A Scot's Surrender
Author: Tammy Andresen
Date: 2018-03-06 08:00:00+00:00
Description: An innocent debutante and a rogue... Miss Agnes Faulkenberry dreams of a gentleman, a knight in shining armor that sweeps her off her feet. Laird Keiran McKenna is nothing like her dreams. A rogue and sworn bachelor, she finds him irritating, when he isn't causing her breathless excitement. The more time she spends with him, the more the line between knight and rogue blurs. Not that it matters, because he'd never love her in return would he? Laird Keiran McKenna has no intention of marrying. He's seen too much darkness to make any woman happy. But Agnes is the worst. A dewy-eyed prim miss who

Table of Contents

- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Epilogue

A Scot’s Surrender

A Laird to Love

Tammy Andresen

Copyright © 2018 by Tammy Andresen

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Contents

Untitled

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

My Laird’s Seduction

Other Titles by Tammy

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Untitled

A Scot’s Surrender

A Laird to Love Book 3

By Tammy Andresen

Boarshead Inn, Kirkcaldy, Scotland

Spring, 1852

Prologue

Boarshead Inn, Kirkcaldy, Scotland

Spring, 1852

Agnes lay in bed, the sounds of muffled voices filtering into her room. Well, it wasn’t her room, actually. And she wasn’t alone. On the floor, within arm’s reach, lay Laird Keiran McKenna.

She’d come to the inn as her cousin Lady Clarissa’s companion. Clarissa had sent her fiancé, Lord Dumfries, away but had realized what a fool she’d been. They had travelled without proper planning so that Clarissa could catch Ewan and ask him to return. That was when things had begun to go wrong. Well, not for Clarissa, but for Agnes.

A storm had rolled in that forced them to stay at the inn. Several other travelers, however, had the same idea and the inn was full. What was worse, was Clarissa had disappeared with Ewan. That was fine for Clarissa, her and Ewan would surely marry. Agnes was in a different situation entirely as she’d been left in the company of one of her least favorite men, Laird McKenna.

They’d been at her cousin’s family home for the past two weeks together and she knew enough of him to be certain he was a man she would never marry. Not ever.

It wasn’t that he was unattractive, quite the contrary. Nor was he mean or contemptible. It was more that he was rather insistent upon not obeying the rules of society. And in Agnes’s experience, men who disregarded those rules often left the women closest to them in vulnerable and sometimes ruinous situations.

His steady breathing captured her attention, and she found herself breathing along with him, entranced by the sound.

“Go to sleep, Agnes,” he growled from his spot on the floor.

“I’m trying,” she huffed, her head lifting from the pillow. “But I can’t seem to stop thinking about how I will be ruined after tonight.”

He let out a long sigh. “I’m not sleeping in the common room. It doesn’t matter how much ye squawk.”

She sat up then, the ropes underneath the mattress creaking. “I am not squawking, and it’s your duty as a gentleman to allow me to have the room…alone.”

“There are no more rooms, and I am not sleeping with the riff raff. I paid for a room.”

“But a gentleman—”

He stopped her before she could say more. “I’m not a gentleman.”

“Exactly my point. Clarissa and Ewan will marry after tonight, it doesn’t matter that they are together—”

“We are not getting married.” His voice was rough, harsh with his denial.

She inched closer to the edge of the bed, trying to see his face. Not because she needed to read his expression, his meaning was very clear. It was more that it was a very nice face, handsome in a rough masculine way that occasionally made her forget that he had no regard for polite behavior. And it was crucial she had a husband who understood the importance of caring for the women in his life. “It’s not as though I didn’t know that already. Trust me, when I say, I share the same sentiment.”

He didn’t answer, but she heard him turn away from her, grumbling to himself as he moved. He lay on the hard floor, with nothing but a single blanket that was half under him and half covering his body. A coat was tucked under his head. His very broad shoulders jutted up from the floor, and his long, muscular body stretched out well past the blanket. He was the sort of man after which statues were modeled. She wondered how muscles like his felt. Were they hard and cold like marble or warm to the touch?

She also couldn’t help noticing how uncomfortable it looked. She grabbed the pillow from her own bed and slid her feet to the floor.

“Agnes,” he warned again.

Crouching next to him, he turned toward her then. Even in the dark, she could see a glint in his hazel eyes that made her breath catch. It was like the one time she’d tasted brandy. It had slid down her throat like fire. Causing warmth to spread through her entire body.

That was how Keiran’s gaze made her feel now. She thrust the pillow at him, not knowing what else to do. “I’m in the soft bed. I’ll use my coat for a pillow, and you can use this.”

Hesitating, he looked skeptically at the pillow as she thrust it closer to him.

“It isn’t going to bite you,” she huffed as he continued to look doubtfully at the pillow.

Finally, he took it out of her hand, their fingertips grazing, and the tiniest gasp escaped her lips. He heard it anyway and she saw the way his gaze narrowed, his breath stopping for a moment as something delicious crackled in the air. “You should go back to bed.”

She nodded, getting ready to stand, but then she paused. “I’ve never been alone with a man like this before.”

“Keep it that way til ye’re married,” he said, turning away from her again.

That, however, did not deter her. In fact, it made it easier to talk to him without his penetrating gaze upon her. How else could she explain the confession that she allowed to slip past her lips. “I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever be married. I’ve never even been kissed.”

He looked back to her, then, before she could blink, his entire body had shifted so his face was an inch from hers. “You’re smart, pretty, and the kindest person I ken. Ye’ll be married before ye can turn in a circle.” Every part of her warmed at the compliment.

“Thank you.” She found herself leaning closer to him, until their lips almost touched. She wanted to keep moving closer, but fear stopped her. Her heart skipped a beat as she hoped he would do what she daren’t.

He didn’t. Still as stone, his gravelly voice shook through her. “But it won’t be me. I won’t kiss ye, and I most certainly won’t marry ye,” he rasped. “Go back tae bed.”

She would have jumped back on the bed at his harsh tone, but at some point, he had rested his hand on her hip and as she made to move his grip tightened, holding her close. It confused her to no end, his words pushed her away, but his touch, it made her breathless with anticipation. And she felt that same energy from him. He was excited too. It pulsed from his fingertips, straight to her core. “I didn’t mean for you to kiss—”

“Aye, ye did.” His body was moving closer, heating hers. Filling her with an energy she’d never known but it was intoxicating. “Ye don’t want me, though, ye just want the experience. I ken ye think I’m no good.”

Her breath caught again as her hand fluttered to his chest. When they’d met a few weeks before, Agnes had been travelling with her mother and her aunt. Keiran and Lord Dumfries had happened upon them when their wheel was broken. Lord Dumfries had aided them on the side of the road while Keiran had sat on his horse and watched, not offering any help. “An upstanding man would have assisted us when our wheel…” She didn’t finish because he squeezed her hip tighter.

“I never claimed to be upstanding. I’ve seen and done things…” He stopped, his breath fanning her face.

He didn’t have to finish. She knew he’d been in the war. Trembling, she lifted her other hand so that it rested against his cheek. “I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything, Keiran. I can’t imagine how difficult being a soldier was, but it’s all right now.”

She hadn’t thought the moment could grow any more intimate until his forehead came to rest against hers. “I wish that were true.” His other hand came to her face and they sat touching each other, head’s together, hands on each other’s faces as long moments passed. “You have a chance at a pure life, lass, and that isn’t with me.”

Then his touch was gone. He lay back down, rolling over and away from her. The sudden loss of contact made her feel cold, alone as she slowly rose and climbed back into the empty bed.

Chapter One

Eight months later

Iverness Estate

Dunbar, Scotland

Miss Agnes Faulkenberry gave a prim curtsey as she notched her jaw higher in the air.

“You remember Laird McKenna,” the Earl of Dumfries, Ewan McDougal, gestured toward his friend as he made the necessary introductions.

“Of course,” she gave a tight smile. Keiran McKenna. It had been eight months since she’d seen the cad laird. Sure, he was wealthy with a vast estate. And yes, he’d worked hard to make that estate profitable after his return from the war.

It couldn’t be denied that he was exceedingly handsome, with dark hair and piercing hazel eyes. He possessed that easy charm that could lull a girl into losing her heart before she understood that his grace masked a devilish intent.

She’d seen it firsthand.

“A pleasure to see you again, Miss Faulkenberry and Mrs. Faulkenberry.” His deep voice caressed her skin as he gave a bow of his own. Then bowed to her mother. The sight of his muscles flexing as he bent might have made her stomach flutter, except she knew exactly what he was.

Keiran McKenna was a rake. An unrepentant rogue. She’d known it the first time she’d met him on a rutted Scottish road.

But he’d proven it beyond a shadow of a doubt when she’d accompanied Clarissa to the inn. She’d been stewing about it for months. Eight actually. That was how long it had been since he’d held her close, filled her with heat and longing, and then ignored her completely.

“And you as well,” she gritted out as she picked a spot somewhere over his right shoulder to direct her gaze. She’d learned from experience not to look directly into his eyes. She’d likely get lost in those eyes. Gray like the sea on a cloudy day and just as deep and endless. And it was important that she remember what their beauty hid: a roguish heart.

“Agnes!” Clarissa’s voice rang through the entry as she stepped into view on the balcony above. Ewan bounded up the stairs to meet his wife, leaving Agnes to stand with Keiran and her mother.

Ewan reached his wife at the top of the steps. Then, wrapping his arms about her, he gave her a long kiss. Agnes felt heat fill her cheeks.

It was indecent, of course, such a public display of affection, but that wasn’t what was embarrassing. Of late, she’d found herself wondering what it might be like to be kissed in such a way, and if she wasn’t careful, it was Keiran McKenna she pictured giving her that kiss.

“Warms the heart to see them in love like that,” Keiran murmured next to her.

She gave a delicate sniff. She wished she were stronger. If she were, she’d tell him that he likely had no heart, but that wasn’t her way. “I’m very happy for them both.” And she was. No one deserved love like that more than her cousin.

Ewan began helping Clarissa down the stairs. Their progress was slow as Clarissa half-waddled from step to step.

“It was good of ye to come.” Keiran cleared his throat. “I ken they’re both anxious about the baby.”

Agnes’s cheeks heated for another reason entirely: anger at his high-handedness, telling her how her own cousin felt. “I know she is anxious. I don’t need you to tell me—”

Her mother gave her a sharp look, ending her tirade.

Clamping her mouth closed, she concentrated on Clarissa, who’d finally reached the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ve missed you both so much,” Clarissa beamed as she opened her arms.

Agnes raced over to her cousin, picking up her skirts as she went and flung her arms around her cousin. “I’ve missed you too.”

Her mother followed, giving Clarissa a much more demure and proper greeting.

But Agnes had missed her cousin terribly. They’d been like sisters. Their fathers were brothers, and each having a single daughter, they’d grown up together.

“Have you had a wonderful time exploring Scotland?” Clarissa asked, beaming at them both.

Clarissa’s smile warmed Agnes. It had been fun, but the truth was, it just hadn’t been the same without Clarissa. “It was lovely, but I am so glad to be here with you.” She hugged her cousin again.

To Agnes’s complete surprise, Clarissa’s stomach gave a jolt as they pressed together. Clarissa laughed. “The baby is saying hello.”

Agnes’s eyes rounded. “That was the baby?” Then, despite herself, she dropped to her knees and placed her hands over Clarissa’s belly. Another movement bounced under her hand and Agnes gave a giggle of delight. “Oh, Clarissa,” she gushed. “How marvelous.”

Ewan cleared his throat. “It is. I’ve my hands on her belly every chance I get.”

Agnes stood, realizing she should have waited for a more private moment. As she turned back, she noticed Keiran studying her intently.

“Ainsley and my Aunt Rhona are coming as well,” Clarissa reached for Agnes’s hands as she directed the conversation back to safer ground.

Excitement bubbled in Agnes. Ainsley, while intent upon getting her own way, was also loads of fun. “What about Fiona or Emilia?” They were Clarissa’s other two cousins on her mother’s side.

Clarissa shook her head. “Fiona is also expecting and Emilia is staying with Uncle Haggis. He’d never admit it, but he doesn’t like to be alone.”

“Men rarely do,” her mother chimed in. “What about your parents, Clarissa? Are they coming?”

“Oh, yes.” Clarissa radiated happiness. It was so different from before she’d met Ewan, and Agnes was so pleased to see it. “They should arrive any day now. It will be a house full.”

Agnes gave a sigh. It would be wonderful. She glanced back at Keiran, who was still watching her, and gave a small sigh of relief. At least he would be staying at his own house.

* * *

“Keiran has also agreed to stay here,” Ewan announced to the group. “He’s volunteered to help run the estate while I am aiding Clarissa with the baby.”

Keiran watched Agnes, his chest tight. It was near painful to witness her in almost any situation, but more so in one such as this.

When surrounded by people, it became painfully obvious how much she liked everyone else but him as her face puckered in distaste at Ewan’s announcement.

Her clear blue eyes met his again, and then she looked away quickly, her thick blonde hair, tossing over her shoulder.

He’d not lie, he wanted to bury his hands in that hair and turn her until those raspberry-kissed lips were under his. He’d bet she made the most adorable sounds when she was kissed. He stopped his mind because she was looking at him again. So was Ewan, and one of his friend’s eyebrows lifted near to his hairline.

Keiran realized he was grimacing and forced his face to relax. It was always this way around Agnes. When Ewan had been courting Clarissa, they’d spent a few weeks trapped under the same roof. He’d found her increasingly compelling while she seemed more and more irritated by his presence. Then he’d touched her at the inn. The memory was burned into his mind and he’d replayed it over and over these long months.

She beamed another smile at Clarissa and Keiran gritted his teeth even while he rearranged the rest of his face into a mask of calm.

He had to stop thinking about her like this. First, because it was painfully obviously she didn’t fancy him—with one notable exception, that is. That night at the inn, she wanted his kiss.

But more importantly because Agnes was as innocent as they came. He was too dark to ever be with someone like her. The war had changed him. Most likely he’d never marry at all.

Ewan wrapped his arm around his wife again, looking down at her with such obvious love that Keiran had to look away. He couldn’t explain why, but it made his heart hurt.

Agnes, on the other hand, looked thrilled.

Their trunks were brought in, and then the ladies were all escorted upstairs, Clarissa going with them. Keiran watched the sway of Agne’s delicious hips as she worked her way toward the second floor. She didn’t glance back at him again, which both relieved and annoyed him.

It did leave him free to admire her backside as it disappeared from sight.

“Ye look like a wolf after the sheep,” Ewan mumbled.

Keiran held back a near bitter laugh. “I am the wolf,” he replied. “And Agnes is most definitely a lone sheep. Easy pickings.”

Ewan did not immediately respond, and Keiran finally ripped his gaze from Agnes to look at the man next to him. His best friend. Who was deeply scowling. “Ye’ll behave with Agnes.”

Of course he would. Agnes was a woman that a man married. “Ye don’t have to worry. I ken who Agnes is, and I ken who I am.”

Ewan gave a nod. “Have ye considered courting—”

“No,” Keiran bit back sharply. “If ye’ll excuse me, I’m goin’ to check on yer actual sheep.”

He didn’t wait for Ewan’s reply as he stomped outside. He shouldn’t have agreed to be here. It had been a mistake, one he couldn’t undo now. But to be with Agnes like this again…

Ewan had made great progress on his lands, though he was still short-staffed. His gamekeeper was ancient, and Ewan was without a shepherd. It meant Ewan himself had been working long hours, but with the baby on the way… Keiran sighed. He’d had to help his friend.

He rounded the barn and headed toward the fields. He was still in formal clothing and really should have changed before he’d come out, but he’d been eager to escape the house.

As he entered the fields, he caught sight of the sheep clustered together at the other end. It was strange because this time of year they had plenty of grass in this lower field, and rarely left. He decided to walk the perimeter to check and make sure the fence was secure.

He did the full circle and found no weak points. What was more, he was calmer, though his Hessians had likely been ruined. He gave a sigh; he’d bought them in London and was rather fond of them. He’d have a devil of a time replacing them. As he looked up from his mud-covered shoes, he caught sight of none other than Agnes coming toward him.

Everything in him clenched as she rounded the barn and made her way to the lower field. He stood, waiting for her, legs splayed apart, arms crossed over his chest. What was she doing here?

“Keiran,” she called out. He should never have told her to use his given name. It did funny things to his insides.

“Agnes,” he replied. “What are ye doin’ out here?”

She shrugged as she approached. “After hours in the carriage, it feels good to walk a bit.” Then clearing her throat, she looked him in the eye. “And I owe you an apology.”

That surprised him. He stepped closer then, and caught a whiff of her scent as he moved in closer. He’d know the scent of her anywhere. She smelled of cookies at Christmastide, sweet and homey and it made him long for things a man like him shouldn’t. “Fer what?”

“I wasn’t myself that night in the inn. I didn’t mean to try and—” Her already pink cheeks flamed, and he bit back his grin. He’d refused to leave the room that night. He’d didn’t like sleeping with strangers. After the war, he couldn’t abide having men he didn’t know ‘round him when he slept. And deep in his heart, though he didn’t like to admit it, he wanted to keep her safe. If he’d left her alone, she’d be vulnerable.

“Oh, ye mean when ye tried to kiss me.” It had taken every ounce of his will to hold her at bay that night. Because if he’d allowed her to do it, he feared he wouldn’t have been able to stop. Everything about her tempted him, called to him. He knew once they touched like that, it would be infinitely harder to hold himself back. He hadn’t slept at all that night, as he listened to her breathing as she finally fell asleep. In his mind, he thought of what it might be like to hear her every night, tucked against his side. She was a bloody siren.

She huffed a breath. “Ye don’t have to say it like that. I’m embarrassed enough.”

“How should I say it then?” he asked, stepping closer to her. He didn’t intend to, but she pulled at him whenever she was near.

“Like a gentleman.” She made a face at him, wrinkling her nose adorably.

But he used it as an excuse to get closer still. “Tell me, how would a gentleman say it?”

“He wouldn’t say it at all.” Her hands came to her hips then. “And…he would have slept in the common room.”

