Cowboys and Highlanders (24 page)

He waited for no response—needed no response—other than the reaction he would get when her body responded to his—and scooped her into his arms. She gave a surprised cry.

So, she was no mind reader, after all.

Marcus strode through the connecting closet into his room. He stopped before the massive bed. Her gaze shifted to the bed, then moved across her new surroundings. Her attention lingered on the fire burning in the hearth, then flicked upward to the sword which hung over the mantel.

Elise abruptly looked at him, seeming to have forgotten she lay in his arms. He kissed her. She wriggled as if to slip through the miniscule space between his arms and chest. Marcus flicked his tongue into her mouth, mimicking the motion he would soon replicate inside her body. She stilled, and he wondered if she was envisioning the same action.

At last, he broke the kiss. He scrutinized her face until her gaze fell to his chest. Slowly, he lowered her feet to the carpeted floor. He pushed the robe and night rail from her shoulders. His gaze followed the slither of their descent until they struck the floor.

Marcus tipped her head up until she faced him and whispered, "Touch me."

Elise didn't move, didn't blink, and he held his breath.

She shifted, only minutely at first, then lifted a hand to finger the topmost button still intact on his shirt. She reached with the other hand and unbuttoned the button, then the next, then the last. Her gaze remained focused on his chest. Marcus stifled heavy breaths when she slipped her hands inside his shirt and slid them up and over his shoulders. He dropped his arms to his sides, allowing the shirt to fall to the floor.

Her hands glided down his chest. Ripples of pleasure radiated through him. He hardened more with each inch she descended. She stopped with her fingers clasped around his belt. She slipped the leather from its loop. The clasp clinked in the silence of the room as she unfastened it. The plaid loosened and dropped into a pile at his feet. She didn't move, and he realized her gaze was fixed on the jutting, hard length of him. He didn't move—wasn't about to move. She could stare at him all night and, knowing her eyes were on him, he could maintain his arousal until she tired of the sight. Her gaze did move, though, back to his chest where she placed her palms.

"You're so hard," she said, as though marveling at something she hadn't the slightest notion could have been.

Marcus choked back a groan. He backed her against the bed and she fell onto the mattress. He scooted her farther up onto the bed, then rose over her, holding his body inches above her. He gently kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, her eyelids, cheeks, mouth. Here he lingered, rocking his hips against her in light motions as he drew the kiss out. Elise ran her hands along his back, hesitating at the curve of his buttocks.

"Aye, love," he whispered, placing small kisses at the corner of her mouth, then along her neck. "Touch me as you like."

He rocked again and, this time, her hands continued around and over the curve of his buttocks. Marcus groaned as he took a nipple between his lips. He gently parted her legs with a knee, then eased into her. He moved slowly, drawing out her pleasure. He suckled one breast, then the other until, at last, her fingers tightened on the tensed muscles of his buttocks. He quickened his movements. An instant later, she cried out softly and lifted her hips to meet his movements. Another instant, and he emptied into her. He waited until the throb of his body ceased, then hugged her close and slid to her side.

* * * *

Elise relaxed against the carriage's cushion. She closed her eyes, allowing the motion of the carriage to lull her. The journey from Brahan Seer to the lowlands had been easier than expected. The stop at the Green Lady Inn earlier that morning had divided a tedious eight-hour ride into two, more comfortable, four-hour portions. Now, less than two hours from Ashlund, they would first stop at Sophie's estate.

She opened her eyes and looked out the window at Marcus, who rode alongside the carriage. He sat, as always, easy in the saddle. There had been little time to think of him today. Sophie had kept her distracted with plans for Ashlund and the visits they would make to the
modiste
, as well as a number of other merchants, who were sure to provide what Sophie said she needed to fulfill her role as the new Marchioness of Ashlund.

A tremor ran through her. She shifted her attention to him. Without Sophie's monologue filling her head with visions of jewels and bolts of rich fabrics, and without Mary's enthusiastic contributions as to which dresses and jewelry Elise should wear to the parties, she couldn't deny she was, completely and fully, Elise MacGregor, Marchioness of Ashlund.

Her body warmed. There had been no denying that fact last night when Marcus had bedded her for the first time as his wife. She slid her gaze down his body to the muscled calf visible between kilt and boot. The memory of his thighs between her legs last night, then again this morning, dried her throat. She swallowed. Her throat moistened, but her heart beat faster as if in rhythm with his thrusts when he brought her to climax. How many nights such as that lay ahead of her? Was it possible they could live in peace? Could she could make him happy?

"He is a fine male specimen," Sophie said.

Elise jerked her gaze to Sophie, who regarded her from her seat in the far corner. Mary gave a titter of laughter, and Elise scowled. "You must make some people very nervous, Sophie."

"I do, indeed," the countess replied without hesitation. "I am pleased Marcus agreed to stop at Whycham House. You need a rest and I so want you to meet Justin."

"I'm glad as well," Elise said.

The carriage rounded a bend in the road and a rider became visible in the distance. Marcus kicked his horse and galloped to meet the rider. An instant later, Kiernan's horse passed the carriage at a gallop as he, too, sped to intercept the rider.

"What's happened?" Sophie demanded.

"A rider," Elise replied, without taking her eyes off Marcus.

Sophie moved from her side of the coach to sit beside her. Sophie leaned close and they watched as the man stopped and Marcus pulled his stallion to a halt beside him. Kiernan joined them a moment later. They spoke, then Marcus and the man whirled their horses in the direction the man had come and Kiernan spurred his horse back toward the carriage. The carriage halted as Kiernan arrived.

"What is it?" Elise demanded.

"A fire at Ashlund."

Both women gasped.

