My Heart's in the Highlands (18 page)

“I’m sure he would never risk your wrath,” Ian said lightly before finally t
urning away.  “Get some rest, my … Lady Ayr.”

Ian left to the sound of her equally proper farewell and strode wearily across the hall
, eager for his own comfort now that he knew Hero was being taken care of.  He needed to speak with her about his confession but it could wait.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Daughter!”

“I think that might be the fi
rst time your father hasn’t completely bollixed up a romantic moment for us,” Ian teased Hero a couple days later as they rode side by side through the estate’s parklands far south of the castle. 

Hero couldn’t help but smile, not only from the delight of Ian’s humor
but from the enjoyment of being outside once more.   After two days spent in bed being cossetted and pampered, it was a true joy to feel the sunshine warm her flesh and to absorb the sights, sounds, and smells of another glorious summer day.

Her bay mare, Colleen, seemed to feel the same way, prancing and shaking her mane.
  She had been eager as Hero to run and Hero had given Colleen her head, galloping across the open lawns and only slowing to first a trot and then a walk as they neared the tree line where the parkland morphed into the woodlands and deeper forest beyond.

Ian had been by her side the whole time, his laughter melding with hers as they raced along
, the sound trailing like a ribbon in the wind behind them.  But for his daily visits at her bedside, Hero hadn’t seen much of Ian in the last pair of days, and never alone.  Mandy had taken it upon herself to play chaperone, never leaving them alone.

The brief visits had been filled with nothing deeper than inane chatter about the weather and her health when Hero had wanted nothing more than to return to the conversation they
had abandoned in the dungeons.  Ian had said that he loved her…

Had
he meant it or had it merely been a result of their situation?

Perhaps now that she had Ian all to herself, she might find a way to bring it up.

“Daughter!  Ian!” Beaumont called once more, and Hero amended that thought.  She would have to share him with her father, but that didn’t bother her at all.  It was too beautiful a day to waste, and the company of the pair was ever lively.

“What is it, Papa?”

“Come, see!”

In that moment, Hero felt as exuberant as her father often acted these days.
  There was so much worth living for.  Approaching him through the trees, Hero pulled her mount to a halt and swung her leg over the pommel, preparing to dismount.  Just like that, Ian was there.  His hands clasped around her tiny waist as he lifted her from the sidesaddle with a devilish smile.  “You are not thinking of denying me even a moment to hold you, are you?”

Smiling, Hero put her hands on his shoulders and let him lower her to the ground.
  He let her body slide slowly down the length of his before leaning in to whisper, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted, her heart racing giddily as he brushed his lips across hers.

“I cannot imagine how we escaped the castle with only your father,” Ian said.  “She’s been a barnacle stuck to my side for the past two days.”

Hero bit back a mischievous grin.
  At breakfast while her father filled the room with cheerful stories of how Ian had kept him in good company during her recovery, Daphne had smiled with sugary kindness, asking after her welfare.  Though Hero had inwardly wagered that her rival had been glad for her absence and was none too happy with her reappearance, she had—just as sweetly—declared herself fully recovered and brimming with energy … and invited them all on a ride through the park.

 
“Daphne hates to ride, you know," Hero now told Ian.  "Hates horses with a passion, in fact.  If she could travel by train everywhere she went, I’m sure she would happily do so.” 

“And Kennedy?” Ian asked.
“Surely, he enjoys a ride?”

Yes, but a good book more.
  I made sure my new copy of
Westward Ho!
was delivered to him this morning,” she said.  “I would imagine he is in a chair on the balcony, lost in Kingsley.”

Ian chuckled warmly, tweaking her chin.
  “Harry was right.  You are a clever lass.”

Inclining her head with a blush, Hero accepted his compliment.

“Daughter!  You must come and look at this tree!” the duke called again enthusiastically.  “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

Ian
drew back with playful regret and offered her his arm after gathering Colleen’s reins and those of his gelding, Gideon, and looping the reins over a low branch.  Hero took his arm, though she felt a more youthful urge to skip merrily instead of walking sedately across the few yards that separated them from the tree the duke was studying. It was a tangled old thing, the trunk several feet in diameter, twisting this way and that, with branches that did the same.  She had always wondered about it but by the time she reached the castle once more, she always forgot to ask Jennings about it.

“It’s a cedar of Lebanon,” Ian said
, as Beaumont began an assault on the lowest branches that drew a gasp from Hero.