Keiran shook his head. He was close enough to touch her now. He should have slept in the common room, but it filled him with a dread he couldn’t describe. Not to her. He’d tried to be a gentleman by keeping his hands to himself. Not that that would keep them from marrying if anyone found out. Thankfully, Ewan and Clarissa had kept their secret, especially because they were the cause of it to begin with. “I’m sorry, lass. Ye’re right, I’m no gentleman.”

She blinked then, biting her lip in the most adorable way. “Oh.” She paused. “Well, I wasn’t very ladylike, and for that—”

“I’ll have to disagree. Ye’re more of a lady than anyone I ken.” And then he turned and walked away. Because if he’d stayed, he’d lose all his resolve and kiss her for sure.

Chapter Two

Agnes stared at him, trying to ascertain what had just happened. While she was sure he’d actually been insulting her, much as she searched her mind, she couldn’t figure out what the insult might have been. It had sounded like a compliment. But then why had he walked away?

As she stood, attempting to puzzle it out, a shot rent the air and the sheep bayed out a cry as they scattered. In a moment, Keiran was at her side, his arms around her, as he dropped them both to the ground. Frightened as she was, she couldn’t help but note the strength of his arms, the hardness of his chest as she buried her face against it, or the comfort his presence brought. “Don’t move,” he rasped out, his body covering hers.

She gave a tiny nod against his coat and then lay perfectly still waiting for what came next. But nothing happened.

The stillness was in such stark contrast to all the noise of moments before that it filled her with a different sort of dread. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point she gripped his waist with her hands. “Keiran,” she whispered as softly as she could. She didn’t want to disrupt his concentration, but she was frightened.

One of his hands slid underneath her back, and he held her tight against him, rolling them to the side. “It’s all right,” he murmured back. She looked up to see him scanning the horizon. “In just a moment, we’re going to stand. Stay crouched as low as you can, and we’ll head to the barn. I’ll be right behind ye.”

She searched his face trying to decide why he wouldn’t be with her. “Not next to me?”

His other hand stroked her cheek. “I’ll be right behind ye. It’s the best position to keep ye safe. When we reach the barn, ye go inside and ye hide. Don’t come out until I say it’s clear. Do ye understand?”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice trembling with fear.

Cupping her cheek in his large, callused hand, he tilted her chin up to his. “Ye’re beautiful, Agnes. Smart and kind. Ye bring life and happiness wit’ ye everywhere ye go.”

Agnes blinked up at him, trying to process the words in the situation. Her fear replaced with confusion then warmth. “I don’t know what to—”

She never got the chance to finish. His lips on hers stopped her words cold. He was kissing her. He’d sworn he wouldn’t the last time they’d been alone. She gasped as he drew back but then pressed down on her mouth again. Tendrils of heat sparked all along her skin at the touch, and she gripped his waist harder.

Then he was gone. Agnes blinked, trying to keep up with him, but before she could ask anything or even think a thought, he was pulling her to stand and then pushing her ahead of him. Her legs felt as though lead weights were attached, but she forced her legs to work, running until she reached the barn.

A single glance back showed Keiran right behind her, as he said he would be. “Into the barn,” he called, pointing toward the entrance. She slipped inside and then hid herself in the tack room as Keiran had instructed.

Her heart beat wildly, fear causing her to shiver. But as the minutes passed, the memory of his lips on hers replayed in her mind. Why had he kissed her? She pushed the thought away. It was for later. Right now, she needed to know he was safe.

It seemed she was hidden for an eternity before she heard Keiran call, “You can come out now.”

It was without thought she launched herself from her hiding place, out the door and into his arms. “Is everything all right?”

Catching her up easily, he held her close, his arms wrapping around her, one of his hands tangling up in her hair. “It’s fine. Poacher is all. There was a trail of blood from the field that leads into the woods. I’ll get Ewan and follow as soon as I get you safely tucked back into the house.”

Keiran unwound his arms from around her and she immediately missed his heat. The feel of his hard edges against her softer ones. Now that she knew he was safe, she wanted to ask him why he had kissed her this time, but she didn’t dare.

Then, he was taking her hand, pulling her from the barn and leading her back to the house, never letting go. He burst through the front doors, and bellowed out for Ewan. Agnes started, it was loud, just a touch obnoxious, and for some strange reason, exciting.

The entryway had been empty, void of people, but as Keiran yelled again, it was as though floodgates opened.

Her mother, Ewan, and several servants came bustling to greet them as Keiran pushed her toward her mother. “Poachers in the lower field. We have to hurry if we have a hope of catching them.”

Ewan gave them both a long look before he called for his gun and the two men headed back out the door. Agnes tried not to look guilty but it was as though Ewan had seen into her very mind and knew that they had kissed. A blush heated her cheeks.

“What the devil is going on?” her mother asked as soon as the room had cleared out.

Agnes shrugged, trying to get herself back under control. She couldn’t very well tell her mother she’d gone to ask why Keiran hadn’t kissed her when they’d been alone in an inn. Or that he had kissed just now. Which was a complete mystery to her. “I wanted to stretch my legs a bit. We were trapped in a carriage for days.”

Her mother harrumphed. “Not likely.” She gave her daughter a long stare. “Do you fancy Laird McKenna?”

Agnes’s cheeks heated once again and she mentally cursed them for giving her away. “Of course not. You know I don’t. He’s a rogue with no discernable qualities that I find attractive in the least.” But that wasn’t entirely true. He’d rescued her and then kissed her in a way that made her tingle in the most exciting way.

One of her mother’s eyebrows quirked. “He’s handsome as the devil. He’s successful, with a large share of profitable lands.”

“So?” Agnes sniffed. “He’s not a gentleman. He wouldn’t make a proper husband. After Papa, we need a man who will put our wellbeing first. Did you hear the way he was yelling and carrying on?”

Her mother cleared her throat. “It’s hard to argue with that. Although your father always seemed agreeable, and one might have mistook him for the perfect husband. But you and I know different, Agnes. The happy mask he wore hid his nefarious activities.”

Agnes reached for her mother’s hand. Her father had a penchant for gambling. It gave her a niggle of a doubt because, while it was considered a gentleman’s pursuit, it had left her and her mother impoverished when he’d died. Debt collectors had taken everything. If not for her uncle, Clarissa’s father, who knew what might have happened to them.

Agnes grimaced. She’d have to keep that in mind. It was more than just manners that made a true gentleman. But Keiran had already proven he wouldn’t always take care of her when she was in need. While he’d been there today, there were too many occasions he hadn’t helped her when she’d needed it most. Just like her father. “Remember when our carriage wheel broke? He didn’t help us. We need a man who will make sure we’re safe, provided for.”

“I’m sure you’re right, darling. But then again, there might be a perfectly good explanation. Be careful not to judge too quickly.”

She blinked several times, trying to decide how to respond. Did her mother favor Keiran’s suit? Was he even interested in courting her? She doubted it. He’d been rather explicit about not wanting to marry. But if he did favor her, would she want him to?

“Come on, dear. That’s enough excitement for one day,” her mother ushered her upstairs and Agnes allowed her to do it. It would take her longer than she cared to admit to clear the memory of Keiran’s strong lips pressed against her own. Closing her eyes, she remembered the feel.

In fact, it proved near impossible. She should forget all about it. She needed to marry a man who would care for her, would do the right thing by her. But somehow, the only thing she could think about was Keiran. And so, after an hour in her room, she gave up and made her way down the hall, hoping to find Clarissa.

It didn’t take long as she followed the bustling maids, who led her straight to Clarissa’s door. Knocking softly, Clarissa called, “Come in.”

“Am I disturbing your sleep?” Agnes peeked her head through the door.

Clarissa rolled her eyes and smiled. “Not at all. Ewan wants me to rest in the afternoon so as not to become overset, but it drives me mad. Come keep me company.”

Agnes happily entered the room and closed the door behind her. Clarissa, propped up on the bed, waved her over. “Sit with me. Tell me what happened today. The maids are all atwitter about something.”

“Poachers in the lower field. Or one at least. That’s what Keiran says, anyhow. There was a gunshot while I was walking.” Agnes sighed, crossing the room. As she sank down on the bed, Clarissa winced. “Are you all right?”

“It’s just my back. It twinges terribly.” Clarissa tried to stretch, but with her belly as large as it was, it only made her look more uncomfortable.

“Roll over, I’ll massage it for you while we talk.” Agnes pushed her cousin gently to the side and began to knead the small of Clarissa’s back.

“Oh, that feels marvelous,” Clarissa groaned. “It’s been so tense with the pregnancy, and honestly, I am worried about my parents. They were due to arrive a few days ago. I’m sure it’s nothing, but…”

Agnes bit her lip. She was worried too. Her uncle had been exceptionally kind to them, and she thought of him as a second father. In many ways, he was more of a father figure than her actual father had been, and after her father’s death, her uncle had supported them. “I’m worried too, but I’m sure you’re right. You know your father. He likely got involved with some business that couldn’t wait.”

Clarissa nodded, but Agnes could still see the lines of worry around her face. “Now tell me what you were doing out with Keiran that you were party to poachers.”

Agnes cleared her throat. “I didn’t say I was out with Keiran.”

Clarissa gave her a knowing look over her shoulder. “You can tell me, remember? You were there for my less-than-proper courtship.”

Clarissa stifled a giggle at some of the memories of Clarissa and Ewan. If there was one person she could be honest with, it was Clarissa. “Well, it started at the inn. He wouldn’t sleep in the common room, and we were stuck together.”

She heard Clarissa groan. “I’m sorry I put you in that position.”

“It doesn’t matter now. No one discovered us, and he slept on the floor.”

Clarissa gave a nod. “I’m glad to hear it, though I’m not surprised. Keiran is a good man—”

“If he is so good, then why did he refuse to go to the common room?” Her voice rose with indignation.

Clarissa was quiet for a few moments before answering, “War does strange things to men. Ewan doesn’t like the sound of thunder, not after hearing the cannons.”

“What does that have to do with Keiran?” Agnes knew he’d been with Ewan when he’d served in the Anglo-Indian war.

“I honestly don’t know. I only bring it up because he mentioned something to Ewan, and I overheard it. That he didn’t like sleeping with all those men…”

Agnes pondered that as she continued to rub Clarissa’s back. “Mayhap someday I’ll be able to ask him.” She sighed again. “But it was a tense night, and I went to find him today to clear the air between us. That was when the poacher came and fired nearby.”

“And what did Keiran do?” Clarissa asked, looking over her again, her gaze intent upon Agnes.

“He pulled us to the ground. He protected me, and then he…” She paused her face heating. “He kissed me.”

“Did he?” Clarissa tried to sit up but failed. Agnes gently pushed her back into place, biting her lip to keep from laughing. It helped ease her embarrassment.

“I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything.” Agnes resumed rubbing Clarissa’s back. If there was one thing she knew about Keiran, it was that he did not follow the codes of gentlemanly behavior.

“I don’t know about that. I’ve never see Keiran express interest in any woman since I’ve known him.

That startled her. Clarissa must be wrong. Perhaps Keiran kept his conquests quiet. But she thought back to the inn when she’d practically tossed herself in his lap. Why hadn’t he kissed her then? Was she wrong about him? More likely he was simply worried they’d end up married if he had. She worked silently for a while as she turned over in her mind until she heard the distinct sound of Clarissa’s snore.

Gently, she brushed back Clarissa’s hair, and then she quietly got up from the bed and headed to the door. Slipping out, she clicked it softly closed behind her.

Chapter Three

Keiran followed the diminishing trail of blood, glad for the distraction. They were approaching a village, and unless the trail led directly to someone’s door, they were unlikely to find the culprit. But he’d keep going anyway because Ewan was his friend and because he wanted to be anywhere but Iverness Estate.

Ewan had said little, but as they approached the village, he finally loosened his tongue. “Why were ye alone with Agnes?”

“She sought me out,” Keiran stopped walking then, crossing his arms about his chest. He’d known this was coming—expected it—but he still dreaded the conversation. He couldn’t lie to Ewan. The man knew him too well but his feelings on Agnes were not something he wanted to share.

“Why?” Ewan’s eyes narrowed.

Keiran sighed. There was no use but to tell as much of the truth as he could. “She’d be embarrassed if I told ye, and while she doesn’t fancy me a gentleman, and I am inclined to agree with her, I’ll not divulge a lady’s secrets.”

Ewan’s eyes narrowed further until they were near slits. “I ken the two of ye were alone in the inn. Ye didn’t ruin her, did ye?”

“Yer faith in me is underwhelming.” Keiran huffed. “I would never do such a thing.”

Ewan relaxed slightly then began walking again. “If I find out ye have, ye’ll be married within the day.”

Irritation rose in Keiran’s gut. “Ye ken I’m only here ’cause I’m helping you right?” He reached his hand out and swung Ewan around to face him. “Perhaps I should just go home, and then ye won’t have to worry about me at all.”

Ewan’s eyes rose skyward. “Ye’re my brother in arms. Ye’ll not abandon me, no matter how irritated ye are.”

Bloody hell, Ewan was right. He was also correct to worry about Agnes. She was too tempting by far but Keiran was not a man to give into temptation. He’d learned too much about restraint in his life and the consequences for not heading it. “Then trust that I will also do the right thing where Agnes is concerned.”

Ewan relaxed then, cracking a small smile. “Ye expect me to trust ye with a young and beautiful woman who’s constantly poking ye to pay attention to her?”

“She isn’t trying to get my attention, she simply doesn’t like me.”

“Don’t be a fool.” Ewan slapped him on the back. “She traipsed across fields to talk to ye. She dislikes ye so much, she can’t stay away.”

More than any other part of the conversation, that surprised him. But only for a moment. She was attracted to him, he’d known that already. He also was sure she didn’t like him. “I thought ye were just warnin’ me to leave her be. Why are ye tellin’ me she likes me?”

“I said don’t be inappropriate. I don’t think ye should leave her be. I think ye should marry her.” Ewan grinned broader as he found another spot of blood and continued toward the village.

Keiran stopped, his breath sticking in his chest. The thought of being married to Agnes wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It wasn’t as though he didn’t dream of having her close every night but it wasn’t meant to be. “Now who’s bein’ a fool? I can’t marry Agnes.”

“Why not?” Ewan turned and winked. “Is it because she’s English? Trust me, it matters less than ye think.”

“No, it’s not because she’s English.” Keiran growled.

“Why then?” Ewan started walking again, searching for the next sign.

“Have ye met her? She sparkles with life and enthusiasm. She’s like a diamond among women.” Keiran followed along behind Ewan trying to sort out his feelings.

“Ye’re right, that’s truly awful.”

Keiran’s irritation made him grunt. “I’m tired and worn. What would I do with a woman like that?”

Ewan stopped then. “Ye’d live again. She’d fill ye with a hope and life ye haven’t felt in a long time and then, when ye think it can’t get any better, she’ll announce that she’s given ye a wee bairn of yer verra own.”

Keiran held in his sigh. Ewan was confusing his own experience with Keiran’s. Ewan always wanted to marry. Always wanted a family. “I’m happy fer ye.”

“I’m not talkin about me, ye egit. Just try to picture wakin’ up in bed every mornin’ wrapped in a beautiful woman’s arms.” Then Ewan paused. “A woman ye’re married to, not a dalliance. Don’t forget that part. A lass who takes care of ye.”

Keiran moved ahead. He didn’t want to discuss this anymore. Because he could see it. Agnes’s blonde hair streaming over his chest as she used him like a pillow. Her arms wrapped around his waist like they’d been today. Her lips pressed to his.

It was dangerous to wish for. Ewan was wrong about Agnes wanting him. Her pride was hurt because he’d refused her curiosity back at the inn. She’d likely never been alone with a man and couldn’t resist the urge to try, but she didn’t want him.

Bloody hell, he wanted her. The woman was innocent sin all wrapped up in a pretty package. And the kiss he’d given her only made him ache the more. He shouldn’t have done it. Kissed her today, that was. He hadn’t meant to, but she had looked up at him, frightened and holding him like he was her protector. It had touched something deep inside of him.

He shook off the thoughts, searching the ground for another spot of blood. The trail was getting thin. The village lay up ahead. “I can’t find any more blood.” He called back to Ewan.

“Damnation, I can’t afford to be losing my animals. I’ve barely got the estate up and running.” Ewan tossed his hat on the ground.

Keiran grimaced. Ewan’s estate had been ravaged while they’d been away, unlike his own. His was tucked farther from towns, and his staff had remained intact. It was taking every coin Ewan could scrape together to make it profitable again. He would have given Ewan money, but the man would never take it. He understood. But Keiran could help him now. “We’ll figure out who did this.”

Ewan sighed, shoving his hat back on his head. “If ye can’t find any more blood, we’ll head back. I dunnae like leaving Clarissa alone.”

“I’m sure she’s fine—” Keiran started, but Ewan waved him off.

“I ken she is. If she weren’t, Agnes would care for her. That woman has a good heart. But I don’t like being away from her.” Ewan rubbed his forehead. “What she’s going through fer me, fer our family…”

Keiran swallowed, not knowing what to say. They made their way back in silence, and as they entered the foyer of the estate, Ewan started up the stairs. “I’m going to check on Clarissa. Follow me, and then we can discuss what measures I can take to better protect the animals.”

Keiran nodded and joined him on the stairs. “I ken ye can’t hire more staff. Maybe ye could borrow my shepherd to watch the flock. His dogs are well trained, and—”

“I can’t take anymore from ye than I already have.” Ewan grimaced. “I have to hire someone soon.”

Keiran bit his tongue that the gamekeeper also needed to be replaced. Before the sheep had started being poached it had been the deer. If the man kept the herds of deer better tended, then poachers wouldn’t be drawn in the first place. “I’ll head to the village tomorrow and see if I can’t ask some questions to find out who might be poaching. I can also start looking for two youngsters to train for both jobs.”

Ewan gave a grunt of approval. “Good idea. Not only could I retain them for a while, but they’d be less expensive at the start.”

They rounded the corner to Ewan’s suite of rooms to find Agnes softly closing the door.

Ewan cleared his throat, and she looked up, giving her cousin-in-law a smile that held such warmth, Keiran felt a prickle of jealousy.

“Is everything all right?” Ewan asked, tensing as he stepped toward Agnes.

“It’s fine. Her back was sore, so I massaged it until she fell asleep.” Agnes’s voice was soothing, like warm honey.

