The Master Of Strathburn (23 page)

Jessie arched an eyebrow. ‘You dinna sound verra much like a Sassenach.’

Robert grinned. ‘Oh, but of course I do, my dear,’ he said in his best clipped upper crust accent. ‘It’s how I survived for near on a decade.’

When Jessie gawped at him like a caught salmon, Robert couldn’t help but laugh.

Within a short time, he had secured a private room at the relatively secluded Invercauld Arms on the banks of the Clunie Water. Thankfully Jessie had seemed too exhausted and distracted to question the arrangement of sharing a room. She did blush a fiery shade of red however, when Robert presented her to the innkeeper and his two daughters as his new wife, Mrs Burnley.

The innkeeper smiled knowingly at them. ‘I will send Mary up to attend to yer room directly, Mr an’ Mrs Burnley,’ he said. ‘And per’aps trays in yer room …’

‘Yes, that would be excellent,’ responded Robert with a smile, continuing his charade of the dashing English gentleman. It was a mantle that still fit very well. ‘My bride and I are a trifle tired from travelling, and given the circumstances, we would very much like a little privacy.’ He handed over an additional handful of guineas. ‘For your discretion shall we say,’ he added with a wink.

‘Och, of course, Mr Burnley,’ beamed the innkeeper. ‘An’ if there’s anythin’ else, just let my daughters know. Mary will take ye up now.’

During this exchange, Jessie had started to lean heavily against Robert and he had put his arm around her slender waist to support her. Her ankle and arm were probably aching like mad. As the girl, Mary started up the stairs toward the guest rooms, he swept Jessie up into his arms.

‘What on earth do ye think you are doing?’ Jessie hissed into his ear.

‘Sorry, my sweet Scottish wife,’ he whispered back as he followed the innkeeper’s daughter. ‘Just putting on a bit of a show. The innkeeper may be less likely to divulge details to anyone who did happen to make enquiries if he thinks we truly are the newly-wedded Burnleys.’

Jessie scowled but nevertheless relaxed in his arms. Until they entered the room, which was very obviously a bridal suite. ‘You could put me down now, you know,’ she whispered, her body stiffening again as soon as Robert had crossed over the threshold.

‘But I like holding you,’ he said, carrying her to the wide four-poster bed that dominated the room. ‘And remember, such is the custom of the newly-wedded.’

Jessie blushed again. She was such an innocent, his affianced. And she was obviously acutely aware, as was he, that they were soon going to be alone with the whole night ahead of them. He prayed he had the strength to keep his hands off her.

Once the candles and the fire were lit, Robert was surprised and more than a bit pleased to see the chamber was well appointed for such a small inn.

The four-poster bed, where Jessie reclined, was covered in a deep blue damask counterpane with an abundance of plump white pillows piled against the carved walnut bedhead. Opposite the foot of the bed was a decent sized fireplace with a pair of matching armchairs and a small oak table arranged before it on the hearth rug. To one side of the rug, by the shuttered windows, was a washstand with a large porcelain basin. The apartment was fit for King George himself.

Mary hovered by the door. ‘Would ye like Elspeth an’ I to bring ye hot water, and towels after yer dinner?’ she asked quietly. ‘We often do for the couples stayin’ here …’

Robert glanced at Jessie—who was still bright red—before returning his gaze to the young maidservant. ‘I think that’s a splendid idea. Thank you indeed, Mary.’

Mary bobbed a curtsy and once the door snicked shut, Robert turned back to Jessie. They needed to talk.

‘I … I wasn’t expecting anything like this,’ Jessie said gesturing about the room, looking everywhere but at him as he approached. She was as skittish as a wildcat. ‘A bed in a nice dry pile o’ straw in a barn would have been sufficient.’

Robert sat beside her on the bed and took one of her hands in his. Jessie bit her lip, further betraying how nervous she actually was …
of him
. ‘Jessie lass, we need to discuss our … situation,’ he began, then stopped, not sure how to continue such a delicate conversation. Several moments passed in which the heavy silence was broken only by the crackle of the fire and the rattle of the window as a gust of wind struck.

It might have been a false start on his part, but it was enough of a prompt for Jessie. She drew in a shaky breath then at last, met his gaze. ‘I would like tha’,’ she said quietly, attempting a smile. ‘Neither of us was expecting anything like this to happen … an’ now we are both wondering …’

‘What will happen next?’ Robert finished. He was heartened to see Jessie’s smile widen.