Thankfully
, with his thick build, the duke was unable to lift a leg as far as the lowest branch, and Hero cast a sigh of relief before raising a brow to Ian.  “Is that what it’s called?  I’ve always wondered.  It must be very old.”

“Over a hund
red years easily,” Ian answered as he retrieved the duke’s wandering horse and secured it as well.   Then he reached for the duke, who was now swinging from the branch.  “Come now, Harry.  Down from there.”

“Brilliant, isn’t it?” Beaumont said to Hero.
  “I must remember to tell your mother about it when we get home.”

“Papa, Mama died several years back, don’t you recall?” Hero said, feeling the tug of sadness that always accompanied such reminders.  The feeling was at odds with the joy of the day.

Beaumont’s expression clouded for a moment.
  “Died?  Of course, of course.  I remember.”

Ian
cut in jovially, “I see an odd little building through the trees over there, Harry.  What say you?  Should we see what it is?”

“It’s the pagoda I told you about,” Hero told him as they turned in that direction.

Ian slipped his hand down to take hers, and they walked along and studied the building on their approach.  It was a wooden structure of three consecutively smaller tiers in the traditional Chinese style.  The eaves on each arcing roofline curled upward at the ends of each point of the hexagonal roofs.  There was a stone terrace around it that cantilevered out over the wide creek Hero had mentioned.  Shaded by the surrounding trees and low-hanging willows, it was a marvelous location for a romantic midnight rendezvous.

“Our pagoda?” Ian murmured suggestively as
they crossed a low bridge that carried them to the other side of the creek, driving the momentary sadness away.  They stepped onto the terrace while Beaumont disappeared into the small structure.  Dark eyes warmed Hero until she felt the arousal that always lingered on the fringes of her time with him spark and flare within her.

“Now you know how to get here
,” Hero whispered, squeezing his hand as he lifted hers to his lips, pressing an ardent kiss there.  He brushed her hand back and forth across them before kissing her hand once more.

“You should not tease,” he warned in a low tone, resting his hips back against the iron railing of the terrace.

With a surge of confidence, Hero leaned toward him and whispered as if imparting a secret, “I do not.”

His brows rose
in surprise and his eyes gleamed.  He flashed that half smile that never failed to twist at her heart.  “Tonight?”

Hero’s heart thudded heavily inside her chest at the thought of meeting him here in this romantic setting alone with only the darkness surrounding them.
  He would hold her in his arms, perhaps press her back against the railing as he was now.  They could pick up where they had left off in the music room.  Hero quivered with burgeoning desire and exhaled with a shaky sigh, “Oh, yes.”

Ian looked down into Hero’s sparkling eyes, seeing the warmth dancing there as well as anticipation that matched his own, and felt lust stab through his heart.  He wanted nothing more than to strip off her snug riding habit, fling her dainty hat to the winds, and bury himself in her sweet body.

It had been days since he had seen her
in private, days since he had touched her, and he was overcome by the need to feel her soft skin beneath his fingers once again.  To feel her tremble with desire.  Her pulse was fluttering in her neck, and Ian gave in to his impulses.  Tracing a finger down her neck, he felt her tense.  Hero’s breathing quickened and her cheeks grew flushed, arousing him even more.  Charming him more than ever.

Glancing down, he watched her breasts strain against her tight bodice with each rapid breath she took and knew she wanted him as well.
  He brushed his knuckles over the slope of her breast, feeling her pert nipple beneath the thin, summery lawn.  Hero inhaled sharply and swayed forward, and Ian couldn’t stop himself from capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

T
here was no tentativeness left in her kiss.  She met his lips eagerly, parting hers to welcome him deeper as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.  His hand uncurled as if by its own free will until he was cupping her breast in his palm, and he felt her softly moan against his lips.

His body surged to life,
and his blood boiled.  Hero’s hands slipped inside his coat and under the edge of his waistcoat.  Even with the linen barrier of his shirt, Ian could feel the heat of her flesh there and through the bodice of her habit.  Her nipple hardened and Ian rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, earning a gasp of delight against his lips.  She rocked her hips against his, and with a groan of surrender Ian dropped his free hand to cup her bottom and pull her closer, letting her feel the turgid length their passion had inspired.

God, but he could take her right here.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Sir, you will unhand my daughter!”

Hero leapt away like a cat on fire
at Beaumont’s thunderous words, and Ian shifted as guiltily as a schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar and felt an unfamiliar flush creep along his cheeks.  In the heat of their lust, he’d completely forgotten about the duke.