“Thank ye, lass.” Ewan patted her arm.

“Any luck with the poacher?” She searched Ewan’s face first, then Keiran’s. His chest tightened as she pointed those luminous blue eyes in his direction.

“We’ll keep at it,” Keiran replied.

She stepped up to him, her hands clasped together as she did. “Thank you, Keiran, for what you did for me today.”

Then she reached her hand out and clasped his. She’d never done anything like it before and warmth spread throughout him at the light touch. “It was nothing.”

“It was something to me.” Her hand dropped suddenly, and she gave a little cry. “Your boots!”

He sighed, hoping that everyone thought he was responding to the state of his boots and not the loss of her touch. “I’ll clean them up the best I can.”

“Give them to me,” she frowned, assessing them. “I was always quite good at polishing my father’s.”

Had she gone daft? But somehow, it made him warm deep in his stomach to think of her doing such a thing for him. “Clean my boots?”

She gave him one of those smiles. The kind that lit her face, the kind that made him want to pull her close. “It’s the least I can do. Please let me help you.” And then she held out her hand.

And so, right there, in the hall, he took off his boots and handed them to her.

“I’ll have them back to you tomorrow.” She beamed at him with another glowing smile.

He gave a nod. “If ye’ll excuse me, I just need to go get new shoes.” And then he padded off down the hall in his stocking feet. He tried not to think about how pretty that smile was or how nice it was that it had been directed at him. His room was in the west wing of the house, which was a fair distance for a man to walk without the benefit of boots, but he hadn’t made it more than a minute before he felt someone behind him.

Turning, Agnes was once again behind him. Maybe there was some merit to what Ewan said after all about her seeking out his company. Not that it mattered to him. Well, he didn’t mind it, anyhow. If he were honest, he quite liked it even if he shouldn’t. Agnes wasn’t meant for him. That thought deflated some of the warm feeling bubbling inside of him. He had to remember Agnes was a woman that a man married, and he had no intention of being that man.

“What are ye doin?” he asked her, trying to sound harsh.

She sashayed next to him, still carrying his boots. “I couldn’t just leave with you. Ewan would never approve.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Keiran answered with as much vitriol as he could muster.

Agnes ignored it. “I went out to the field today to ask you questions that never got answered, and now, honestly, I only have more questions.”

“The curiosity of women,” he grumbled, feeling a niggle of discomfort. He didn’t want to explain his feelings about her or himself. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

“I beg to differ. Why didn’t ye kiss me in the inn and why did ye kiss me outside?” she asked.

Bloody bullocks, couldn’t she have asked one or the other? “Agnes,” he ground out. “It was bad enough we were in a room together.”

“Why were we in a room together?” she fired back.

He sighed. Women were an infernal bother. With their questions and their beautiful, bright eyes and lips that were so soft and inviting under his. Agnes would be the death of him. “I’m even more sorry about that now than I was before. I don’t like sleepin’ with strangers. It makes me think of the war and all the nights I spent afraid—”

He stopped. He was saying too much. But she’d understood, and he heard her soft intake of breath. “Oh, Keiran. Why didn’t you just tell me that at the inn? I would have understood.” Then her hand was in his again. “I’m sorry I said you weren’t a gentleman.”

“I’m not,” he tugged his hand free and started down the hall again. Her understanding only made his feelings more muddled.

But she scurried to catch up and then continued next to him. “Why did you kiss me outside?”

“Are ye always this persistent?” he asked.

“I’m afraid so. It drives my mother mad. But if you don’t ask, then you likely won’t know.” She gave him another glowing smile. “Does it bother you?”

“Right now, yes,” he answered, but he actually wasn’t so sure. Part of him liked that she wanted to understand him. And she was right; he might never volunteer information if she didn’t ask for it. Something inside felt a little lighter for having shared with her. He slowed his pace and turned to look at her.

“I apologize.” She stopped then. “I don’t want you to misunderstand. I don’t expect you to court me. By that, I mean I’m not trying to ask anything of you. I just don’t understand men all that well, and I’d like to. How else will I marry?”

That irritated him. More than her questions, though he’d pretended to find those bothersome. He’d be damned if he helped her prepare for a future with another man. He’d suspected as much at the inn, but to hear her say it. “I kissed ye because we were pressed together. I would have kissed any woman I held like that. In fact, I’ve kissed hundreds.”

Her face paled and hurt filled her eyes. “I see.” She cleared her throat. “I should go.”

“Aye.” He hated that wounded look. Part of him wanted to take it back, but it was too late and pushing her away was the right thing to do. “Ye should.”

Chapter Four

The next morning, Agnes made her way downstairs for breakfast carrying Keiran’s boots, though she’d contemplated tossing them into the ocean several times as she’d cleaned them. It would serve Keiran right. She’d known since the moment she’d met Keiran that he was no gentleman, but she’d allowed his rescue, the kiss, and Clarissa’s words to lull her into thinking she might have been wrong.

Of course, she wanted to be wrong. Because her mother was right about him being as handsome as the devil. And then he’d gone and protected her…

She sighed to herself. It had been a mistake to ignore her intuition. From now on, she would stay far away from Keiran McKenna.

With new purpose, she walked toward the main stairs to make her way to the breakfast room when voices caught her attention.

A woman’s clear laugh carried up the stairs. She’d recognize the sound anywhere. Clarissa’s Aunt Rhona and cousin, Ainsley, had arrived.

Agnes rushed to greet them. She and Ainsley were both eighteen and nearing their nineteenth birthdays. They’d made fast friends when Agnes had visited Ravenscraig Castle, and she was excited to see her friend again.

But the sight of Ainsley stopped her dead in her tracks. More specifically the sight of Ainsley with her hand placed in Keiran’s elbow. Her gregarious cousin-in-law was tucked snugly against his side while she smiled up at him. It made Agnes’s blood run cold.

Keiran spotted her first. He glanced away from Ainsley and, as though he sensed her, looked directly at Agnes.

Swallowing, she dragged herself forward, to greet all of them. Why should it matter that Ainsley was flirting with Keiran? She’d sworn to stay away from him moments before.

“Agnes,” Ainsley cried, stepping away from Keiran and rushing to her side. Agnes’s chest relaxed as she gave Ainsley an awkward hug while still holding the boots.

Keiran walked up next to them and bile rose in her throat again. Could he not stand to be parted from Ainsley for even a moment?

“I’ll take those.” The rumble of his deep voice reverberated through her.

Ainsley stepped back and Keiran reached between them to grab the Hessians. Agnes let them go, and his eyes lit with surprise.

“Lass, these look fantastic. Like new again!” He inspected the boots.

Ainsley sniffed. “I’d ask where you learned to polish boots, but I keep forgetting you’re not of the nobility.”

“Ainsley,” Aunt Rhona chastised.

A blush climbed Agnes’s cheeks. She’d forgotten Ainsley needed to be the center of attention. It didn’t usually bother her but in front of Keiran, somehow, it annoyed her to no end.

Keiran clucked his tongue. “There is pride and honor in work well done.” Then he turned back to her. “Thank ye, lass.”

She nodded, satisfaction making her smile at him. It didn’t make up for what he’d said yesterday, how insignificant he’d made her feel but it did soothe her a bit.

Ainsley returned to her mother, looking rather put out. Agnes followed to greet Aunt Rhona, as the other woman had insisted she call her. But the reunion wasn’t as exciting as Agnes thought it would be. Somehow, the thought of Ainsley pursuing Keiran had Agnes feeling out of sorts. Ainsley was right. Agnes was English and not of the nobility. Someone like Ainsley was far better suited to Keiran.

Not that she cared. Because she didn’t. He wasn’t the proper man for her at all.

Everyone moved to the breakfast room except Keiran, who disappeared to put away his boots, Agnes guessed.

When he returned wearing them, another blush—this one of satisfaction—rose in her cheeks. She looked away quickly, not wanting him to catch her staring, but she could feel his gaze on her.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to say anything as she ate her breakfast and pretended he wasn’t watching her. Ainsley kept up a steady stream of conversation. “I’m in need of more ribbons,” she announced to the group then clapped her hands, looking directly at Keiran. “We should take a ride to the village today.” She beamed at him. “Agnes can come with us.”

Keiran shook his head. “I’ve work to do—”

But Ewan interrupted. “It’s a marvelous idea.” Then he gave Keiran a pointed look. Leaning over, Agnes heard him whisper. “Help me play host.”

Keiran’s return glance might have killed a weaker man. At least he wasn’t excited to spend time with Ainsley. It was some consolation.

But he didn’t seem thrilled to be with her either.

Then she chastised herself. She didn’t want him to be. What was wrong with her today?

But it was settled and an hour later as they were making their way to the village. Agnes had been a decent horsewoman before, but her time in Scotland had improved her skills greatly.

Still, she had a difficult time keeping up with Ainsley and Keiran, try as she might. It irritated her to no end, though she told herself it was just because she didn’t like being left out. It certainly had nothing to with the fact that Ainsley and Keiran looked so natural riding side by side.

The two chatted as they rode. At least Ainsley did. Ainsley’s voice drifted back to her. “And then there was a brawl over who would sit next to me, can ye believe it?”

Agnes tried not to become downtrodden. Why should she care if they were suited to one another?

Finally, they reached the village, and Ainsley dragged them through the ribbon shop and a dressmaker’s. Agnes wanted to yawn with boredom as Ainsley then pointed at the chemist’s shop. As she passed by an adorable cottage, in front of it, a young woman pulled a baby’s cradle into the lane. She looked too young to be married, let alone old enough to be done with a cradle, but she was clearly getting rid of it.

“Excuse me,” she called, quickening her pace toward the woman. “Are you disposing of this cradle?”

“I am,” the girl beamed, looking both excited and relieved. “I’ve no need of it, and I was hoping to bring it to the market to find a buyer.”

“I’ll purchase it from you if you’d be so inclined,” Agnes grinned. It had been well-worn, but she was sure she could make it shine like new.

The woman returned her grin, happiness lighting her eyes. “That would be wonderful. It was my sister’s. With my parents gone, we could use the funds…”

“That’s enough,” a man barked from the doorway. “They don’t need to hear about our problems.”

A chill ran down Agnes’s spine. His voice was harsh, and their situation sounded as though it might be dire.

The girl cleared her throat. “I’ve a lovely canopy that can be hung from it if ye’d like to buy that as well.”

“Oh, I would,” Agnes exclaimed, trying to push aside her ill feelings. The girl rushed inside to get it, and Agnes took a deep breath.

Keiran came up next to her. “What’s this?” he asked.

For whatever reason, Keiran’s presence made her feel so much better. She told herself that anyone would have eased her worry, but somehow she trusted Keiran with her safety. He’d protect her now no matter what happened. It was a realization that made her breath catch as she looked at man standing by her side.

“Clarissa doesn’t have one yet. I thought I could clean and polish this one for next to her bed. I doubt they’ll hire a wet nurse.” Agnes touched the spindles on the side, thinking of the sweet babies who had lain in it before.

“It’s a good idea.” He grunted, his voice a little rough, but his face was soft. As he touched the cradle too, he moved in close to her, and she could feel the heat of his body, his breath tickling her cheek. Her heart pounded. She desperately wanted to look back into his eyes, to see what he was thinking, but she didn’t dare. It was too intimate.

The girl came back out. “Here is the canopy and a blanket.” She handed the folded pieces to Agnes. “May the cradle bring ye both good fortune with yer bairns.”

Agnes made to correct her. To say it was for her cousin and not her and Keiran. But a young man had stepped from the house too. His gaze piercing into them both in a way that made her clutch her hands together.

“Let them move on,” he commanded again, and Agnes knew this was who had chastised the girl before. He was younger than she expected, but there was a hardness about him and a rough look in his eyes that spoke of hard times or a hard man.

Keiran noticed too and he straightened, putting his arm around her as he assessed the young man. Slowly, he answered, “I’ll be back to pick it up this afternoon.”

Agnes blushed for at least the third time that morning. He was going to let this woman think they were married and having a baby. Something inside her melted at the thought. She warmed and ached. It was so strange because she should have worried about the odd look of the other fellow, but she felt so safe with Keiran there.

Ainsley came up behind them. “What are we doing?”

“Getting a cradle,” Kerain answered, but he didn’t move away, nor did he take his gaze off the other man. In fact, his hand tightened at her waist. She was so glad he was there, protecting her, but the fact that he was clearly worried deepened her own.

She paid the woman, acutely aware of Keiran’s touch and the eyes of the other man. She wanted to ask who he was, but she didn’t dare. So instead she carefully wrapped up the linens. Her fingers trembled as she worked, but Keiran didn’t back up, for which she was grateful. Though she had the urge to bury her face in his shoulder. As the young man took two steps closer to them, Keiran tucked her slightly behind his body.

“What will ye do with those?” Ainsley tried again, looking from one person to the other. Agnes didn’t blame her. There was something in the air, like before a storm. It crackled with a feeling she couldn’t name.

She cleared her throat. “I’ll wash and repair them, if they need it.” She gave the young woman a forced smile. “Thank you.”

A baby cried from within the house, and the young man stepped inside. Agnes let out a sigh of relief as the girl followed.

Keiran finally removed his hand from her waist and grabbed the cradle to tuck it to the side of the lane so it wasn’t in the way until he could return for it. “It’s a fine idea, buying them a cradle.”

Ainsley shrugged. “We could have purchased a new one.”

Agnes swallowed. “You’re likely right, but I like tinkering with things. It keeps me busy.”

“No shame in that,” Keiran replied. “Let’s head back. I’ll have to return with a carriage.”

Agnes nodded, groaning to herself at the thought of the horse ride back. She missed his heat, the feel of his hands. She wished she could ride with him.

She wished she could stop thinking such thoughts, but he was tempting if nothing else. She supposed that was the appeal of a rogue.

They made their way back to the public barn and collected their horses. The groom at the stable helped Ainsley mount while Keiran approached to aid her.

Agnes very carefully tucked the blankets into her saddle bag as he reached her side. “Thank you,” she gave him a smile as he threaded his fingers for her to step in.

“Ye’re welcome, lass.” As her hands came to his shoulders the heat once again curled in her belly. This time, she couldn’t blame unease like she had at the little cottage. It was Keiran causing these feelings. She said a silent prayer to get her body under control.

Which was likely why she failed to see the mouse as it skittered past her mount. As her horse bucked, she was nearly unseated. Clutching at the reins, she tried to hang on, but she was falling and she braced herself for impact.

Strong hands caught her as she did, Keiran pulling her against his body. Her arms wrapped around his neck even as her mare took off at a gallop back toward the woods and likely the estate.

He held her close again. His breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “Are ye hurt, lass?”

“No, only frightened.” She swallowed. “I’ll have to rent a mount, I suppose, but I spent my pin money on the cradle.”

“Ye’ll ride back with me,” he said as his hands tightened around her waist.

She pulled back to look at him then, but their embrace was so intimate, any thoughts of what she was about to say flew from her head. All she could do was stare at his lips, praying he’d kiss her again.

Hadn’t she just been praying for something else? But she couldn’t think of what it was as he mounted his horse all the while holding her close. His strength surprised her, as did the feel of his thighs and something else entirely as he settled her on his lap.

Her legs hung off to one side and her arms were slipped around his neck. One of his hands grabbed the reins, the other rested on her hip.

It made her shiver in the best way. “I didn’t know you were so strong,” she said before she could think it through.

He gave a small chuckle. “It’s the only upside to pushing cannons.”

She tilted her head back then. “Was it awful?”

He kicked the horse forward, Ainsley falling in step next to him. “Thank ye for askin’. Most of it was, some of it wasn’t.” He cleared his throat. “Ewan is my brother now, and will be for life after what we went through.”

“Tell me about the bad parts.” Clarissa had told her she should ask. It seemed as good a time as any. Actually, it seemed like the best time to ask. There was an intimacy to their touch and comfort she could provide. And honestly, she needed the distraction from the butterflies flitting around in her stomach. The feel of his body against hers was making her flush with heat.

And Keiran had now saved her twice.

While he clearly said what was on his mind, good or bad, he also protected her when she needed it. And wasn’t that the real reason she’d wanted to marry a gentleman to begin with? She needed a man who would keep them safe and not expose them to the cruelties of the world.

“I dunnae think I should.” He looked at her then, and she could see the pain. The ache that made her hurt more deeply than she thought possible.

Her arms tightened around his neck as her voice dropped so Ainsley couldn’t hear. “Why didn’t you want to sleep in the common room at the inn? I know it was because of the war but was it something specific or just a general feeling of unease?”

She heard him swallow, she was sure of it. “I was attacked in my sleep. A fellow soldier tried to steal my grandfather’s pocket watch, but he near took my life too. If I hadn’t woken up in time he would have.”

Foolish, foolish girl, she chanted to herself. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Don’t say that, Agnes,” he answered quickly. “I don’t want yer pity or yer comfort. I’m not the man fer ye. Don’t forget it.”

Chapter Five

Keiran’s teeth had been gritted since he’d left the estate. First because Ainsley was irritating the hell out of him with her incessant chatter. And Agnes, she was tempting him beyond what a man could take. Her lovely curves were pressed against him as her arms were threaded around his neck. And damn it all to hell if she wasn’t so sweet and understanding that it made a man ache.

He could lose himself in her. He wondered, for a moment, what he’d return as if he did. Would it be better? Somehow, he had a feeling it would. The real question was, what would it do to her? Sweet innocent Agnes did not deserve to know how deep the world could cut. He knew he’d hurt her but it was nothing compared to the darkness he held inside.

As her delightful scent wrapped around him, he was losing his ability to think clearly. To reason out all the carefully constructed reasons why he should stay away from her.

Iverness Estate loomed ahead of them, and Keiran breathed a sigh of relief. If Agnes were on this horse any longer, he’d likely keep riding. Take her with him to his own home and straight to his bed.

He felt his manhood twitch. He’d been trying to keep the thoughts at bay, but her curves were pressing into him in the most delightful way. He looked down at her and knew she felt it too, as her eyes rounded.

She didn’t, however, shy away as he’d expected she might. Instead, he felt her undulate her hips against him. He grew harder and his breath seized in his chest. Ainsley had started prattling again, though he barely noticed now.

