Everlastin' Book 1 (15 page)

“Please, stop!” She laughed
tearfully. “Lachlan! Please!”

“Tis to lessen the pain of
first entry, ma Beth,” Lachlan explained as he positioned himself
atop her.

“How could you—”

“
Know you?” he whispered,
searching her flushed face in the sensuous gaslight. “Wha' dinna I
know abou' you,” he said cryptically. He ran the fingertips of his
right hand down her moist cheek then brought the taste of her
perspiration to his lips.

A breath wheezed from Beth.
Everything the man said or did was sensual.

Lachlan lightly brushed his
lips over Beth's before gliding himself into her body. The pain
startled her, sharp and searing, but he was quick to kiss her
deeply, drawing her attention away from the discomfort and
bestowing upon her the anticipation of another horizon of pleasure.
She clung to him, wanting all that he could give, and refusing to
let a single doubt enter her mind.

She began to move in the
rhythm he set. Closing her eyes, she basked in the sheer delight of
his fingers entwining with hers and anchoring her hands above her
head. He kissed her again and again, intermittently nuzzling her
neck, nipping one of her sensitive earlobes. The cadence of his
movements never wavered until she felt his hands squeeze her own.
She became aware of tension building in his magnificent body. And
when he lifted his head to stare into her eyes, she read the strain
he was under to prolong their lovemaking.

About to whisper to him not
to wait on her, she became aware of a subtle sensation blossoming
low in her abdomen. Lachlan brushed his lips across hers, smiling
in his secretive way. But she concentrated on what he was doing to
her body, on the twinges that rapidly began to vibrate in her,
building, almost searing, almost chilling her, building and
sweeping throughout her body.

Lachlan released her hands.
At the instant they both began to crest the summit of physical
rapture, Beth's arms wound about him, drawing him tightly against
her as they shuddered in unison. His arms snaked beneath and around
her, blanketing her within the embrace of his hot, perspiring
skin.

Spent, content to lay
entwined for some time, they reveled in the blissful aftermath of
their experience. Then Lachlan languidly stretched out alongside
her and drew her again into his arms. His chest serving as a
pillow, she closed her eyes and snuggled closer. She sighed
contentedly when he pressed his lips to her brow and murmured a
“Thank you” for what she had done for him.

For him?

She wanted to tell him that
if love on second sight were possible, then she had fallen victim
to its spell. That kiss in the moonlight.... She had known then,
deep down in her heart of hearts, they would become
lovers.

“Happy birthday, Beth,” he
said

“What don't you know about
me?”

Several seconds passed in
silence. When he spoke, there was an edge of sadness to his tone.
“How long it would take a mon to win yer heart.”

Beth peered up at his
jawline. She didn't know what to say. They had become lovers, but
it would end in less than two weeks.

However, a little voice in
her head whispered that she would never leave Scotland. Beth
naturally assumed it was because she was already falling in love
with the mysterious man beside her.

“Beth?”

She nuzzled her cheek
against his chest.

“Did I hurt you?”

She smiled. “No. Did I hurt
you?”

He chuckled. “Wore me ou’,
lass, but I never felt so good or alive as I do now.”

“Lachlan?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

He chuckled again.
“Thank
you.
”

* * *

Cold nipping at her nose
stirred Beth from her sleep. Reluctant to leave the embrace of her
dream, she turned onto her other side and snuggled deeper beneath
the warmth of the bedcovers. But the dream was already becoming
lost to her. It faded into the recesses of memory, the green hills
and romantic picnic she and Lachlan had been sharing moments before
dimming within a haze of dawning reality.

Moaning, she reached out to
locate Lachlan. A sleepy smile danced across her mouth as she
stretched the arm and slid her palm over the smoothness and warmth
of the emptiness beside her. Then it occurred to her that she alone
was in the bed. Cracking open her eyelids, she peered about the
gray-lit room.

The heavy drapes were closed
but for a slash of light where they met. It was morning. Her smile
deepening, she luxuriously stretched her arms and legs then ran her
fingers through her unruly hair.

The night had ended too
quickly, but she would remember all it entailed for the rest of her
life. Sighing contentedly, she rolled onto her back. Every muscle
in her body ached.

She was about to fold her
arms beneath her head when she realized that she was in her room,
not the majestic bed across the hall. The smile and light in her
eyes faded to a frown. The last thing she remembered was feeling
his arms hold her close.

So why was she
here...
alone?

The empty ache in her
stomach made her decide to get up. She tossed aside the top sheet
and heavy quilt—and received another small start of surprise. She
was wearing her nightgown, which, if she remembered correctly, she
hadn't been wearing when she'd fallen asleep in Lachlan's
arms.

Or had it all been a dream,
some cruel wile of her imagination to placate her unease in being
left alone in the mansion?

No.

Last night had not been just
a vivid fantasy. She had made love with Lachlan. All the telltale
aches in her body were no figment of her imagination.

But that would mean Lachlan
had put her nightgown and panties on her, carried her to her room,
and put her to bed without her being aware of it.

A delicate pink stain rose
to her cheeks.

Wait. He had torn the
panties she wore last night. Had Lachlan gone through her things
and found a fresh pair to put on her?

Swinging her feet to the
floor, she released a low, unsteady laugh. After last night, she
couldn't believe anything could embarrass her, certainly nothing in
connection with him.

Her hand flew up to her
cheek. “God! I don't even know his last name!”

She slipped her feet into a
pair of slippers and rushed to the cedar chest at the foot of the
bed. The dampness in the room nipped at her skin. Plucking up a red
and dark green plaid blanket from the several within the chest, she
shook it open and swung it about her frame in one fluid
motion.