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘That’s it exactly.’ Her forehead dipped into a frown. ‘So … wha’
will
happen, Robert?’

Robert shrugged, frowning as well. ‘I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But as for tonight …’ He held her gaze, hoping she would see the sincerity in his eyes. ‘I’m not sure what you were expecting, but I want you to know, you mustn’t feel beholden to me even though we have been hand-fasted. I assure you, I will not try to take advantage of you.’ He offered her a half-smile. ‘Well, at least not until we’re properly wed.’

A deep sigh of relief escaped Jessie’s lips and her stiff posture visibly relaxed. He realised he had been right in speaking so plainly about something that had clearly been worrying her. He had also tried to ease her concerns by making a veiled reference to Simon’s demands, and that he, Robert, did not expect anything like that from her.

‘Robert … I understand what you are saying,’ she said, squeezing his hand. ‘An’ thank you. I feel … safe with you. I know you are an honourable man.’

Robert let his gaze wander over Jessie as she sat propped against the pillows, her tousled red-gold curls framing her face, her whisky-brown eyes glowing with warmth. If she only knew how inviting she looked to him sitting there on the bed, and how much he wanted to seduce her, she would not feel so secure.

He drew in a steadying breath, his conscience warring with his baser instincts. ‘Hmm, safe. I’ve never been described quite that way before.’ He cocked an eyebrow. ‘So much for my reputation as a rebellious rogue.’

Jessie smiled back, her eyes dancing with mischief. ‘Och, you have roguish charm aplenty, Robert Grant. But I’m trusting you to keep yer promise, that you will not try to use it on me until after we’re married.’ Her smile then faded and another frown creased her brow. ‘Whilst we are being frank, I also wanted to clear the air … about Simon. It’s difficult to talk about yer brother and what he did …’ She trailed off, absently plucking at the blue counterpane, as if she was searching for the right words.

‘You don’t have to talk about it, Jessie. It’s all right,’ said Robert gently. He could see this was awkward for her. But he also understood that perhaps sharing her experience with him would ease her mind. And it would also stop him from imagining the worst. Hypocritical though it was, given his own past actions, he was having a difficult time dealing rationally with the knowledge that Simon had even kissed Jessie against her will. If anything else had happened … He would need to be physically restrained from tearing Simon apart when their paths crossed again.

Jessie lifted her chin, looking him straight in the eye. ‘No, I need to, Robert. I want you to know tha’ Simon only ever kissed me. Nothing more. I left before he could force me to … submit to any of his other demands. At any rate, I just thought you should know …’

‘I understand,’ Robert replied softly, anger still churning in his gut for what Simon had put her through, but he was also relieved that the swine hadn’t harmed her in any other way.

‘But that’s no’ all,’ she said, suddenly blushing. As he waited for her to continue he noticed the flush spread all the way down her neck to where a tantalising glimpse of cleavage was just visible above her ivory lace fichu. ‘I also want you to know tha’ when you kissed me last night an’ this morning, that it was different … and to be perfectly honest with you … I liked the way it felt … perhaps too much …’ She trailed off, biting her lip for a moment before she took a steadying breath. ‘I wanted you to know that too, seeing tha’ we are now hand-fasted.’

‘I see,’ he said, his heart racing. This was dangerous, very dangerous indeed. He was having a hard enough time dampening his desire for Jessie without this admission, an admission that sent a sudden rush of heat coursing through his veins, straight to his groin. He shifted uneasily on the bed, hoping like hell Jessie wouldn’t notice the telltale sign of his burgeoning arousal.

But he needn’t have worried. Jessie’s gaze was cast downward; she was plucking at the quilt again. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve shocked you wi’ my forwardness haven’t I?’

Guilt pricked his conscience. She had obviously mistaken his silence for disapproval. He reached out and gently tilted her chin upward to capture her gaze again. ‘No, I’m not shocked, Jessie. I appreciate your honesty. You must know that I want you too. However, I do not think it would be wise to compromise you more than I already have, not when my future is so uncertain.’

He wouldn’t go back on his word, no matter how hard he got, or how much his balls ached.

It was going to be a very long night.