He tightened his hand on Agnes’s hip. He’d meant to hold her still, but instead pressed her closer. She made the tiniest sound of enjoyment, somewhere between a coo and a mewl. That small sound set him to blaze.

“Agnes,” he gasped roughly, keeping his voice quiet.

She moved again, her hips swirling, pressing, grinding her softness into his hardness. She might be an innocent, but she was no prude. Keiran had the sudden thought that he’d give years of his life to lie with her.

It was a damn good thing he hadn’t known this when they’d been at the inn together. They’d be married now for sure.

They could be married tonight.

He was losing his mind. The press of her hips was making him near mad, and he kicked his horse a little faster, now sure he would bypass Iverness and head straight to Lockeheart, his home.

“There ye are,” Ewan called from the barn.

Bloody hell and damnation, Keiran cursed to himself as Agnes froze on his lap. A look of absolute horror crossing her face.

“We’ll discuss this later,” he managed to mutter before Ewan began racing toward them.

“Agnes’s mare came back without her, we were worried.” Ewan’s voice grew louder with each word.

As Keiran quickly explained, Agnes practically hid her face in his shirt. She was surely embarrassed. And after he doused himself in icy water, he’d tell her why she didn’t need to be.

But right now, if he tried to talk to her, they’d end up galloping off into the sunset.

Ewan helped her down and, even knowing that Ewan was in love with her cousin, he felt a stab of jealousy as he watched Ewan grab her waist, her delicate hands resting on his shoulders.

Taking several deep breaths, he swung himself off the horse as well and then stepped next to Agnes.

He only realized he was glaring when Ewan’s eyebrows rose up. Without meaning to, he’d placed his hand on Agnes’s back. For a moment, he considered dropping it, but that seemed far worse, like he was admitting he’d done something wrong. And besides, he liked touching her.

“How was yer outing in the village?” Ewan asked, giving a benign, knowing smile. Ewan was his best friend, but Keiran would have liked to wipe that smile off his lips.

Ainsley made a face at both of them, her irritation apparent. Ainsley was a woman who liked to be the center of attention. He doubted she had any real feeling for him, she simply wanted to be noticed. While, he didn’t hold it against her, he wasn’t a man to indulge such needs, even if Agnes wasn’t completely distracting him. “It was fine. I thought the village would be bigger.” Then she flounced off toward the house.

“I’ve got to return for a few things they purchased,” Keiran replied without really answering the question Ewan had asked. He couldn’t talk about it. “May I use yer carriage?”

“Of course,” Ewan answered sounding amused. He likely thought it funny that Keiran was now attending ladies’ needs. Let him laugh. He was only doing it for Agnes. It was getting harder to deny her anything. “What did they buy?”

Keiran couldn’t very well tell him, so he continued to glare at his friend.

Agnes cleared her throat. “I bought a new trunk. Mine has become terribly worn form the trip. Keiran is going to retrieve for me.” Keiran raised his brow as he looked over at her. She was a terrible liar. Her voice shook as she said the words.

Ewan’s quizzical look disappeared, and despite Agnes’s poor attempt at covering her tracks, he seemed to accept it. “Of course. Why didn’t ye just say so?” he asked Keiran, slapping him on the back. “I’ll have them bring it ’round.”

Ewan turned to inform the groom that he needed the carriage, leaving Agnes and Keiran alone.

“Ye didn’t have to give him an explanation, lass.” Keiran grumped as soon as Ewan was gone.

She shrugged. “It seemed easier.”

He couldn’t deny her logic. In fact, lots of things seemed easier with Agnes there.

He leaned down to deliver his next words softly for her ears alone. “I’ll put the cradle in the barn so ye can work on it?”

“Perfect.” She glanced up at him to give him a smile of gratitude. “Thank you.”

But with her face tipped up to him like that and his hand on her back, he wanted to do far more than return her smile. He wanted to touch his lips to hers again. He wanted to lay her in the softly undulating grass and then slide her skirt up her legs….

Her scent had been curled around him the entire ride back from the village. So inviting, so much like the home he hadn’t had in years.

He allowed his head to drift toward her, but rather than kiss her, he rested his forehead against hers. “Ye’re welcome.”

A throat cleared to his right. “Agnes, would you like me to escort ye back to the house?” Ewan had that grin again. Like he knew exactly what was happening.

“Yes, please,” she said as she slipped out of Keiran’s grasp.

That feeling returned. The one where he wanted to carry her away and keep her all for himself. “Damnation,” he muttered, but Ewan heard him.

With a wink, the bloody arse put his hand at the small of Agnes’s back as he escorted her to the house.

* * *

Agnes took a deep breath trying clear her mind. Keiran’s proximity all afternoon had her vibrating with a delicious tension. She looked back to see Keiran glaring at them. “I think I just upset Keiran, but I’m not rightly sure how.”

Ewan chuckled patting her back. “Not to worry, lass. It’s me he’s upset with. And I intend to poke him a bit more before I’m done.”

“Poke him about what?” she asked. He couldn’t think that Keiran was jealous? She remembered his hand on her back and the way he’d glared at Ewan. If it were another man, she might think he was, but not Keiran. Mostly because he was always pushing her away.

Ewan seemed to grow more amused. “It will all become clear in time.”

She wanted to ask more about Keiran and what his feelings really were, but before she could, Ewan changed the subject.

“Did I tell ye that I’m giving Clarissa’s parents a plot of land to build a house.” He winked at her. “It was Clarissa’s idea. With her in Scotland, they want to spend more time here. Why not give them a place of their own?”

“It’s a marvelous idea.” Agnes was so glad for her cousin. Clarissa had found a wonderful husband who cared deeply for her happiness and would always care for her. A small twinge made her grimace. She hoped she could find the same.

But rather than think of husbands, she could only see Keiran. He’d kissed her, pressed his forehead to hers, held her close. Then there was the exchange on the back of the horse. Their touch had been…exciting. Did he want to court her? He’d clearly stated that he wouldn’t, yet his touch spoke of something else.

What kind of husband would he be? The one who offered to return and pick up the cradle or the man who refused to sleep in the common room, near ruining her reputation? Though his explanation seemed reasonable enough. She sighed to herself. He was so confusing.

She spent the rest of the afternoon with Clarissa, reading to her, rubbing her back, telling her about her day. She left out many of the details, like the way Keiran had touched her. She didn’t know why, other than she wanted to sort things out in her own mind before she talked to someone else. Her feelings for Keiran were shifting, and she didn’t completely understand why. As she rubbed Clarissa’s back, she fell silent, trying to find clarity. Before long, her cousin fell asleep.

Agnes slipped out of the room to prepare herself for dinner.

She would have denied it if anyone asked, but she took extra care with her appearance. Her dinner dress was a lovely shade of blue that matched her eyes, and she pinned her hair loosely back, allowing a great deal of it to cascade down her over her shoulder.

The candlelight lent a soft glow to the dining room as Agnes entered.

Clarissa had managed to make it downstairs for the meal as well, and she beamed at Agnes, her gaze giving Agnes a sweep. Agnes knew Clarissa had noted the extra care she’d taken to look nice.

“Agnes, ye look lovely,” Ewan called, leaving his wife’s side to draw her into the room.

Agnes blushed, seeking out Keiran with her gaze, but he didn’t look at her as he leaned against the fireplace mantel, his eyes cast down at the flames.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Her mother entered the room just behind her, Aunt Rhona and Ainsley on her heels.

Keiran barely acknowledged their presence, his gaze flicking to them for barely a second as he mumbled, “Good evening.”

Agnes felt her skin prickle in irritation. How rude. The moment she thought he might actually be a gentleman, he seemed to forget his manners entirely. “How was your trip back to the village?” Agnes asked, assessing him, her own irritation rising.

* * *

Kerain allowed himself to look at her then, as she directly asked him a question. Bloody hell, she looked lovely. The candlelight danced off her skin, giving it a glow that made him ache with longing. Actually, he’d been aching all day; it grew more acute each time he saw her. “Fine,” he rasped out, his voice harsher than he’d intended.

The ride back to the village had been easy enough, but once he’d collected the cradle, the ride back to Iverness had been damn painful.

The young man had been gone from the house but his sister, as he’d learned she was, had just apologized over and over for his behavior. Said that the strain of supporting them was taking its toll. He’d nodded politely but didn’t know what else to say.

When he’d finally been able to extricate himself, he’d had to set the cradle on the floor, between the seats, his legs splayed out on either side. As if that weren’t uncomfortable enough, every time he looked down into the thing, all he could picture was Agnes’s gentle hand running along its wood. He imagined the soft look on her face as she’d assessed it, then his mind had really begun to wander.

He’d seen her in his bed looking equally soft, but so much more wanton. He’d pictured her snuggled close against his side, the growing of her belly, and finally, he’d seen a beautiful little baby with blond hair and blue eyes staring up at him. Agnes would pick the child up, hold it tenderly in her arms, and smile at him with all the warmth and love he knew she possessed as she cradled his child close.

It made him ache because it was a dream that would never be a reality. The way she was looking at him now proved it. War had changed him, and he couldn’t be what she needed. Agnes deserved a man who would cherish her, shower her in love and affection, rather than be prone to moody fits of temper like himself. He wouldn’t expose her to the darkness.

Ainsley sidled up next to him and he gritted his teeth. Lovely as she was, the Scottish filly was the furthest thing from his mind. He preferred a woman who was quieter, kind yet strong, giving…he stopped as his gaze wandered to Agnes once again.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Ainsley whispered as she held out her hands to the fire.

Blast it all to hell. Now Ainsley was going to start badgering him too. “Who?”

Ainsley rolled her eyes as she sauntered away.

They moved into the dining room and Keiran was forced to admit, she was lovely. It only soured his mood the more.

By the time they sat down, he wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else.

The conversation started around him, but he ignored it for the most part.

That was, until Agnes chimed in, “We’ll return to England in the spring, won’t we, Mother?”

“Of course, dear. A year in Scotland is quite a long time. Longer than I intended on staying.”

Keiran felt his brows draw together. The only thing worse than sitting there with Agnes was the thought that she would leave and he wouldn’t see her sitting there again. But perhaps it was for the best. Once she was gone, he could go back to his normal life.

“It’s been so wonderful to stay for so long.” She beamed at Clarissa. “But I missed my first season, and I’d like to be back in time to participate this coming year.”

“How sad fer ye.” Keiran sneered across the table, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

She blinked, her gaze turning to him. “I’m not sad. I’ve loved this time. It’s simply that I would like to—”

“It’s just that ye’re ready to get back tae yer life where ye do things fer yerself and don’t have to think of anyone else.” He didn’t know why he was being so mean. Agnes was the least selfish person he knew. But he didn’t dig deeper into his feelings. In fact, something told him he shouldn’t think about it at all because he wouldn’t like the answer. That thought succeeded in intensifying the anger coursing through him.

Several people gasped around the table while Ewan let out a growl. “Keiran.” His deep voice cut through the noise.

He ignored Ewan, his gaze swinging to Agnes. She was so quiet and still, he almost missed the trembling of her bottom lip.

But the tears that welled in her eyes were unmistakable. “I don’t know what I’ve done to give you such a poor impression of me.” Her voice wobbled as she spoke.

Guilt rose like bile in Kerian’s throat but he started this and wouldn’t back down now. It really was best that he push Agnes away. “Ye just are who ye are.”

She stood then, and a single tear slid down her cheek. It may as well have been a knife, the way that little drop cut into his heart. “If wanting a husband and family of my own is selfish, than I suppose I would have to plead guilty.”

Another tear fell, ripping him open. “That’s the only reason ye’d return? Not to stay up late and dance and flirt—”

“Enough,” Ewan’s fist hit the table, causing several of the ladies to gasp again.

But Agnes held up her hand to her cousin-in-law. “It’s all right, Ewan. Keiran can judge me if he wants.” More tears fell down her cheeks, but she stepped around the table, coming to stand next to his chair.

She leaned down, and despite the tears, her jaw was set. “I may seem like a silly English girl who only cares about dancing and parties to you, but you are a crusty rogue. I don’t see how you can accuse me of being selfish. I saw you sit on your horse and leave Ewan to help us alone that day the wheel of our carriage broke.”

“Go ahead, lass,” he stood then, pushing his chair so hard with the motion of his body that it fell to the floor. Dimly, he heard Ewan rise too. “Tell them the other reason you think I’m a rogue. The real one that has nothing to do with a wagon wheel.”

Her cheeks heated and her mouth opened and closed. Of course she couldn’t say it. They’d be married if she did. She stepped closer to him, though, not backing down. And he felt a niggle of pride in her backbone despite the hurt she must be feeling. He pushed that emotion away. Now was not the time.

Her scent wrapped around him as she turned her face up to him, and his chest constricted almost painfully. Even in his anger he wanted to wrap his arms around her and comfort her in her hurt. Her voice was soft and clear as she spoke, notching her chin toward him. “I think the pot is calling the kettle black.” And then with a swish of her skirts, she turned and exited the dining room without another look back.

Keiran was aware that if someone were counting victories, his would have been a glorious defeat. He’d been an arse. Everyone there knew how selflessly sweet Agnes was. He, on the other hand, was guilty of all that she’d accused. What was more, she’d gotten the last word in and then, left.

While he still stood there, with five pairs of accusing eyes staring at him, he picked up his chair and made to follow Agnes. But he hadn’t made five steps into the hall when a hand at his shoulder stopped him.

“If ye were any other man,” Ewan rumbled, “I’d knock ye senseless.”

“Why don’t ye just do it then?” Keiran turned. Fighting was exactly the distraction he needed. It would vent the anger, the passion, and the desperate wanting rising inside of him.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with ye?” Ewan’s voice rose in anger.

Keiran shook his head. “I dunnae ken.”

“Well, figure it out or leave. But we’ll not have an incident like that again. Ye’ll upset Clarissa, and Agnes does nae deserve it.”

Keiran nodded as he made his way to his room. Somehow, he had to find a way to control himself around Agnes. Because whether he was wrapping her in his embrace or yelling at her in front of everyone, what he couldn’t seem to do was leave her be.

Chapter Six

Agnes cried for over an hour before her tears finally dried. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t known Keiran was not a man of honor. Gentleman helped ladies in need and they certainly didn’t yell at them in front of a room of assembled guests.

Knowing what she did about him, she tried and failed to understand why he could hurt her so? Why did she care? She already knew the answer. He was strong, handsome, and he had some moral fiber. He hadn’t touched her at the inn. Agnes and her mother had been making their way in the world without her father for some time. When she was with Keiran, she felt…safe again. In a way she hadn’t in a long time. When he wasn’t berating her that was.

But she did need a man who would cherish her, and that wasn’t Keiran.

With a sigh, she readied herself for bed.

The next morning dawned gray, but the rain held off, and after breakfast, Agnes headed outside to work on the cradle. Collecting up a pail, lye, and a rag, she began by washing the piece down. Then, using a bristle brush, she removed any dirt or debris from the cradle. As she finished, she heard what started as the pitter-patter of rain on the roof.

But it picked up in intensity until it was coming down in near buckets. Agnes sighed. She couldn’t paint with it this wet, and she couldn’t return to the house. She’d have to sit and wait it out.

The barn door creaked open and Keiran came striding into the barn, soaked through. Agnes stood when she saw him, every muscle tensing. Which Keiran might she get today?

His gaze swung to hers and she noted his grimace. Why should he be upset? He’d been the one to be mean to her.

“What are ye doing in here?” Her voice was sharper than she’d intended, but she was angry at him. He’d been a cad at dinner last night and seeing him reminded her of how mean he could be. It also brought out the other feelings she had for him, the tender ones and the heart throbbing need she couldn’t deny. That, in turn, made her even angrier. Why couldn’t she move past that?

He ran his hand through his soaking hair, shedding water as he did so. “I was circling the lower field and the upper one for fresh signs of poachers when the storm came in.”

Agnes swallowed, much of her ire evaporating. In that way, Keiran was so noble. Helping his friend who was in need. “Any luck?” she asked, looking away and sitting back down to continue brushing the dirt from the cradle.

“Nay, and any sign will be lost now.” He walked into the stall where she was working. “A hog is missing though, and I can’t help but wonder if they are related.”

She gave a nod as she turned the cradle over to brush the bottom. There was likely very little dirt there, but her hands needed to be busy now. “It does seem likely.”

“The cradle looks better already.” He cleared his throat.

With a nod, she continued brushing the legs and the bottom without answering. Truth be told, she admired the work he was doing on the estate, but she didn’t want to make small talk with him like nothing had happened.

“Agnes, I am sorry about what I said last night.” He moved closer. “There’s no excuse for it, but I hope ye’ll forgive me.”

“Of course,” she answered automatically, without emotion. He moved away from her then, and she was sure he was leaving, but then she heard the stove swing open as he fed more wood into its belly. Returning to the stall, she noted that he wasn’t wearing his jacket or his shirt. An ache started between her legs as her gaze swept down the broadness of his shoulders and the sculpted muscles of his chest. She gasped. “Where are your clothes?”

He gave a chuckle, but it held little humor. “I suppose this counts as one more time I’ve been less than a gentleman.”

It was Agnes’s turn to look abashed. That hadn’t been a nice thing for her to say either. “I didn’t intend to be so rude—”

“It’s all right.” He waved his hand. ”I deserved it. When it comes to ye, I haven’t been much good. I know it’s not a proper reason, but the war in India began during the monsoon season. I spent weeks soaked to the bone, couldn’t get dry. I’ve wondered if I should leave Scotland because I hate the rain now.”

Agnes bit her lip. That was why he hadn’t gotten off his horse that first day. “You didn’t fix the wheel because of the rain?”

He didn’t look at her, his voice quiet. “It’s not a good reason, I ken. Any man should help a woman in need. I was tired in body, and my wounds, the ones deep in my soul, are still healing.”

Agnes didn’t realize she had stood until she was crossing over to him. She stopped just short of touching him, though part of her wanted to reach up and comfort him. She understood how the past could affect one’s present. Wasn’t she carrying around her own hurts? “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged. “Ye didn’t think much of me anyhow. And it’s not something I admit often. I haven’t even told Ewan…”

“Your secret is safe with me.” She reached for his hand grasping it in her own. It was warm and firm, his skin heating hers. Because she couldn’t be mad anymore, not after he’d laid himself bare.