And then the awareness crept
up on her again.

The house was fraught with
silence and stillness.

Leaving her room, Beth tried
the handle to the door across the hall. Finding it locked, she
walked down the long hallway to the staircase and descended to the
second floor, where she knocked then looked in to see if Carlene
and David had returned. The bed was empty and fully made as it had
been the previous day. Beth closed the door and headed for the
staircase.

The smell of coffee greeted
her before she reached the ground floor. From the main hall, she
went down a narrow hallway, past two closed doors, to the kitchen
at the end. Opening the door, she immediately spied the bent, old
woman at the stove.

“Good morning,
Agnes.”

A chilling silence followed
Beth's greeting. Then Agnes looked her way and gave a terse
nod.

“Mornin', Missy. Just
startin' yer breakfast.”

“I thought Lachlan dismissed
you.”

“Changed his mind,” Agnes
sniffed.

The warmth and delicious
odors in the room quickly enveloped Beth. Crossing the kitchen, she
brought herself to stand beside the cook. “I'm starving. It must be
the air here. I eat like a bird at home.”

Pointedly refusing to look
again at Beth, Agnes snorted. “Yer appetite's no' all tha's changed
since you arrived.”

Beth tried to tell herself
that Agnes was probably still worked-up from her confrontation with
Lachlan, but she was uncomfortable receiving the brunt of the
woman's churlish mood.

“Is there, ah, anything I
can do to help?”

Silence followed but for the
scraping and clacking of metal utensils on the pans. Beth could
sense a definite air of hostility in the room. Perhaps Agnes had
had another run-in with Lachlan this morning.

“Agnes, is there anything I
can do to help?” Beth repeated, feeling a twinge of
annoyance.

“Tis
ma
job, Missy—when I'm allowed to do
it in peace. Won’t be long. Coffee's—”

“Excuse me, but is something
wrong?”

“Leave me to ma work,
Missy.”

Frowning, Beth backed up
several paces. There was no mistaking it now. Agnes was upset with
her.

“Have you heard anything
from Carlene?”

Silence.

Beth's shoulders squared
back and her tone took on an edge. “Agnes, please.”

“No' a word. But don’t worry
yerself abou' her and the mister.”

“Then what is bothering you
this morning?”

A breath lodged in Beth's
throat when the old woman sharply turned and leveled a look of
disapproval on her. “He got you to his bedroom, didn’t
he?”

Through Beth's deadpan
expression, crimson stole up across her face. “Beg your
pardon?”

“Shame on you,
Missy!”

“Now wait just
a—”

Shaking an isolated finger
up at Beth, Agnes forged on, “Soon as I came in this morn, I felt
his smugness.”

“—
damn minute!”

“The house reeks o' the
wicked play o' last night! I would have thought you'd have better
sense than to take up wi' the likes o' him!”

Beth was at first stunned by
the woman's tirade then anger surfaced. “What happens between two
consenting adults is none of your business!”

“You fool womon! Curse his
clarty soul! I warned you to leave. Didn’t I?
Didn’t I!”

“That's enough!”

Agnes released another snort
and turned to the stove. “It's no' ma business if you choose to
sleep wi' the devil, but I don’t have to like it. Now...get ou' o'
ma kitchen and leave me to ma work.”

“My pleasure,” Beth
murmured.

“And since you've got so
much free time on yer hands, I'll no' waste
ma
time wi' the
clean-upin'.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Agnes mimicked
haughtily. “Lyin' wi' the devil is no' fine at all.”

Chilled to the marrow of her
bones, Beth tried to loosen her white-knuckled grip on the blanket
to re-adjust it about her, but it was as if her fingers were
locked. With as much dignity as she could muster, she asked, “Have
you seen Lachlan this morning?”

“No, and I don’t expect he
has the nerve to show his wicked face to me. I'll put yer breakfast
in the dinin' room when it's ready, then I'll be off.”

“Fine. Thank you,” Beth
murmured as she headed for the door.

Too numb to feel anything at
the moment, Beth shuffled down the hall and headed for the front
doors. Beyond them, she passed through the greenhouse to the large,
black-stained double doors. The instant she stepped out into the
morning air, she filled her lungs and released a slow, quavering
breath.

Was she losing her mind, or
had everything truly been topsy-turvy since she'd set foot in
Scotland?

Hoping fervently Carlene and
David would return before nightfall, she walked away from the front
door and strolled about the graveled yard. Off to her left, in a
distance shielded from her view by trees and shrubs, she could hear
the bleat of sheep and the occasional lowing of cattle. The sound
had to be coming from the field where Lachlan had taken that first
night, where he had kissed her in the moonlight.

Expelling him from her
thoughts, she stepped up onto a grassy area and turned to view the
house in its early morning splendor.

Bright sunlight slashed
across the rooftops of the otherwise shadowed structure. Perched on
these peaks, alongside the variously-sized chimneys, the peacocks
huddled in the warm rays. Looking down at her from their lofty
positions, several released caustic cries, as if telling her they
were as much aware of her.

“My sentiments, exactly,”
she whispered to the birds then looked about her. Patches of fog
hovered serenely over sections of the land, mostly in the darker,
shadowy areas.

Peacefulness embraced her
once again, the balm of nature soothing her troubled spirit. She
couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to wake up in this
land every morning for the rest of her life, to stand exactly where
she was now and feel the satisfaction of knowing this piece of the
world belonged to her. She already knew it was going to be hard to
say goodbye to Baird House when the time came for her to return to
the States. Harder, still, to say goodbye to Lachlan.