* * *

Compromised.
Her heart pounding with longing beneath his focused regard, her flesh tingling beneath his touch, Jessie decided that maybe she would like to be further compromised by her devilishly handsome fiancé. Her common sense had clearly flown out the window. She might be safe from
him
, but was she safe from her own weak and wanton self?

‘Tonight will be difficult for both of us it seems,’ she said without thinking, and then blushed to the very roots of her hair when Robert’s gaze sharpened on her face.
Stop behaving like a wildcat on heat, Jessie Munroe.
Robert was right. They mustn’t give in to their desires. Not when Robert’s situation was so precarious.

A knock at the door saved her from making any further revealing admissions. After checking who was there, Robert unlocked it to admit Mary and Elspeth with their dinner. Jessie’s stomach growled nosily as the maids set out everything on the small table beside the fire. It had been three days since she’d had a decent, hot meal. At least there was one type of hunger she could sate tonight.

Once the innkeeper’s daughters had departed, Robert helped Jessie to the table, then played servant, pouring the wine as well as ladling out steaming portions of jugged hare into bowls for both of them.

‘
Slainte
. To our health, Jessie,’ smiled Robert touching his glass of claret to hers. His eyes were as warm as the deep blue of the sea on a midsummer’s day.

Oh, my goodness.
Jessie really wished Robert wouldn’t look at her like that. She cleared her throat. ‘
Slainte,’
she responded, not surprised at all when her voice emerged with a husky edge. She cleared her throat again. ‘And might I also add, here’s to yer bid for clemency an’ safe return home.’

Robert inclined his head, his mouth tilting into a small lopsided smile. ‘Thank you,
mo ghaoil
. That is one of my deepest desires.’

Only one of them
. Jessie really didn’t want to dwell on what any of Robert’s other desires might be as his gaze focused on her mouth. Instead, she dropped her own gaze to the bowl of fragrant stew in front of her and began to attack her food.

During the meal, and afterwards as they dallied over a platter of autumn pears and cheese, Jessie found herself both entertained and enthralled by Robert as he regaled her with amusing anecdotes about his experiences in France and his life in the Jamaican colony. She thought he must find her terribly provincial given that she had spent most of her life in the far north of Scotland—indeed, the largest city she had ever been to was Edinburgh—but he never showed it by way of comment or expression. In fact, she felt as if he was watching her closely and paying attention to her every word.

‘Tell me more about your family, Jessie,’ Robert said, refilling her wine glass, his eyes barely leaving hers.

‘There’s no’ much to tell really. It’s always just been my father and me, for as long as I can recall.’ Jessie paused as a wave of sadness washed over her. ‘My mother, Elizabeth was her name, passed away when I was only three years old.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Robert’s gaze was compassionate as it rested upon her face. ‘It seems we have that sad circumstance in common. My mother died within a few months of my birth. I think that’s the reason my father remarried so hastily. But your father—Alasdair, is that right?—he never remarried?’

‘No,’ Jessie replied, fiddling with stem of her wine glass. Robert’s eyes were drawn to the play of her fingers and she suddenly felt a little too warm. She took a hurried sip of her claret and Robert’s gaze returned to her face. ‘I’m no’ sure tha’ he ever really stopped grieving for my mother. And then he was always so busy with estate business.’

‘Your father sounds like a resourceful man,’ Robert observed. ‘It’s obvious my father thinks very highly of him.’

Jessie smiled, unaccountably pleased that Robert had taken note of her father’s reputation. ‘He is a wonderful father and the most giving man.’

‘And a canny manager by the sounds of it.’

‘Aye,’ Jessie agreed. ‘If it wasna for his skill, Dunraven, my uncle’s estate would have collapsed long before it actually did. This is difficult to admit but my uncle, Sir Dugald Munroe, was an inveterate gambler—a proclivity he concealed for a verra long time. By the time my father found out the extent of the problem, it was too late. And in the end, it was only because of my father’s generosity tha’ my uncle didna end up in debtor’s prison. My father used his own savings to cover a sufficient amount o’ the debt to prevent that from happening.’ Her mouth tightened with disapproval. ‘The sad thing is, I dinna think my uncle, my aunt or their three daughters will ever really appreciate the sacrifice he made for them all.’

Robert nodded. ‘Where are your uncle and aunt and their daughters now?’ he asked.