“I’m sorry too,” she started, but he put up his other hand.

“Don’t be sorry. You’re right. I’m not gentleman enough fer ye.” Keiran stood then. “But as soon as the rain lets up, I’ll cover ye with my coat and get ye inside.”

“Well, that’s very nice of you, Keiran. And you should let me apologize.”

He shook his head. “I wish I could have known ye before I left. Or maybe that I’d never gone at all. But I know I can’t change who I am now.”

Guilt made her wince. He thought he was lacking? Of course he did, likely because she’d made him feel that way. “Why would you want to?” She stepped closer, she lifted her other hand to touch his bare chest. It was a mistake because his skin beneath her fingers felt rough and hard and so right. “I was wrong to judge you that day in the rain.”

He brought his free hand up to tangle in her hair. His voice was gentle. “It’s more than that, Agnes. I wish it weren’t so, but I’m not meant to marry. I don’t want a wife.”

She wanted to refute what he’d said. Nausea was rising in her stomach. His words making her shake her head in denial. “I feel this connection with you. Yesterday on your horse, I know you felt it too.”

He sighed. “I want you, Agnes. There is no point denying it, and there is nothing wrong with passion. Ye need to ken that. But I won’t marry, so it’s best we keep our distance.”

Her heart jumped into her throat. She supposed it would have been worse if he hadn’t admitted that and had taken advantage of her. In that way, he was upstanding. To admit he wanted no part of marriage, however, was just too much. “Oh, I see,” she answered with a blandness she might normally use when discussing the weather. Inside, however, her chest ached and tears pricked at her eyes. She wouldn’t allow him to see her cry again. Not after yesterday.

But she understood clearly now. His past and hers were at odds. She needed a man willing to do whatever it took to heal the wounds her father had left, and Keiran had too many wounds of his own to help with hers.

She let her hand drop as she stepped away. “I can’t paint the cradle with it this wet.” Then she turned and fled out of the barn, running headlong into the rain.

* * *

Keiran watched her go and debated chasing after her, but decided against it. It wasn’t because of the rain. Much as it had pained him to hurt her, it had to be done.

He waited until the rain let up and then shrugged his damp clothes back on. He still needed to check around the coops for the chickens, and tomorrow he’d search the woods. While the deer did not belong to Ewan, the land did, so hunters were not to use it for their own gain. He’d take the aging gamekeeper with him. Hopefully the man would remember where he’d made kills.

The rain had brought frigid air with it and Keiran tried to shake off the cold. He’d make a quick circle of the coops, and then he’d head inside to change. His thoughts immediately strayed to Agnes. What was she doing? Would he see her?

Clenching his teeth, he tried to eliminate her from his thoughts as he rounded the corner to the first coop.

He was barely paying attention when the sight of a man with two dead chickens in either hand caught his attention. There was something familiar in the set of his shoulders, but Keiran didn’t have time to place it before he yelled, “Hey.”

The man gave a quick glance back and then broke into a run toward the trees. Keiran pulled out his pistol as he picked up the pace to follow. He didn’t know why he pulled out the weapon, other than it was force of habit from fighting for his life.

“Stop this instant,” Keiran yelled.

The man looked back then and suddenly halted, dropping the chickens and raising a gun of his own. Keiran realized his mistake a second too late. He would never have shot the poacher, but the other man felt threatened. The same moment Keiran was about to yell not to shoot, the pistol’s blast rent the air.

He felt it hit his arm, a burning, stinging pain, but he didn’t slow his pace. He leveled his own gun and fired back. He narrowly missed as the poacher reached the forest line and disappeared into the trees.

Kerian watched as blood trickled down his arm, and he winced at the pain as he bent to pick up the chickens the man had dropped.

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed them and made his way back toward the house.

Blood was steadily oozing down his arm, but he ignored it as he entered through the kitchen, dropping the chickens on the cook’s counter.

Dimly, he was aware his pace was slowing, but he had the sudden urge to see Agnes. To hold her, and tell her he was sorry.

He made his way up the steps, dragging his feet with him as he went. Where might she be? He hoped not Clarissa and Ewan’s room, though perhaps Ewan could help him. It felt like a long way from there, though.

Entering into the entryway, he moved toward the grand stair but decided a rest might be in order first as he leaned against the wall.

He hadn’t even realized the edges of his vision were dimming until Rhona stepped into his field of view.

“Are ye all right?” she asked, her brow crinkling.

“I need to see Agnes.” He croaked out, looking down at his arm.

Her gaze followed and then she gave a cry. “Oh, dear lord. Agnes didn’t shoot you did she?”

“What?” He tried to laugh, but his mouth didn’t work quite right. “Agnes hurt me? She’s the sweetest woman I know. I am an arse, but she…”

Rhona gently guided him to the floor. “Of course, you’re right. That girl wouldn’t hurt a mouse. She just looked so upset when she came in.” Then sitting him against the wall, she stood. “You’ll be fine, don’t move and I will be right back.”

He gave a small nod and closed his eyes. He’d just rest while Rhona got help. Then he’d find Agnes. Because he needed to see her, hold her, and tell her how precious she was.

Chapter Seven

Agnes sat with Clarissa as she tearfully confessed to her cousin what Keiran had said. She’d expected Clarissa to look concerned, or perhaps angry, but instead, Clarissa was smiling knowingly. “Why do you look like that?” Agnes finally huffed.

Clarissa’s grin only widened. “Because,” a little giggle escaped. “I was certain I didn’t want to marry either. And I was certain Ewan’s intentions were those of a rogue.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Agnes sniffed. “I always knew Ewan had honest intentions and feelings. He is a gentleman.”

“So is Keiran. You don’t see it because your emotions are clouding your judgment. How many times have you been alone with Keiran? Has he done more than give you a kiss? Many men aren’t so reserved, and that includes English gentleman. Keiran has protected you from poachers. He’s shared his past in an attempt to explain why he’s having difficulty opening up. He’s been hurt, Agnes. He’s healing, and he needs more time and patience, but that doesn’t make him less honorable.”

Ewan entered the room then, a scowl on his face. “It’s very kind of you to give Keiran the benefit of the doubt, mo chridhe, but I am inclined to disagree. He’s been a complete arse.”

Agnes looked from one to the other. She wanted to believe Clarissa, but the sting of his rejection was too strong. “I believe ye that he is a good man. I do. But I don’t think it’s healing he needs. I just don’t think that he wants to court me. I—”

But she didn’t finish because a loud knock sounded at the door. “Who is it?” Ewan called.

“My lord, it‘s Laird McKenna. He’s been shot.” The butler’s muffled voice cried through the door.

“Shot?” She gasped as Ewan strode back to the door, wrenching it open.

“Send for the doctor if ye haven’t already.” His voice boomed. “Where is he?”

The butler was hunched over, attempting to catch his breath. “In the entry, my lord.”

Ewan took off at a near run as the butler looked to her. “He’s asking for you, Miss Faulkenberry.”

She’d been frozen until that moment, but those words sprang her body into action and she took off behind Ewan. She had to hold up her skirts as she raced after him, heart hammering in her chest. What if he wasn’t all right? As soon as she reached the balcony, she spotted Keiran sitting on the floor, a pool of blood under him. Aunt Rhona was carefully inspecting him.

“How bad is it?” Ewan picked up speed, heading down the steps two at a time.

“Clean through the arm. I don’t think it hit a bone, but I can’t be certain.” Rhona glanced up at her and gave her a small smile. “I’m glad you came, Agnes.”

She couldn’t form words as she raced to up to him, Aunt Rhona gesturing for her to come to his other side.

Sitting down next to him, she gently took his hand. “Keiran?”

His eyes fluttered open then. “You came.”

“Of course I did.” She gave his hand a squeeze, pressing against his side.

He titled his head to rest against her shoulder. “I missed ye.”

Her other hand came to his cheek and she cradled it. Trying not to cry, she pressed her lips against his forehead. “You just saw me.”

“I ken, but I wanted tae tell ye that I never meant to hurt ye.”

“Shhhh,” she whispered. “It doesn’t matter.”

But his body had gone slack against hers.

Ewan swooped in, and Agnes tried not to panic. “What’s happening?”

Aunt Rhona gave her a pat on the knee. “He’s been going in and out.”

Ewan looked at the wound then. “You’re right. I think it’s a clean flesh wound. Let’s get him upstairs while he’s quiet and get it bandaged until the doctor can arrive.”

With the help of one of the groomsmen, Ewan managed to carry him up the stairs and settle Keiran into his room.

“Remove that case from the pillow.” Ewan told Agnes, pointed toward a spare. “I’ll use it to wrap around the wound until I can properly bandage it.”

Agnes did as she was told, and Ewan cinched the cloth about the wound. He was still unconscious, but she winced on his behalf.

“Stay with him. I am just going to collect some supplies,” Ewan grunted as he made his way to the door.

Agnes didn’t bother to respond, instead focusing on Keiran. Moving to the other side of the bed, she gently sat down. She didn’t want to jostle him, but she felt the need to be near him now. Her hip pressed against his, and she took his hand into hers, holding it in his lap.

She watched his eyes flutter open. “Agnes?”

“I’m here.” She shifted closer, her other hand brushing his cheek.

“How did I get up here?” He looked around his room.

Her hand trailed down his jaw, the masculine stubble making her want to rub her cheek against it. “Ewan and one of the groomsmen brought you up.”

He grimaced as he looked at his arm. “Bloody hell, that hurts.”

“It must.” It was so nice to hear him speak normally. Cursing had never sounded so good.

“After I recover, I’ll tell ye about when I was stabbed with a bayonet.” He gave a grunt as he tried to shift up on his pillow. “This hurts worse.”

Agnes leaned over then, and dropping his hand, slid her arm under his shoulders. Their chests were practically crushed together as she lifted him to plump the pillow under his head.

Quick as a snake, his uninjured arm wrapped around her, holding her close to his body. “Don’t leave me, Agnes. Stay with me.”

She brought her hands to his face again. “I won’t leave you.”

“Ye promise?”

“I promise,” she said as she lightly touched her lips to his. Never had she dreamed she would be so bold. But in this moment…it just felt right.

As she pulled away, he lifted his head to take her lips again. It heated her body, the feel of his lips, but she tamped the excitement back down. He was injured. And with that in mind, she tried to sit back up.

“Where are ye goin’?” he asked as he held her against him.

“You’re hurt. I shouldn’t be kissing you.” Raising her eyebrows, she tried once more to ease away, but he still held firm. Even injured he was strong.

“Kiss me again,” he demanded, and Agnes found herself sinking into his embrace, pressing her lips to his.

Did a gentleman kiss like this? Because it was divine. He opened her mouth with his lips, and the tip of his tongue touched hers. She gasped and then sank deeper into him. She slid her hands down his neck to support herself on his muscular chest.

He’d kissed her once before, but that had been chaste compared with this. And this was everything. What other delights did his embrace hold?

But she didn’t have time to find out as the doorknob rattled. Agnes sat up, only just getting herself upright when Ewan burst back through the door, carrying rags, boiling water and whisky.

“Is he awake?” Ewan asked, barely glancing their way. It was a good thing, too. Because her cheeks were flaming with embarrassment and…desire.

“Yes,” Keiran answered. “Let’s get this over with.

With a nod, Ewan set to work cleaning the wound. “Agnes, hold him still.”

She blinked, attempting to figure out how she might accomplish such a feat. He was so much larger than her. But she barely had time to consider her options when Keiran pulled her back down against his chest. “I’m ready,” he growled.

Ewan bathed the wound in the hottest water Keiran could stand, and then he dumped whisky on it.

She felt Keiran jerk under her. His muscles tensed and his arm locked around her waist, but he didn’t move. She titled her head up to look into his eyes. “You’re doing wonderfully,” she murmured. “Just a little longer.”

His gaze held hers with an intensity that she hadn’t thought possible. But he said little as Ewan wrapped the wound in clean bandaging. She lost track of time as she looked into his eyes. Keiran was so strong, brave, handsome. For a moment, she wondered what else she could possibly want in a man.

Only one thing came to mind. It’d be nice if he wanted her in return. Not sometimes, but always. The rest of her worries melted away as she looked at him like this.

“I’m done,” Ewan announced.

Agnes sat up again and Keiran resisted for a moment before he let her rise. Stay, he mouthed.

And so she did.

Servants, Ewan, her mother, her aunt, and the doctor were in and out of the room as day passed into night. Keiran looked more strained with each passing hour, and her worry grew.

But Agnes stayed.

She ate a late supper of mutton stew as the visitors quieted. She’d had a dish brought for Keiran as well, and she insisted that he eat. “It will help your strength,” she urged.

“I’m sure ye’re right,” his eyes were closed, his features pinched. “But I’ll be fine. It’s not that bad of a wound. I think I just overdid it, running up here. Lost too much blood.”

Agnes brought the plate over and began feeding him some bits of stew. As he ate, some of his color returned and she breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll have to leave soon.”

“I want ye to stay.” His hand shot out to hold her hip. She had to marvel at his strength even when wounded.

“I can’t, Keiran.” She fed him another bite of stew. “It’s not like the inn. Everyone will know. And my mother will insist that Ewan force you…” She stopped, swallowing.

He grimaced. “I don’t want to be alone tonight, Agnes.” Then he opened his eyes to look into hers.

Her heart gave a flutter. “I’m sure I can find someone to sit with you.”

“I don’t want to be without you.” He winced in pain and her heart jumped within her chest.

“What if we have to marry?” she whispered as though just saying the words loud would make them come true.

* * *

Keiran took a breath. She was right. In a house this full, her absence would be noted and her mother would be within her rights to demand they wed. Ewan would take great delight in seeing the sentence carried out.

Well, it would be a sentence for Agnes anyway.

He’d be the luckiest man alive.

She fed him another bite of stew, which he ate, smiling to himself. He’d honestly been laying it on a little thick but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Having Agnes fawn over him was a treat he didn’t want to pass up. It did, however, fill his thoughts with images of what a life with Agnes would be like.

He’d been doing that a great deal of late. Currently, he was thinking of her pressed against him, safe and warm, through the long Scottish winter.

“Go back tae yer room.” He found himself dropping his voice low to match hers. “When everyone’s asleep, come back.”

“Keiran,” her voice rang with a warning he didn’t want to hear.

It was dastardly, but he knew how caring Agnes was, and he used it against her. He felt a twinge of guilt but he ignored it. When would he have a chance like this again? “What if infection breaks out? I don’t want to be alone.”

He heard her huff, and he knew that he had her. He suppressed a grin, it would give away the game. “All right. But you have to promise ye’ll behave.”

“I promise.” He meant it. He didn’t intend to do anything untoward. He simply wanted to hold her, touch the softness of her hair, the smoothness of her skin. It would give his dreams so much more depth when she was gone again.

Because this might be his one opportunity to be with her like this. Well, his only opportunity that he’d take advantage of. Memories of their night in the inn filtered through his thoughts. He’d slept on the floor while she’d been in the bed.

He’d been reliving the night in the inn for months. Remembering the swell of her hip under his hand, the softness of her cheek. Add to that the kiss a few days ago and a night that she lay pressed against him, he might be able to sustain himself with those memories.

She left his room with a backward glance, and he said nothing. Mainly because he didn’t want to undo her commitment, and his words usually just upset her. With good reason.

His kisses, however…but he stopped himself. Best not to think of those now. It would undo his commitment to behave in as gentlemanly a fashion as this situation permitted.

He grinned. When they didn’t talk, they got along perfectly. Agnes was so innocent. Talking of gentleman and chivalry, he would not inform her that all men were deviants when it came to beautiful misses like herself. Not all men were scarred like him; that was where he was different.

But again, not something he’d explain to Agnes. Except, when he kissed her, he forgot how naive she was because she kissed like a woman of passion that made him burn with desire.

Stop thinking, he chastised himself. Remember her innocence. Her desire for a knight in shining armor. A man who saved women on the side of the road and slept amongst the thieves.

An hour passed before he heard the door creak open. Turning his head, he watched Agnes as she inched the door closed.

She was in a night shift and dressing gown, her hair in a simple braid. His manhood hardened to see her in such. Which was ridiculous because other than a pretty pair of ankles, she was completely covered. But she wouldn’t feel that way. She’d be soft against him, so inviting.

He hardened further and gritted his teeth. It was going to be a long night if he couldn’t get these wayward thoughts to heel.

The door finally snapped closed and Agnes crept to the chair next to the fire.

No, that wouldn’t do at all. Keiran wanted to feel her. “Come over here, lass.”

She stopped and turned toward him. “You’re awake.”

“Aye,” he answered as he pulled down the bedding for her to join him.

“I’ll sleep in the chair.” She gestured in the direction of the wingback pulled near the fire, and even in the darkness he could see that she trembled. Was she cold or afraid? Either way, Agnes being pressed against his side was the answer. He was sure of it. But she moved away from his and sat in the chair. “I wouldn’t want to disturb your sleep.”

“Ye’ll not disturb me, lass.” He pulled the blankets down farther in silent command.

But still she hesitated. “You need your rest.”

“I’m feeling chilled. A fever perhaps?” he patted the bed. “Come keep me warm.” He was going to burn in hell for lying to her like this.

She crossed and stoked the fire, and Keiran worried for a moment that he’d gone too far when he’d cried infection. But he desperately wanted to be close to her.

His blood surged with triumph when she crossed the room and came to the bed, slipping her feet under the covers, and pulling them up to her chest. She didn’t take off her dressing gown, which made him grimace but a look of concern crossed her face as she brought up her hand to check his forehead. “You feel cool enough.”

He turned to face her so her lips were only a breath away from his. “Take off yer dressing gown. Ye’ll get too hot.”

If he’d been hard before, he was aching now with her pressed against him as she was.

Sitting up, she slipped off the garment and let it fall to the floor as she settled back in.

He slid his arm around her shoulders so her head might lie on his chest. When she brought up her hand to rest on his abdomen, it was his turn to tremble.

It felt so perfect. He never wanted to leave.

Chapter Eight

Agnes struggled to remember a time when she’d been more content. Or excited. She’d never sleep like this. He was warmth and muscle under her touch, heating her in all the right ways.

