didn’t finish this chore. I was bad at a task. I was acting oddly. She was a burr in my shoe, and it was easier to pay her to be silent.”

“Is she behind our reception the night of the Mercaii meeting?”

She nodded.

“Why did you go, knowing there was every possibility you might be discovered?”

His frown had disappeared and, in its place, was a look she’d seen more than once. As if he were regarding her with curiosity laced with incredulity.

“Because I wanted to know more than I feared being found out,” she said.

“About your Gift?”

Perhaps it was time she was honest about that, as well.

“Not just that,” she said, twisting her hands in front of her. “I wanted to know if it was possible to talk to the dead.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. When he spoke, however, it wasn’t to criticize her. Instead, his comment surprised her.

“I didn’t like your cousin from the day we wed,” he said.

“Everyone likes Amanda.”

“Label me a contrarian, then. She flirted with me.”

“Amanda flirts with every man,” she said.

“I thought it was inappropriate for her to do so with a groom on the day of his wedding.”