"It's the stables," Kiernan called. "The horses are safe, but there's been a casualty. My father and Jeremy are riding ahead. I will see you to Whycham House, then follow."

"We are nearly to Whycham House," Sophie said. "You needn't accompany us the rest of the way."

Kiernan shook his head. "Father instructed me to see you safely there." He shouted at the driver to move on.

The coach lurched into motion. Kiernan urged his horse to precede the coach and, twenty minutes later, they arrived at Whycham House. Kiernan waited only until the coach passed through the gates, then whirled his horse before Elise could ask any questions. She emerged from the carriage, her gaze following the boy as he disappeared from sight down the road.

"Don't worry." Sophie rested a hand on Elise's arm. "They know how to deal with such matters."

"But we don't know a thing about what has happened."

"Come along, Mary," Sophie instructed the maid as she hooked her arm through Elise's and started up the walkway of the imposing mansion. "Trust them to deal with the fire." Sophie led Elise across the threshold and into the foyer.

Elise tossed her riding vest onto the bed and crossed to the chair nearest the window as Mary closed the bedchamber door behind them when Sophie left.

"Now, there must be some water here somewhere," Mary said, as she glanced around the room. "There it is." She hurried across the room to the dresser.

Elise seated herself in the chair and bent to unlace her boots. "Freshen yourself first," she said. "I'll rest a few minutes then see to myself."

"I canna' do that," Mary exclaimed. She poured water from the pitcher into the bowl it sat in. "The laird would be displeased."

"The
laird
isn't here to care," Elise replied. She wondered if Marcus had reached Ashlund yet. The estate lay another hour and a half away by carriage. A fast horse could have gotten him there in half the time.

"Aye," the girl replied with a deep sigh. "It must be difficult for you considering the danger." Mary took a step back and surveyed the dresser drawers. She opened the top right drawer. "Oh, fine," she said, and pulled out a washcloth.

"By the time they arrive to Ashlund, the fire may be out," Elise said.

"Mayhap," Mary said. She dipped the cloth in the water and wrung it out. "Just pray the main house doesna' catch fire in the process."

Elise straightened from her boot. "What do you mean?"

"I'm going to Ashlund," Elise announced an hour later as she entered the drawing room.

Sophie looked up from the tea she was pouring. "Marcus said you were to stay here." She set the teapot down.

"He did not." Elise stopped in front of her. "Kiernan simply escorted us here so he could hurry to Ashlund."

"You know he intended for you to remain here."

"He probably thought I would be more comfortable here and that I might not want to arrive at Ashlund under such circumstances. Had we discussed the matter, I would have explained none of those things mattered."

Had Marcus told her the grove that separated the stables from the house had burned once before, nearly taking the house with it, he wouldn't have been able to keep her away. Winnie's story of how her uncle had burned while asleep in his house came back to Elise with the same horrifying realism it had when Mary described how the grove burned thirty years ago.

"Why the concern?" Elise said when the furrows in Sophie's forehead deepened. "Daylight will last another two hours. I can reach Ashlund long before dark. I will take the driver, along with the men Marcus assigned to accompany us." Sophie still looked doubtful and Elise added, "Along with two of your men, they can help with the fire."

"Three of our men," she said. "Keep them as long as Marcus needs them. Perhaps I should send more? Oh dear, I should have thought of that earlier. I wish Justin were here. He would deal with this far better than I." She looked at Elise, adding in a hopeful voice, "He should be returning any moment."

"We have all the time in the world to get to know one another," Elise said. "Now, let's have the carriage readied."

* * * *

Marcus slowed his stallion as he neared the stables at Whycham House. The boy Samuel emerged from the stables and Marcus came to a halt beside him. Marcus dismounted and tossed the reins to him.

"See to him, Samuel," he said, and started for the house.

He hurried along the footpath. Despite exhaustion last night, he had missed Elise. He entered without knocking and went directly to the drawing room where, as expected, Sophie sat on the couch facing the window overlooking the gardens. Elise, however, wasn't present.

Sophie looked up. Her brow furrowed. "What is amiss?"

"The only thing amiss," he replied, "is that my wife isn't here. Is she still abed? It is nearly—"

Sophie's eyes widened and she gave a soft gasp.

Marcus felt an instant of confusion, then his heart leapt into a furious rhythm. "What is it? Where is she?"

Sophie stood, the needlework in her lap falling to the floor. "She left yesterday, a short time after we arrived."

"What?" Marcus's head spun. "I instructed her to wait until I came for her." He broke from the cold hand of fear and strode to Sophie. She looked up at him, panic on her face. He grasped her shoulders. "Why did Justin allow her to leave?"

"He wasn't here. Elise was concerned about you."

"And you let her go?" Marcus shook her hard enough to loosen several hairpins. Two curls struck her shoulder.

"It was still light," Sophie said, her voice so shaky Marcus realized she was close to tears. "I travel between Whycham House and Ashlund often. Marcus!" Tears streamed down her cheeks. "You know it is true. I have never feared traveling on that road, even at night."

Marcus released her, his hands working and reworking into fists.

"She took three of our men," Sophie went on. "I told her to keep them as long as needed at Ashlund. It was early. I had no reason to—"

"No reason to think!" he roared, and stepped closer. She didn't retreat. "She is not to travel alone," he shouted. "There have been threats—"

"Threats?" Sophie's gaze hardened. "Threats you say? I ask you, then, why we weren't told? Should Justin not have been informed? Should not some provisions have been made? My God, Marcus, why have you kept silent?"

He struggled to answer, but the words—his mind—nothing worked.

"What are these threats?" Sophie asked in a voice so reasonable, so firm, Marcus snapped from his indecision.

"There's no time for explanations." Sophie opened her mouth to speak, but he said, "First, we find her."