With her ear still resting against his chest and her body fit snuggled against his side, she angled her face up to his. Before she could hold it back, she let her thoughts slip out. “I don’t know how I’ll sleep alone for the rest of the winter. This is so much nicer.”

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, and she felt it before she heard it, which was somehow deeply satisfying. “Aye, it is.”

“You really think you’ll never marry?” she asked. “You’ll spend every winter alone?”

He was silent for so long that she’d first thought he hadn’t heard her, and then she worried she’d offended him. “Most times, I’m don’t mind being alone. Lately though, I wonder.” He squeezed her tighter, then his lips grazed her forehead. “But I am not remaining alone for myself. As you pointed out, I lack some gentlemanly qualities that make me a less-than-ideal candidate for any woman.”

She swallowed, guilt stabbing at her chest. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“I ken, lass. And you were correct about me in your own way.”

“My own way? What does that mean?” she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“I’ll admit to being less than a gentleman in a few circumstances if ye’ll agree you can be rather naïve about the temperament of a man. Yer always going on about a man being a gentleman.”

Agnes sighed. “I’m sure I often appear so, and there are areas that I certainly have a great deal to learn about the world. But how I want a man to treat me isn’t one of them. I lost my father, Keiran, and my mother and I were cast into the world. He’d had debts he’d hidden, and it wasn’t until the collectors came to take our possessions, our home, that my mother realized the truth.” She lifted her head a little to better look into his eyes. “You only need to lose a man’s protection to understand its importance. I need a man who understands that too.”

Keiran didn’t answer, and Agnes assumed that he did not agree with her. But she wouldn’t argue her point further with a wounded man who she was currently cuddled against, and so she settled herself back down deeper into his embrace and closed her eyes.

She could feel herself relax, a lull of sleep just settling over her when he finally spoke again. “I sometimes forget ye’ve suffered too. Ye’ve known loss.”

“That’s all right.” He wasn’t wearing a shirt, it had been cut off him to bandage the wound. Agnes allowed her fingers to trail over his warm skin, the hair on his chest tickling her palm. “But it is why I have to return in the spring and find a husband. My mother and my uncle have shouldered the burden long enough. It’s my duty to marry a man who can provide for us.” Her voice was sleepy as her fingers reached his neck and started back down his chest toward his abdomen. He felt wonderful, lean and strong and so inviting.

“That is a big responsibility in its own way, yet yer disposition remains so sunny.” His arm tightened around her shoulder

“Is that a compliment or an insult? Does it seem silly to you? That I try to forget the bad and focus on the good?” She let her hand slide down his stomach, stopping at his belly button. What would happen if she allowed herself to go farther?

“No, it doesnae. In fact, I think it is wonderful.” He stopped talking, his breath coming out in a hiss as her hand slid lower. She had just decided that she wanted to find out. He growled her name as she brushed her fingers on the band of his kilt. “Agnes.”

But she didn’t stop. Slipping her hand under his kilt, she allowed herself to slowly explore. The garment was only loosely secured about his waist, giving her free access. As she touched the hair above his manhood, her own unmentionables twitched with need. “I want to touch you, Keiran,” she whispered. “More than I ever wanted anything else in my life.”

And then she wrapped her hand around his member. It was hard, yet velvety and much thicker than she’d imagined. Her fingers couldn’t make it all the way around. He let out a groan at the contact. “I am trying to be good,” he began, panting as she moved her hand up and down, exploring further.

“I am in bed with a rogue.” Her husky voice sounded foreign to her own ears. “I don’t want to be good.”

“Agnes, you were just talking about marrying and…” His words trailed off as her fingers skimmed over the head and then slid back down his shaft.

His nipple was under her cheek and she had the urge to kiss it, to know what his skin tasted like. As her tongue darted out, he gave a loud groan. “Did I hurt you?” she asked, her hands and mouth going still.

“Bloody hell, no. It’s just right.” He panted. “Agnes, please, please don’t stop.”

It filled her with a deep satisfaction, and even more powerful yearning, to hear those words again, as she resumed her exploration. “I want to touch every inch of you.” She kissed a trail down his stomach, marveling at the ripple of muscles that led to a deep V pointed straight to his most interesting part of all. “Kiss you from head to toe.” He used his good hand to yank at his kilt, loosening it until it fell to the sides. Her lips skimmed down his skin until she had reached his manhood and she gave it the smallest kiss, right on the tip.

But it wasn’t enough, so she licked it and then, without thinking, sucked it into her mouth. His hips bucked off the bed. “Oh, dear lord.” He groaned, his head thrashing.

“Did I do it wrong?” she asked, but somehow, she knew she hadn’t.

“No, lass, please,” he begged again.

This time she sucked more of him into her mouth, running her tongue along the ridges.

“Sweet…Mary…mother…of…” He took a shallow breath between each word.

As she moved back up his shaft, she paused. Somehow, talking made it all the more fun. “Can I tell you a secret?” She sucked him in again and then pulled off. “I don’t think I want to be a lady anymore.” She kissed him again before releasing him. “This is so much more fun.” Again, she continued suckling him and then talking. “Now I understand why women prefer rogues to gentleman.” And, as she wrapped her lips about him one more time, a sweet, sticky liquid coated her tongue. His body spasmed, his moans filling the room.

It was so deeply satisfying that her own ache nearly came undone. She tried to decide which she preferred, talking or doing. The conversation had made it that much more exciting.

And then a knock at the door interrupted all of the fun. “Keiran?” Ewan called. “Are ye all right?”

It was wild and wanton, but Agnes suddenly didn’t care if they were caught, and she stifled a giggle. Keiran flipped her to his other side, grimacing at the pain it surely caused. That sobered her up. “Get down on the other side of the bed,” he hissed.

She did as he asked and he ripped the blanket up his body, not a moment too soon, before Ewan opened the door. “Keiran, what’s the matter?”

“I’m fine. Just a dream,” Keiran gritted out. He sounded pained, but Agnes was aware of the actual reason he was really flustered, and she had to cover her mouth with her hands to keep a wild laugh from escaping

She could only see Ewan’s feet as she peered under the bed toward the door, but she could hear him. “Aye, I have them too.” Ewan paused. “Being with Clarissa helps.”

“I dunnae want to a lecture on the merits of marriage now,” Keiran answered. “I’m fine, Ewan, so if ye’ll excuse me, I’m going tae try to get some sleep.”

“Of course,” Ewan replied.

He was standing an inch from her dressing gown, and she wondered if she should try and grab it. If he stepped on it, he’d surely notice, but if she moved it, he might see it even if he didn’t touch it.

But, instead, he turned ’round and headed for the door.

Once it clicked closed, she popped her head back up. “That was exciting.” She giggled as Keiran held out his good arm to help her up.

“That’s not the word I would use.” His voice was grave but his eyes were soft as he gently led her back into the bed.

“Worried you’ll be stuck with me?” he asked, reading into the sound of his voice, his worry over being caught. Some of her happiness vanished, thinking that he regretted what they had just done.

He pulled her on top of him then, her body landing on his with a thud. “I keep trying to tell ye, ye don’t want to be stuck with me.”

“You’ll hurt yerself,” she chastised playfully, her irritation forgotten at the feel of his body against hers. Without thought, she rubbed her hips against his. “Oh, Keiran,” she gasped as the movement both relieved and intensified the ache.

With his uninjured hand, he pulled at the hem of her night-rail, which had already risen up to her thighs. “Do ye like that,” he rasped in her ear.

“Oh yes.” She moved against him again, but this time he moved his hand between her legs while his fingers found her most intimate place and as they explored her, the sweet torture only intensified. She clung to his shoulders as her head flung back and her hips bucked against his hand.

“Tell me what ye like about it, lass.” His mouth pressed kisses to the column of her neck as his hand began a rhythmic motion that was steadily building the ache inside.

“I like everything.” She gasped. “But I can’t feel enough of your skin. I want more of your touch. I want it harder.” She moaned, and he let out another groan.

“Ye are goin’ to be the death of me.” He growled between gritted teeth, but she couldn’t push out any more words as the tension finally broke inside her.

Riding the wave, she finally slumped against his chest, in a satisfied heap. “That was glorious,” she sighed as she snuggled against him. “I wish we could do it again.”

He didn’t answer, and as her eyes closed, she was sure she would fall asleep right on top of him.

* * *

Keiran knew the moment she drifted off. He let her fall into a deeper slumber, and then he carefully shifted her to his good side.

It had been a mistake to have her in his bed. He’d known it would be. He’d seen glimpses of the passionate woman inside Agnes, but he’d never imagined it would be like that. It had been unimaginably sublime. A woman this kind, loving and passionate was a rare jewel, and he didn’t deserve her.

He’d been able to hold himself off at the inn. He’d been certain she didn’t want him, that she had just wanted to experiment. But when she’d started talking and then touching? It had been more than he could stand. A man had his limits.

But a couple of things were becoming clear. First, he couldn’t let her go; he knew that with absolute certainty. And so they would absolutely be doing this again.

Second, Agnes was an innocent, and she was right—she needed protection. She was not a woman to have a dalliance with, so they would have to marry.

He swallowed down his reservations. He’d have to keep the dark parts of himself hidden deep. And while he may not be able to give her his whole heart, he certainly could provide her and her mother a safe haven in this world. Now that he knew he had something tangible that she needed, it made it easier for him to give in to his need for her.

Everything she wanted would be hers. Dresses, carriages, babies, a warm body to provide pleasure. Everything but his heart.

With his thoughts and his future neatly ordered, he fell into a deep sleep.

As the first rays of the sun peeked into his room, Keiran opened his eyes. The fire had died, but he was delightfully cozy. And while his arm ached, a contentment he hadn’t known for so long had settled about his soul.

“Mmmmhhh, is it morning already?” Agnes’s muffled voice vibrated against his neck.

He squeezed her tighter. “It is,” he said as he peppered the crown of her head with kisses. “Agnes, ye have to leave.”

“But I’m so comfortable.” She burrowed in deeper.

“Fine by me.” His hand slid down her back. “It’s not how I wanted to announce our engagement, but it will do.”

Her head shot up then. “Engagement?”

He should have sensed the trouble coming, but her body was pressed to his and his mind was languid. “Yes, engagement. After what we did, it’s the right thing to do.”

She huffed and her breath fanned his face as her hand pressed against his chest. “Right? You want to discuss what is right now?”

“I ken ye think I’m a man without scruples, but—”

“I didn’t say that.” She pushed herself a little higher.

“Ye’ve called me a rogue, said I wasnae a gentleman.” He was both irritated at her lack of cooperation and her insistence on moving farther away.

“Ye invited me into your bed when we were unmarried.” Her eyebrows rose, daring him to disagree.

“Ye started touching me,” he returned defensively.

“I am an innocent maiden.” She sniffed. “You are the experienced rogue.”

He laughed despite himself. “Ye’re right there, but we should still marry.”

“I’ll consider it,” she answered as she rose from his bed, slipping on her dressing gown and her slippers.

“Consider it?” he sat up too, wincing as he went. Her demeanor immediately changed.

She rushed back to the bed, pushing him back down, plumping pillows, and arranging covers. “You are to stay in bed, do you hear me?” She huffed.

The doorknob rattled again, and Agnes looked up, her eyes wide with fear.

“Stoke the fire, lass,” Keiran mumbled.

She hopped out of bed and tossed on her dressing gown, pulling it tight about her as she crossed to the fire.

Ewan walked in again, but rather than looking upset, his quick glance at Agnes showed he was pleased. “Come to check on the patient already?”

Agnes gave a nod, keeping her eyes on the fire.

Kerian felt a mix of both relief and irritation. Part of him wanted to declare Agnes his while the other would prefer that Ewan not challenge him to duel before he’d healed. “Agnes, Ewan will keep an eye on me.”

She nodded again, and without looking at either of them made her way to the door.

Ewan watched her leave before he pulled a chair up next to Keiran’s bed. “I can sit with ye if ye like.”

Keiran nodded, though he would have greatly preferred that Agnes come back in. Whether they were sparring or kissing, she was always exciting.

Apparently, Ewan was also considering Agnes’s finer qualities. “That is quite a woman. Ye should have seen her yesterday caring fer ye.”

Keiran closed his eyes. “Aye.” Truth be told, it was a fantastic quality, and one he would likely appreciate for the rest of his life if he could convince her to marry him. But right now, he could only think of one of her other finer points. The fact that she was a vixen in disguise.

“And in here first thing this morning, checking on ye.” Ewan leaned forward as if wanting to really make his point. “There is no finer woman that—”

“Enough, Ewan. Ye’ve convinced me.” Keiran sighed. “It’s Agnes you need to talk to.”

Ewan was quiet for so long that Keiran opened his eyes. Then his friend began laughing. It grew louder and louder until he was clutching his sides. “Ye’re telling me that she’ll reject ye?”

Keiran used his good arm to scratch his head. “She might.” He used the palm of his hand to scrub his face. “She isn’t sure I am chivalrous enough.”

Ewan started laughing again. “Well, it’s hard to deny that.”

“She said they’ve been makin’ their own way, and she needs a man who will care for her.” Keiran took a breath. “I think she worries I won’t be up for the task after the way I acted when we first met.”

Ewan sat back in his chair. “Is that why she’s always going on about gentlemen?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not just about an English bloke with all his dandy manners and neatly pressed cravats? She wants a man who cares for those in his charge?”

“Before I even met her, I failed her.” He scrubbed his face again.

“Keiran, I don’t think yer the man who failed them. I’d asked Clarissa once, why her aunt would agree to chaperone such an arduous journey to Scotland. Clarissa said that if her father asked it, his sister always agreed. But I’m only now realizing it’s because he supports them.”

“Aye, she said as much. And now she says it’s her duty to marry to take the burden off her mother.” He swallowed hard. “But then I went and sat on my damn horse while ye helped them in their need.”

“Ye’re doing a good job of provin’ yerself now.” Ewan patted his shoulder.

Was he? He wasn’t so sure. Even last night seemed to prove her assertions about him. He should have asked her to marry him first and invited her to his bed second. It’s as though he couldn’t get it right no matter how much he tried.

And while he didn’t want to think about the reasons too much, he needed her to marry him. He’d like to say that was so he could protect both her reputation and her future, but somehow he knew that, after last night, he could never let her go to another man. He couldn’t let her go, period.

He closed his eyes again. He’d feel better when she came back to his room.

Chapter Nine

“Did you just say that Keiran asked you to marry him?” Clarissa sat propped up in bed, her belly looking so large, that Agnes thought she might burst at any moment.

After she’d gone to her room to change, she’d come to Clarissa’s room to keep her cousin company, knowing that Ewan was with Keiran.

“Yes.” Agnes had to confess to someone; she needed advice. And she happened to know Clarissa had not gone to her marriage bed pure.

“And you replied?” Clarissa’s hands clasped as she assessed her cousin.

“That I would consider it.” Agnes notched her chin higher, ready to defend her answer.

But she needn’t have bothered. Clarissa burst into a fit of giggles. “You told him maybe? Oh, Agnes, how delightful.”

Agnes blinked several times. She’d thought Clarissa would either chastise her for not saying yes to a good offer or perhaps for not saying no to a rogue. “That isn’t what I expected you to say.”

“Well, there is nothing wrong with making a man chase you. I mean, Keiran is more of a hunter than most.”

“I don’t know if that is what I am doing exactly,” Agnes murmured as a blush spread across her cheeks. Then she proceeded to tell Clarissa what had happened between her and Keiran. “And the things I said, Clarissa.” Agnes blushed deeper.

But Clarissa’s smile was understanding. “Did he like them?”

Agnes had to breath several times before she could answer. “I believe that he did. He asked me to say several more…” She stopped, turning crimson. “Don’t tell Ewan yet. He’ll insist we marry, and I need to think about all of this.”

Clarissa nodded. “It took me some time to decide that Ewan was the right man for me. Though now, I can’t imagine why I ever held back. But Keiran is a fine man, Agnes. There are some wounds that need time to heal, although I can’t think of a better woman to help him.”

Agnes nodded, feeling more at peace. As she plumped Clarissa’s pillows and tucked the covers around her large belly, the door clicked opened.

“Agnes, do ye think we can trade patients? Keiran is tired of me.” Ewan winked in her direction as he dropped to give his wife a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m sure he isn’t,” Agnes said as she turned to collect her things. At the very least, she needed to give Ewan and Clarissa privacy. Ewan had sat next to his wife with his hands spread across her belly. His affection for her was so apparent.

Agnes swallowed. She’d told Keiran that she wanted a man’s protection, that she needed a man to care for her. But deep in her heart, she knew it was more about affection. Up until the previous evening, Keiran had spent most of his time pushing her away, other than when he’d kissed her, of course.

She wondered if it was wise to go to Keiran’s room now. Perhaps it would be best if they both spent some time deciding what was best for the future because she wanted a husband who would cherish her, not push her away.

She quietly passed by his room on her way to hers, noting that the door was ajar as the doctor examined him.

“Agnes,” Keiran called out to her.

Should she pretend she didn’t hear? But she stopped and turned, entering into the room. “How is the patient?” she addressed the doctor, rather than Keiran.

“As long as infection doesn’t set in, he’ll be fine.” The doctor gave her a kind smile. “How is Lady Dumfries?”

“Doing very well,” Agnes replied. Her gaze flitted to Keiran’s and then away again. “Did you need anything, Laird McKenna?”

“Aye.” He growled. “I need ye to sit with me.”

The doctor gave her a wink. “He’s not wrong. The company of such a lovely lady is sure to speed his recovery. If ye see any signs of infection, send for me.” Then, putting his tools back in his case, he gave them a nod. “I am going to check on the lady of the house before I leave.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Agnes nodded before she perched herself on the chair next to Keiran’s bed. The doctor nodded as he left the room, careful to leave the door open.

His gaze met hers in a defiant look before he patted the bed next to him. “Sit here, lass.”

She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure that is a good idea. You need your rest—”

“I need to be close to ye,” he returned as he extended his hand.

With a sigh, she rose and crossed to close over the door then went back to the bed to resettle herself on the mattress. He immediately planted his hand on her hip, pulling her closer.

Agnes felt her cheeks heating. “I shouldn’t have touched you last night. You needed quiet and rest.”