And as far as interruptions went,
this was by far the most direct one they had received.  Hero was blushing mightily herself, though she began to natter breezily as if nothing had even happened.

Though the duke often acted similarly, today he uncharacteristically stayed on topic.
  He glared at Ian with his arms clasped over his chest, looking every bit a duke of the realm.  In years past, he must have been an intimidating man, Ian thought.  Years past?  Ian shook his head.  Bugger it, but Beaumont was pretty damned intimidating right now!

“Explain yourself, sir!”
  The duke’s resonant voice broke the awkward silence once more, and Ian didn’t know whether to laugh or cower.  What did one say to a father when he’d been caught red-handed with his hand on a daughter’s breast?

“I demand satisfaction, sir!” Beaumont continued, pulling off his riding glove.

Hero rushed forward to put herself between them and put a hand on her father’s chest.  “Now, Papa, be sensible!  You don’t want to hurt Ian, do you?”

“He’s a rogue!
  A scoundrel!  A … A …”

Hero and Ian both held their breath, hoping that with his loss of words, Beaumont would also lose interest in the subject
, as was his wont.  But they weren’t so lucky.  “A scalawag!”

“Your grace,” Ian began, but Hero spoke again.

“Papa, really!  Stop this nonsense right this instant!”

“Nonsense?” the duke thundered
at her.  “You think it's nonsense to protect my daughter’s person and honor from a cad such as this?”

“Yes!” Hero cried, but this time it was Ian’s turn
to interrupt with a resounding “No.”

Hero turned to him with wide
, disbelieving eyes that quickly turned to pleading.  “Ian, you are not helping!  He’s serious, you know.”

“I know,” Ian assured her with a tender smile before turning to Beaumont.
  “Your grace, if you would allow me to put this to rights?   Instead of a duel for Hero’s honor, perhaps I might instead ask you for the honor of allowing your daughter to become my wife.”

“Ian!” she squeaked in surprise.

Beaumont did not seem to share her astonishment at all.  Instead he nodded gravely as if that had been his very thought all along.  “Just so, Lord Ayr.  I knew a man of your integrity would do as duty demands.”

“It is no duty, your grace,” Ian answered, waiting to s
ee if there was anything further that Beaumont cared to add.

The duke only waved his hand impatiently.
  “Well, get on with it then, lad!”

It was a difficult thing to begin an impromptu proposal not only with an audience but with the subject of that proposal staring at him as if he had suddenly grown two heads.  Hero was shaking her head at him with a dazed expression that denied the turn of events.  “You don’t have to do this, Ian.  Just because …”  She wafted a hand back and forth between them helplessly.

“No one is forcing me, my love,” he assured her.
  Beaumont cleared his throat impatiently, and Ian threw him an exasperated glance.  Turning back to Hero, Ian searched her wide eyes for some encouragement, but her usually vivid eyes were almost glassy with shock.

This
was certainly not how he had envisioned this moment.

Taking her hand between his, Ian smiled down at her.
  “I know these last couple of days have not allowed us an opportunity to speak of what I said in the caves.  It might have been rash and unexpected but I do not regret saying it.  I love you, sweet Hero.  I know that our time has been short.  I know some might think me insane, but I do, and you have said you love me as well …”

“When did this all happen?” Beaumont interjected
, but Ian just cast him another, more impatient, look and the duke subsided, taking a step back and waving imperiously for Ian to continue.

“I didn’t intend to do this under these circumstances
… or with an audience.”  A grin lifted the corner of Ian’s lips.  “But I did intend to do it.  It is the right thing to do.” 

Hero knew that he didn’t mean
only that it was the right thing to save her honor but that it was also the right thing for them both overall.  As if he knew that this had always been the inevitable outcome of their meeting.  Still, she was still flabbergasted by his announcement.  “I’m just so surprised!”

“
In my experience, doing the right thing usually has the tendency to astound some while it gratifies others,” her father intoned solemnly.  “I am, of course, one of the gratified.”

“Harry, please,”
Ian said with exasperation,  “I can take it from here.”

The duke raised both hands defensively, taking a
nother step away, but leaned in quickly once again to add,  “You do have my permission to kiss her now, though … should it become necessary.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Ian
said, and shook his head as the duke walked away, smiling benignly.

Turning back to Hero, he saw that her wide-eyed expression was still firmly in place.
  “What say you, my love?  Are you going to keep me on pins and needles?”