“I needed ye,” he answered, sounding for all the world like he meant it. He didn’t look away nor did he let her go.

But she shook her head. “No one saw anything, and you didn’t actually…” She searched for the appropriate word. How did one point out that their maidenhead was still intact? “There was no need to propose.”

“Propose?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

She suppressed a smile then. “I suppose you’re correct. You didn’t so much request my hand as inform me it was a necessary measure.” She swallowed. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what. “But it isn’t necessary. So, I release you from your duty.”

“Duty?” he asked, his eyes hooded, making in hard for her to read them.

“To me.” She made to stand, but he held her in place with his hand.

She was surprised at the speed of which he hooked his arm underneath her and flipped her around so the was lying on the bed and he was on top of her. “Your arm!”

“My arm is fine.” He looked down at her, hunger lighting his eyes. “Right now, what I care about is you.”

“Well, I care about you too. You don’t want an infection to set in.” He relaxed at her words and he eased down so his weight was on top of hers, pressing against her in the most comfortable way.

“Ye care about me, lass?” His lips touched hers and she melted. She twined her arms around his neck as he slanted her mouth open to plunder it with his tongue. When he lifted her head, she had to search her mind to remember what they were discussing.

“Of course I do.” She breathed in his scent, the feel of him.

Her dress was a simple one, as she was mostly caring for Clarissa and Keiran, and as he slid his hand slid underneath it, he skimmed it up her leg, running along her pantaloons. “We can talk about the future when I’m better if that will make ye happy, but I want ye back in my bed tonight.”

“Keiran,” she managed to say before his lips descended again. He kissed her until she was near breathless, and it took every ounce of her energy to focus on her thoughts when he finally lifted his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. The more often we do this, the…”

He found her center, and his fingers stroked her before settling on her nub. His light touch made her body coil with tension in the most delightful way. “You know you want to, lass.”

“It’s just that—” But she couldn’t get any more words out as he picked up the tempo.

“I’ll make ye feel so good.” He began kissing a trail across her jaw, angling toward her ear. When he sucked in the sensitive flesh, shivers crawled up and down her skin.

“You are so naughty,” she breathed as her hips moved against him, encouraging him even as she tried to resist.

“Oh, lass, I can show you things that will be so delightfully wicked. Would you like to know what my mouth would feel like against ye? Like ye did to me last night.”

Agnes gripped his hair, those words making her ache inside as she near exploded. “Keiran.” She panted. “I’m trying to give you the freedom you wanted.”

“What I want is—”

But a knock at the door didn’t allow him to finish. “My lord,” the butler spoke through the door. “I was told Miss Faulkenberry might be with ye. A young lady form the village has called looking for her.”

“Bloody bullocks,” Keiran gritted out as he slowly sat back up then reached out his hand to her.

With a sigh, Agnes took Keiran’s outstretched fingers and pulled herself up. “I’ll be right down.”

Standing, Keiran started to rise as well, but she gave him a small push. “You stay here. You’re resting so you can recover.”

“I should go with ye. Who do you even know from the village? Why would anyone be calling for you?”

“It’s likely the girl I bought the cradle from.” Agnes brushed her palm across his cheek. She couldn’t imagine why the girl would need to speak with her. It was odd at best.

Kerian looked up at her. “I don’t like that, and we’re not done talking.”

“Is that what we were doing? Talking?” She winked at him. “I’ll be back soon enough. Someone has to make sure you stay in bed.”

His eyes darkened again. “Lass, ye can keep me in bed as long as ye want.”

A grin on her face, she crossed to the door. “Rest.” And then she left, but her body ached at the loss of his touch as she made her way down the hall.

She didn’t want a man who didn’t want her, but he was making it difficult to resist. What if he stopped wanting her the way he did now? Would he still protect her? Provide for her? Her father had left them with nothing. She couldn’t take that risk.

Reaching the entryway, the butler directed her to the front sitting room. As Agnes entered, the girl she’d bought the cradle from sat wringing her hands in one of the wingback chairs by the fire. Christmastide was coming, and the gray weather made it feel as though winter was near upon them.

“Hello?” Agnes called as she entered.

The girl’s head snapped up and she shot from the chair, dropping into a courtesy. “Hello, mum.”

“We didn’t formerly introduce ourselves the other day. I’m Agnes Faulkenberry.”

The girl curtseyed again. “Olivia McGuire, mum.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Agnes moved to the chair across from Olivia and took a seat. It crossed her mind again, that she had no idea why Olivia might be here. “How may I help you?”

The girl twisted her hands again. “Do ye like the cradle?” the girl fussed with her simple skirt, her gaze cast down at its folds.

“Very much.” Agnes gave her a smile.

The girl nodded. “Would ye be needin’ anymore furniture?”

Surprise rippled through Agnes. “Oh, I don’t think so. Do you have any other baby pieces?”

“No, mum.” Olivia’s eyes pleaded with her.

“I’m afraid I can’t buy any other pieces from you.” She truly would have bought anything, but she had no more pin money to spare.

The girl’s shoulders hunched, a sigh escaping her lips. “That is too bad. I’ve a number of pieces to sell.”

“I wish you luck,” Agnes replied. The girl was nervous, desperate even.

“Thank ye fer seein’ me.” The girl began to rise, but Agnes stopped her.

“May I ask about your family?” It was perhaps rude, but Agnes couldn’t contain her curiosity. Something told her this girl was in trouble.

Olivia’s gaze rose to meet hers. All her pain and worry reflected back at Agnes. “Me da passed, and me brother and I are tryin’ to provide fer our baby sister.” Olivia began ringing her hands again. “My brother is a good hunter, but it hasn’t been enough. I’ve tried to take in some laundry…” The girl’s voice trailed off. “I should go. I’ve taken enough of yer time.”

Olivia rose from her seat, but Agnes remained where she was. She had been fortunate to have an uncle who could take them in, provide for them. She tried to imagine what it would be like if she hadn’t. How desperate they might have been. “Olivia, I can come by in a few days to see if there are any other pieces I might need.”

The girl gave her a glowing smile. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

Agnes rose too. “I’m not sure which day. It’s my cousin who is about to have her baby.”

Olivia nodded. “Lady Dumfries.” She turned away, but then turned back to Agnes. “Is Laird McKenna all right? Does he fare well after his injury?”

Agnes blinked. Word certainly did travel quickly. “He’ll be fine, provided infection doesn’t set in.”

Olivia gave a final nod before she curtseyed and headed for the door.

As Agnes started up the stairs, she puzzled over Olivia’s question. Had one of the servants been to town this morning? How had word spread so quickly about Keiran’s injury?

But her wonderings were forgotten as Ewan sprinted toward her. “It’s started.” He gasped as he grabbed her hand pulling her down the hall. “The baby is coming.” Agnes lifted her skirt as she raced down the hall with him.

The doctor was in the room, as was her mother and Aunt Rhona. Sitting on the bed next to Clarissa, she took her cousin’s hand.

Clarissa gave her a wide-eyed, frightened look as she tightened her grip on Agnes’s fingers.

Agnes pushed Clarissa’s hair back from her face. “It’s all right. Relax and take a breath.”

“Agnes.” Clarissa panted as she spoke. “I’m afraid.”

“I’ll be right here with you. Not to worry.”

“These things usually take a while,” the doctor added from the foot of the bed. “No need to get worked up yet. You’ll just expend much-needed energy.”

Agnes gave Clarissa an encouraging smile, hoping she would take the advice. To calm her, Agnes began to sing softly as the others worked around her, readying themselves for the delivery.

Ewan sat on the other side of the bed and took Clarissa’s free hand. “I’ll be here too.” As the women looked at him, his jaw took a stubborn set. “I’m not leaving my wife, so don’t ask.”

Everyone continued about their business, getting sheets and clothes, hot water, and swaddling blankets ready. Agnes hadn’t repainted the cradle yet, but she had gotten it all clean and the linens had been washed and pressed. She’d send Ewan to collect them if he seemed too restless.

Hours passed, and she could see how exhausted Clarissa was becoming. Agnes had never aided in the birth of a baby before, so she wasn’t much use. She did, however, hold her cousin’s hand, sing to her, wipe her brow, and give her sips of water to help her through. Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, a baby girl entered the world.

The cries of that infant were the most joyous sounds in all of Agnes’s life. Tears sprang to her eyes as Clarissa held her little girl in her arms.

“Isn’t she so beautiful,” Clarissa said through her own shower of tears.

“Absolutely perfect.” Ewan stroked the baby’s head.

Agnes watched them with a smile as her mother and aunt cleaned up the room and quietly left with the linens. While she desperately wanted to hold that beautiful baby, she knew it could wait until morning. Right now, the new family needed some time to themselves.

Slipping out behind her mother, she crept down the hall. She should go to bed. It had been a long day, but somehow, she was too excited to be tired. Saying goodnight to her mother, she circled back and found herself standing outside of Keiran’s door.

Softly, she opened it, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep. Clicking the door closed, she turned the lock.

“Ye want me all tae yerself, do ye?” Keiran called from the bed.

With a smile, she crossed to the fire and began unbuttoning her dress. She didn’t understand why, but she needed to sleep in his arms tonight. To be close to him and the heat and comfort he would provide.

She didn’t say a word as she slipped into the bed, his wrapped uninjured arm around her and pulled her close.

“How is the baby?” he murmured against her forehead.

“Lovely,” she replied, circling her arm about his waist.

He gave her a small squeeze. “Clarissa?”

“Good.” Agnes closed her eyes. “I’ll go check on them first thing in the morning.”

“Get some rest, love. You’ve earned it.” Keiran held her close.

Warm and safe in his arms, Agnes wasn’t sure what she’d expected when she’d first walked in. She tried not to read into him calling her love because she didn’t want to ruin what has happening right now. If there was a perfect moment to be had between them, this might have been it. And somehow she knew she wanted it this way forever.

Chapter Ten

Agnes fell asleep in Kieran’s arms within seconds. She’d worn herself out helping Clarissa today. He’d nearly given all of himself to the war he’d fought in India, and it had torn him to pieces. He’d honestly thought that he had nothing left to give in this world. But Agnes was changing him. The way she gave to others, it filled the world with goodness and love. It made everyone around her happier.

He might not be able to do that for everyone the way she did, but he could do it for her. He could fill her back up with love and joy after she gave to those around her.

He loved her. The realization came with such startling clarity that it made his breath catch. Being near her was to be bathed in light. What was more, he had learned that because he understood the darkness of the world, rather than imposing it upon her, it would be his job to protect her from it.

Though, he didn’t know why that hadn’t occurred to him sooner. But he’d keep Agnes safe, protect her, love her as long as he had breath left.

Knowing all this to be true, he fell asleep.

The next morning when he woke, it was to the sound of the door clicking closed. The bed next to him was still warm, but Agnes was gone.

She’d be back, but he wished she hadn’t left yet. He had things he wanted to tell her, so he gingerly rose from the bed and washed and dressed.

Making his way down the hall, he headed for Ewan and Clarissa’s room. The door was ajar and Agnes sat in the sitting room, holding a bundle in her arms.

His heart climbed into his throat, and he had to swallow a lump back down. “There ye are.”

She gave him a glowing smile. “Here I am.”

Then she lifted a tiny hand from the bundle. “I was just about to count her fingers and toes.”

Keiran couldn’t help but smile back. “Why?”

“Because they are so perfectly tiny,” she replied as though the answer were obvious.

With a chuckle, he settled himself on the floor, next to her chair. Reaching his good hand up, he touched the baby’s tiny palm with the tip of his forefinger, and those miniature fingers wrapped about his digit.

“I’ll love her forever,” he whispered, choking back emotion he hadn’t expected to feel.

“Me too,” Agnes murmured.

“Agnes,” he looked up at her then. “I’ll love ye forever too. As long as there is breath in my chest, I’ll keep ye heart and protect ye from the harms of the world. And after that, I’ll love ye from the grave, stand next tae ye in heaven.”

She made a choking sound as a tear slipped down her cheek. He wished he could wipe it away, but he still couldn’t use his other arm.

“Yes,” she whispered, speaking after several seconds had passed.

“Yes, what?” he asked, perplexed by her response.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” She slid to the floor then, carefully holding the baby. “I love you too, Keiran. I’ll love you, forever.”

Connected by the baby between them, Keiran leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Agnes’s lips. “As soon as yer aunt and uncle arrive, we’ll be married.”

Someone cleared his throat behind them.

Keiran turned to see Ewan standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his expression unreadable. “Ye’ve forgotten to ask my permission.”

Agnes leaned her head into the crook of his neck. “You’d better ask,” she murmured as the baby cooed contentedly, snuggled between the heat of their bodies.

“Why do I need to ask you?” Keiran raised an eyebrow.

Ewan pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room to stand next to them. “I’m Agnes’s closest male relative.” He let out a deep sigh. “And I need the practice. Not only did I have a daughter today, but Haggis has asked for my help in finding suitors for Ainsley.”

Ewan lowered himself to the floor next to them. “It shouldn’t be hard finding suitors for her. She’s quite lovely.” Keiran had meant to console Ewan but Agnes gave him a look that might have curdled milk. “If ye like that sort of thing,” he added. “I personally don’t, but—”

“Enough,” Agnes rolled her eyes. “I don’t think finding suitors is the issue. I think a suitor holding Ainsley’s attention is more the problem.”

“Quite right.” Ewan let out another sigh. “Where would I even begin? What do you think, Ava?” Ewan looked down at the baby.

“Ava?” Agnes watched the little girl too, the expression so angelic that Keiran caught his breath. Agnes was lovely. He suddenly couldn’t wait to see her hold their child just like this.

“What do ye think?” Ewan asked. “Do ye like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Agnes whispered. “But ye don’t have to ask me.”

“I’m asking ye both. Since Clarissa and I would like ye to bear witness for her. If anything should ever happen to us, we’d ask ye to raise her.”

Agnes looked at him and gave her a nod. It was the first decision they’d made together and they managed it without speaking a word. The rightness of it all made him ache with love. “We’d be honored,” Agnes said.

Ewan gave a nod. “Thank ye both fer yer help. It hasn’t been easy, but I don’t ken how we would have done it without ye.”

Agnes handed Ava back to Ewan. “I wouldn’t have missed it for all the gold in England.”

“Me either,” Keiran replied. He’d been shot, and it had still been the best week of his life.

* * *

A half hour later, Keiran kissed her goodbye at the door of her room. She didn’t want to be away from him now, but for appearance’s sake, they had to go to their own rooms. “Today, I’ll finish the cradle.”

“Who came to visit ye yesterday?” he asked, bringing his hand up to stroke her hair.

She sighed contentedly, leaning into his touch. “The girl we bought the cradle from. Her father has passed, and they are selling what they can to survive. She asked if I wanted to buy anything else. I’m sure I don’t need it, but they are trying to feed their baby sister.”

“Buy whatever ye want, Agnes. We’ll find a use for it.” He bent down to place a kiss on her exposed neck.

It felt divine. “I might be able to purchase something small. My pin money is nearly—”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He laughed a little against her neck, sending vibrations down the column of her throat. “I’ll give you all the money ye need fer whatever ye wish to buy.”

“Keiran, you don’t have to do that.” She brought her hands to his chest meaning to push him away so they could discuss this, but his lips were sliding lower and she found herself grasping his shirt instead.

“Agnes, ye’re about to be my wife. Ye might as well get used to it.” He’d reached the top button of her dress and he used his teeth to open it so that his lips could slide farther down her skin.

“That is quite the trick.” Her breath hitched. “I knew you were a rogue.”

“Only fer ye.” He undid another button.

Her breath was coming in short gasps. Having her very own rogue did sound rather delightful, after all. But before she could tell him so, footsteps sounded down the hall, and Keiran opened her door and gave her a nudge inside. “Later,” he winked and then he was gone.

Agnes was too excited to take a nap, despite having slept so little so she headed to the barn to finish the cradle. It would need a few days before Ava could use it, but she suspected Ewan and Clarissa would have a difficult time putting the little girl down anyway.

She hummed softly as she worked, content to breathe the crisp air while protected from the wind in the barn.

The grooms were working to feed the horses and clean the stalls and the gamekeeper had come in from his morning hunt to sit by the stove. “Can’t find any more signs of that poacher,” he grumbled to someone. She assumed it was one of the groomsman. “He’s been damned hard to track. If he weren’t a criminal, I’d say he should be a huntsman or a gamekeeper. He’s got skills.”

Agnes frowned. If shooting her intended was a skill, then she supposed it was true.

Tuning out the other voices, she continued to work until the door to her stall creaked. Keiran walked in, his arm in a sling.

“What are ye doing out of bed?” she cried, standing and splattering the oil stain on her dress.

One side of his mouth quirked up. “I was shot not very far from here. I couldn’t let you out in the barn by yourself.”

Agnes paused, her cheeks warming in pleasure and annoyance with herself. “Oh, Keiran. I should have thought of that.”

“It’s quite all right. I needed an excuse to be out of bed. I’m damned sick of it. In the army, they plop you back on the front unless ye can’t walk.” He sat down on the stool in the corner. “Not that it isn’t good to recover, but I needed to move. Besides, I got to speak with the gamekeeper.”

“He was talking to you?” Agnes began painting again. “What did he say besides the fact that he hasn’t found any more signs?” Agnes frowned despite herself. She couldn’t help but think if the gamekeeper were more on top of things, Keiran wouldn’t have been shot.

Keiran only chuckled. “It’s definitely someone from the village. A single man working alone. I saw him, and while I didn’t get a good look at his face, he’s younger, tall, broad, and well-muscled.” Keiran paused then. “And I can’t get over the feeling that there is something familiar about him.”

Agnes stopped again, and she watched Keiran’s face as he thought about it. “Mayhap you can ask around the village for a young man who is a good hunter? I promised Olivia I would come to look at the furniture as soon as I could. We could go together once you’re better.”

Keiran nodded. “That makes sense. I’d like to go tomorrow, if you’re up for it.”

“Me?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “I’m not the one who has been shot.”

He stood then and crossed over to her, his hand tangling into the loose coif of her hair. “Ye must be worn out completely from taking care of Clarissa and myself.”