“I’m just so
…”

“Surprised.
  I know.” Ian grinned down at her though some doubts had begun to worm their way inside.  Not doubt that she loved him, but doubt as to whether that love extrapolated in her mind as it did in his. Into a life shared. Ian had never been one lacking in confidence.  He had spent a large portion of his life literally standing in the line of fire.  What was it about this woman that cast him into doubt?

Ian knew the answer even as he questioned himself.
  It was because more than his life was riding on her answer.  It was something he had never known he could desire so much, need so much.  Hero might carry him to the highest mountain with the joy of an affirmative answer, but a negative one …

“It is too soon,” he said, turning away.

“No! No!” Hero protested, grabbing him by the arm to turn him back.  “I’m sorry, Ian!  You did just take me by … I just never thought that you might … that you truly … oh!”  Hero threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

Ian hesitated
, but the heat of her kiss rapidly dissolved his dismay and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting Hero until her toes were off the ground.

 
“No pins,” she whispered against his lips. “No needles.  I would love to be your wife.  Everyone will think us mad, to be sure.”

“They can think as they please,” Ian said, then whispered more softly in her ear.
  “Should a hasty marriage also find me as speedily in your bed, I can only wonder why I did not think to compromise you earlier.”

“You were
courting me, remember?” Hero teased with a smile, then her eyes widened with wonder.  “Oh, you actually were courting me, weren’t you?”

Ian rolled his eyes
with a mental groan. “You are a most frustrating woman.”

“You really did intend to ask me all along?” she asked.
  “You weren’t just saying that?”

“
Truly, Hero, how can such a brilliant woman be so oblivious?”

Hero knew that Ian meant his mocking words as a jest, and while they did not sting with insult they did hurt after a fashion.  Pulling away from him, she leaned against the rail overlooking the stream, not seeing the dreamlike haven created by the hanging willows and summer moss but the ballrooms of years past.  “When you look at me, Ian, what do you see?” she asked softly without looking back.

“Is this a trick question?” Ian asked
, and Hero could tell by his tone alone that the crow’s feet by his eyes would be just a fraction deeper, that his eyes would be aglow with light humor, and the corner of his mouth would be lifted just a notch.  There was just that touch of amusement that disguised a trace of concern.

Glancing from the corner of her eye, she saw it there just as she
had suspected, and he must have seen something in her as well.  He crossed his arms over his broad chest and considered her thoughtfully.  “I see a lass of astonishing beauty both on the surface and in her soul.  The gold of her hair is outshone only by her golden heart.  I see a woman I desire and love more than I had ever dreamed possible.”

Hero’s heart warmed with his words.
  She knew that romantic expression was new to Ian.  His discomfort when voicing what Robert would surely have referred to as nothing but twaddle painted a clear picture of how often Ian had spoken such words in the past.  The words emerged in awkward tones but they were more profound because of that lack of familiarity.

For all that Ian might consider waxing poetic emasculating,
or believe that saying what was in his heart made him less of a man, he still said the words, just as he had that night in the music room, to reassure her as she needed to be. 

Little did the male species know that what seemed to cost them so much enriched a woman even more.
  That words of love and admiration were a gift beyond measure that made many a woman think even more highly of a man.

“Hero?” Ian prompted, recalling her to the topic at hand.

Staring down into the water below her once more, Hero watched her reflection waver on the surface and saw once again the past.  “Do you know what every other man I ever met saw?” she asked rhetorically.  “They saw my father.  His wealth, his title, his connections.   They saw a chance to align themselves with him.  They saw me not as a person but as an asset.  A thing.  My beauty,” she sneered the word, “was merely a bonus.  I was never courted by someone who wanted me.  Just
me
.  Robert asked for my hand after meeting me but twice.  He wed me without knowing me at all.  Afterward, over the years, we became friends but there was never this romance, this desire.  You might think me dull-witted, my lord, but how is one to recognize something when it is the first time they’ve ever encountered it?  Courting?  I thought this only a seduction, though I am clearly lacking in experience there as well.”

Ian sighed
impatiently and turned to lean his hips against the rail.  With his arms still crossed over his chest, he frowned sternly down at her.  “Hero, did I not clearly tell you that I was courting you?”

“You did say that but
…” Hero bit her lip but Ian just waited.  “I suppose that I thought you meant only to court me into your bed.”

“I believe I was also quite clear in saying that this,
” he continued, waving his hand between them, “was not something that could be exhausted in a day’s time.”

Hero frowned
, recalling his words.  “You did, but I thought perhaps you meant an extended affair.”

“I told you that I love
d you,” he pointed out with noticeable exasperation.

“I thought you were only saying that because we were going to die.”