She looked up at him, and she hoped he could see the softness she felt in her heart. “It was a labor of love. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

His eyes closed for a brief second before he bent down and captured her lips with his own. It was tender and fierce, stoking the fire that was burning in her. But they weren’t alone, not really. The grooms were still hard at work. “You are more than I deserve, Agnes Faulkenberry,” he whispered. “Finish yer cradle. I’ll sit with ye.”

She nodded and tried to concentrate. It was going to be a long day.

Unfortunately, she’d had no idea how long. Her mother discovered that Keiran had asked for her hand and that Ewan had given his blessing. She’d no more come back from the barn when her mother found her, chattering about what a blessing this match was. Keiran had walked her to the door and gone back to the barn to talk with the grooms. She wished he were here now. Her mother fluttered about Agnes the entire day and even stationed herself in her daughter’s room that night. She was beside herself with joy, which Agnes was grateful for, but her mother was badgering her with questions. “How did he ask, dear?”

“I told you already. He asked while I was holding Ava. I said yes, and Ewan gave his blessing.” Agnes wasn’t quite telling the truth, but it would have to do.

“Does he know of our situation?” Her mother wringed her hands. It was subtle, but she caught it nonetheless.

Agnes reached to still her mother’s movements. “He knows.”

Her mother nodded. “You have a dowry. Be sure to tell him. I can go live with my brother, I’m sure of it.”

Agnes looked up at her then. “Why wouldn’t you stay with me?” This had not occurred to her before now, and it alarmed her to have her mother a country away. She understood it was what most women did, but it had been the two of them for so long, she struggled to think of her life without her mother.

Her mother, for the first time in forever, grew pink in her cheeks. “Your husband may not want me in the house with you.”

“I’ll speak with him.” Agnes gave her mother a little pat. That is, if her mother ever left her alone again. She had talked with Keiran about her need for security, she had just assumed that extended to her mother, but she wasn’t sure.

“There is something else.” Her mother cleared her throat, her cheeks growing pinker still.

Alarm rang in Agnes’s head. “What?”

“You should know what happens on your wedding night, dear.” Her mother took a breath. “A man is different from a woman—”

“Mother, really. You needn’t explain.” She'd already slept in his bed. “Clarissa informed me of all I need to know.”

Her mother nodded looking very relieved. “Excellent, dear.” Finally, she stood. “Well, I will head off to bed then. As soon as your aunt and uncle arrive, we’ll make arrangements for the wedding.”

Agnes waited for several minutes, not wanting to go to Keiran’s room too soon and be caught. When a soft knock sounded at her door, she was glad that she had, sure her mother had returned with another question. “Yes,” she asked as she opened the door.

“Were ye ever going to come to my room, lass?” Keiran quirked his brow at her.

She bit her lip as she pulled him gently into her room and clicked the door closed behind him. “My mother just left. Ewan told her we were engaged.”

He let out a soft laugh as he wrapped his hand around her waist and he pulled her close, but his face looked troubled. “What did she say? Does she approve? I should have asked her first.”

“Please don’t worry. She is quite happy, but she did bring up an interesting point. You know my father left us with nothing. My uncle has provided me a dowry, and it is by his grace that my mother now lives. She said she could return to England with him, but…” Agnes didn’t know quite how to ask such a large question.

“Do ye want her here, lass?” Keiran kissed her neck, finding that sensitive spot on her neck.

She tilted her head to give him better access. “Yes. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Ewan is giving yer aunt and uncle property to build their own house, but perhaps we can put a dowager house on the same plot of land?”

Agnes leaned back. For her mother to have her own home again, it was too much. “Keiran, that isn’t necessary. I…”

“Just big enough so a few staff can run it. Yer mother would like her own home, I’m sure, and we’ll want ours.”

“That is perfect,” she whispered as his lips slid lower.

He was shuffling them along as he kissed her, but she wasn’t really aware of where they were going until the back of her legs bumped into the bed. “Help me take my shirt off, lass. I can’t do it alone. Ye should have seen me tryin’ to get it on.”

She grinned as she slowly undid the buttons and then slid the garment off his shoulders, taking care not to hurt him. “Let me help you with your pants too.” She grinned up at him as she slid to her knees on the floor.

He tangled his fingers in her hair. “Agnes.” He breathed. But she’d unlaced his breeches and pulled them off his hips and down his thighs. His manhood sprang out, begging for attention. Giving the tip a tiny kiss, she urged him to sit on the bed as she removed the Hattians she’d become so familiar with and then stripped off his pants. “I like undressing you.”

She allowed her hands to glide back up his thighs, but he put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “As soon as I am recovered, I’ll return the favor, but right now, I want to watch you take your clothes off.”

Standing between his thighs, she peeled off her pantaloons and stockings. A wicked smile teased her lips. “Very well, but you’ll have to help me with the buttons on my dress.”

He reached for the tiny row of buttons down the front of her day gown. Agnes was glad she’d never had the opportunity to change into something more formal.

Swatting his hand away, she moved up his body until the buttons were aligned with his mouth. “Not like that, like this.”

He gave a deep growl as he worked his mouth over each tiny pearl, her dress soon gaping open to reveal her shift.

His good hand was tugging the fabric off as she wriggled to be free of it, and then just as quickly, the shift went sailing over her head. She straddled his waist in the most delightful way and he reached up to tweak first one nipple and then the other. She tossed her head back as she moaned. “Yes, like that.”

He didn’t respond other than to make a guttural moan deep in his throat, but he urged her down so his mouth could do what his hand had.

As he kissed and sucked her breasts, heat curled in her belly until she found herself grinding against him. “Oh, please,” she begged as his lips trailed lower.

He kissed across her ribs, nipping down her waist, urging her hips to continue up his body until her center was aligned above his mouth. As he reached his tongue out to drag it across her sex, Agnes gave a cry of pure pleasure.

Words she hardly remembered later tumbled from her lips as she urged him to continue his ministrations. She could barely contain herself as she exploded above him.

But the tremors had scarcely receded before he glided her back down his body, before his manhood was at her entrance. “I ken we’re not married yet.” He gritted his teeth as he asked permission.

Agnes pushed down a little farther until he was pressing inside her, stretching her in the most interesting way.

She knew there would be pain, but she wanted this. “I want all of you, Keiran.” And then she moved farther, an ache starting deep inside.

“Go as slow as ye need, lass,” he said through gritted teeth, the veins of his neck protruding.

Agnes realized it was causing him discomfort to wait. She could take a little pain to relieve his, so she pushed again, with a thrust to seat him all the way in her body.

She cried out in pain as he moaned in pleasure, but his hand came to still her hips. “Give yerself a minute to adjust.”

“But what about you?” She rested her forehead against his.

He kissed her lips. “This is the best kind of torture I ken.”

When the pain receded, Agnes moved again, sliding him back out her body, and found the ache significantly diminished. When he was nearly out of her, she wondered what happened next. This hadn’t been part of the explanation and she hadn’t asked because she was sure when it had been explained that the man would be on top and fully aware of what to do.

But Keiran guided her hips back down his length, and this time, Agnes found it to be…pleasant.

A few more strokes and her own need began to build again as she moved with an eagerness she wouldn’t have thought possible.

He sensed it too and his thrusts increased in tempo, driving her mad with want until she was begging him for more.

“Agnes,” he rasped in her ear. “Had I known the woman underneath, I wouldnae have resisted fer so long. This is more than I ever dreamed—” But a groan interrupted his words as his entire body tensed.

It set off her own end as she came apart in his arms.

As she slowly floated back down to Earth, she lay her head on his shoulder. “Had I known all I needed to do to find the gentleman inside the rogue was to sneak into your bed…”

He burst into a laugh before settling her close. “If yer aunt and uncle don’t arrive within the week, we’re goin’ to have to marry anyway. I can’t spend the night without you.”

She tried not to worry too much. She was sure they had a reasonable explanation for why they were so late and had missed the birth of their granddaughter.

She sighed. There were several mysteries floating about.

But she forgot them all in the comfort of Keiran’s arms and the contented aftermath of their lovemaking. She hadn’t slept very much these past several days, and without meaning to, she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning she woke to Keiran kissing her face repeatedly. She’d had no idea when she’d first met him that he would like this, but she looped her arm about his neck. “Good morning,” she murmured as their lips met.

“Good morning,” he replied. “I have to go, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

She nodded, smiling and pulling him closer, not letting him leave just yet. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”

He nodded. “Come as early as ye can. I can feel the weather changing, and if we’re going to make it to the village, we’ll need to go today or be forced to wait.”

“All right,” she answered. “We can wait if you’d like. Your arm…”

“My arm is fine, lass. I’ve been in good hands.” He gave her a devilish grin. “Let’s take care of yer villager before the weather sets in.”

But it was after lunch before they were able to set out the following day. Her mother and Ainsley insisted on joining them in order to begin looking for wedding dresses.

It meant they needed to wait for Ainsley and her mother to ready themselves.

With so much time on her hands, she and Keiran used it to deliver the cradle to Clarissa and Ewan. “It’s beautiful,” Clarissa glowed as two groomsmen carried it into the sitting room. “And perfect. I can’t imagine putting Ava in the nursery yet.”

Agnes gave a shy smile as Ewan winked at her. “Thank ye fer such a thoughtful gift, Agnes. We’ll be sure to return the favor.”

Her smiled grew. She’d be surrounded by her family when it was time for her to deliver her first child. “Any word from your parents?” Agnes asked, her thoughts immediately returning to the family who hadn’t yet arrived.

She could see the worry that pinched Clarissa’s face. “None.”

Ewan stepped to his wife’s side, wrapping an arm about her waist. “I’m sure they’ve just been delayed. They are only a few days later than planned.”

Clarissa nodded. “I think I expected them to come early, but my father can have a difficult time extricating himself from London.”

“I’m sure that’s it,” Agnes soothed. But she was worried. While her uncle could be hardheaded, he was a man who loved his family. She and her mother were proof of that.

Ewan gave her arm a squeeze. “If they don’t arrive by the beginning of the week, I’ll write to your father’s solicitor to find out when they left and what their travel plans were.”

“That would be lovely.” Clarissa took a deep breath. “Though I am sure you’re right and they will arrive soon.”

Agnes and Keiran left Clarissa’s room to wait in the library for Ainsley and her mother. An hour later, as they loaded into the carriage, Agnes still couldn’t push away the worry that something was wrong with her aunt and uncle.

Her mother chattered as they travelled, asking Agnes about dress styles and the wedding breakfast. Ainsley piped in the tidbits about the latest fashions, only marginally different than those currently in London. But Agnes barely answered, and her mother finally stopped. “Agnes, dear, what is the matter? You are so quiet.”

“I’m worried about Auntie and Uncle—“

“Don’t be,” her mother soothed. “The baby is earlier than we thought, and your uncle was likely delayed. He’s always swept up in some important business, remember? It’s how you and I ended up in Scotland in the first place. He couldn’t get away to chaperone Clarissa’s trip.”

Agnes remembered. She’d missed her first season, and her mother was right. Perhaps, she’d just assumed nothing would be more important than the birth of their grandchild. But she allowed her mother to draw her back in to conversation about the wedding.

They spent the afternoon shopping both for wedding goods and essentials that Agnes wanted to gift to Olivia. But as the afternoon progressed, the wind began to howl terribly. Keiran had been correct. A storm was coming.

Keiran sent her mother and Ainsley to secure four rooms at the inn, a trip home would be dangerous in such weather. “Agnes wants to stop and see the girl she bought the cradle from, but we’ll meet you at the inn in a few minutes,” he nearly yelled to her mother, handing her a coin purse.

Her mother nodded, content to let them go on their own, and Agnes marveled at her new freedom as an engaged woman.

It didn’t take but a minute to arrive at Olivia’s cottage, and Keiran knocked loudly on the door. Olivia answered, holding a toddler in her arms. “Miss Faulkenberry, ye’re here!” she near yelped. “I didnae expect ye in such weather.”

Rain began to patter down on them. “I apologize if we’ve come at a bad time. We didn’t know if you needed supplies before the storm.” Agnes held up a basket filled with flour, eggs, lard and other essentials. “I can come back and look at the furniture another time.”

“Let them in, Olivia,” A man’s deep voice called from inside the house.

It made Agnes shiver to hear it. While Olivia’s brother wasn’t unattractive, there was something in the way he’d stared at them their first meeting that made Agnes uncomfortable.

Olivia hesitated for a second as more rain began to fall, the wind near whipping it into Agnes’s face. Her own look mirrored Agnes’s uncertainty. But finally, the girl swung the door wider.

“What is your sister’s name?” Agnes asked, trying to cover the awkward silence that had fallen with some sort of conversation.

“Sophie,” Olivia answered as they moved into a small sitting room.

“I can hold her while you take the basket.” Agnes gave Olivia an encouraging smile, hoping to set the girl at ease.

Olivia slowly handed Sophie to Agnes as she took the basket. “Thank ye for these. Ye didn’t need to bring them. It wasn’t charity I was after.”

“Please don’t worry. It’s very admirable how you’re trying to raise your sister,” Agnes assured her.

“Ye might not think it so admirable if ye knew some of things we’d done,” her brother called from a dark corner. The sky had turned black, and the fire cast shadows about the room. Agnes tried, but couldn’t make out his details in this light. But a tremor of fear rumbled through her at the sound of his voice.

Chapter Eleven

“Many of us have made mistakes in moments of desperation,” Keiran rumbled next to her, his gaze piercing into the dark corner. While his words were comforting, she felt him tense. She held the baby tighter, her own breath hitching.

“Even shooting a man?” he said as he stepped into the light.

Quicker than Agnes could blink, Keiran pushed her behind his tall frame with his injured arm while he pulled a pistol from the holster around his kilt.

“Please don’t shoot my brother.” Olivia raced back into the room. “He didn’t mean tae do it.”

Agnes gave a start. Olivia had known about Keiran’s injury because her brother had given it to him.

Tom cleared his throat. “I don’t want to hurt ye. I didn’t want tae hurt ye then. But you raised your gun at me.”

She watched Keiran’s jaw tick. “Aye, I did. Ye were poaching.”

Tom nodded. “I’m a good hunter, but meat has been scarce, and it’s the only way I can feed them, Olivia and Sophie. After my da passed…” Tom trailed off. “I ken it isn’t right, but I didn’t know what else tae do.” Agnes could hear the desperation in Tom’s voice. Gone was the eerily quiet man she’d met last time.

Keiran was pushing her behind him as he slowly backed them toward the door. “Why were ye so quiet when we bought the cradle?” she called from behind Keiran.

“Honestly, I recognized ye, and I was worried ye had seen me that day I poached the sheep.” Tom dropped to his knees and put his hands in the air. “Please don’t leave with Sophie. I ken Olivia and I aren’t doin’ the best job, but she’s our family.”

“Did ye really want to sell us furniture?” Keiran asked.

Agnes peeked around Keiran again to see Tom shake his head while Olivia covered her mouth with her hands. “I wanted to confess. I ken ye’ll turn me in, but at least in the village I’ll get a trial. I was worried that on the estate I’d be shot on sight. I ken this is mad but I’d hoped ye hire Olivia when I’m gone. She’s keeps a clean house and she’s a good cook.”

“Hire Olivia?” Keiran’s voice was so quiet that Agnes couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Agnes found herself holding her breath, hoping he’d agree. She was a good girl, Agnes could feel it.

“Aye, she’ll need a way to support Sophie.” Tom sounded desperate as he pleaded one last time. “Please don’t take Sophie.”

Keiran let out a sigh and lowered the pistol. “I’m not takin’ yer sister, and I won’t fetch the constable.” Keiran gave her a quick glance backward. “I’ve recently been given a second chance at life, and I believe everyone deserves the same. Let me ask ye, were ye aimin’ fer my arm?”

Agnes started behind him. Was he talking about her?

Tom nodded. “I didnae want to kill ye, just keep ye from shooting me.”

“Well, ye’re a damn fine shot then, hitting me like that while under duress.” Keiran ran one of his hands through his hair. “After this storm has passed, come to Dumfries estate.”

“Why?” Tom asked.

Agnes attempted to see Keiran’s face. Was he forgiving Tom? It made her both light inside and a little worried. Tom seemed sincere, but he’d done real harm.

“Because, I might have a job fer ye.” Keiran stepped to the side and waved Olivia forward to get her sister. Agnes noted that Olivia now blocked her view of Tom. She wondered if Keiran had done that on purpose as a measure of protection.

How could she have ever doubted Keiran’s honor? Deep inside, she knew he would always keep her safe from harm. And to try to help Tom like this? Well, it was more than most men would ever do.

Once Olivia had Sophie, Keiran opened the door and pulled her out. He didn’t mean to be rough as he tugged and she was sure he was only trying to keep her safe. “Is he telling the truth?” she asked as they quickly made their way into the rain-soaked streets and to the inn.

“I think so,” Keiran said. “But I’ll find out more when yer not in harm’s way.”

Her mother was waiting for them with four hot plates of food when they arrived, rain-soaked, at the common room. “I secured the rooms,” she smiled. “Are you sure you don’t want me to just get three? Agnes and I are used to sharing.”

Agnes could see the muscles in Keiran’s jaw working. “That’s quite all right. Ye deserve a room of yer own, but thank ye for being so considerate.” He said to her mother. But he leaned down to quickly whisper in her ear. “It will be worth every coin I spend.”

Her mother beamed at them, completely unaware of what Keiran had just said. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell her mother what had happened. But she didn’t, not yet. There would be time for explanations tomorrow. Tonight, she wanted to hold her husband-to-be close, and once her mother found out about their incident with Tom, she’d sleep in Agnes’s room for sure.

* * *

Keiran was immensely glad that Agnes did not share the details of their adventure with her mother. After what had happened, he had every intention of sleeping in Agnes’s room with a loaded pistol by his side.

He still wasn’t sure he trusted Tom, but the boy had sounded sincere and his motives were noble. Someone that young could easily fall into a trap where breaking the law seemed the only option.

Would he have considered that before Agnes?

He doubted it. And while it had been done in the name of England, he’d done far worse than Tom. It made him shudder to remember.

Agnes saw his shake and she looked him up and down. “Are you all right? You’re not getting a fever are you?”

Always worried about him. Always caring for him. How had he ever thought he’d live life without her? It sounded awful. “I’m fine, love. Just thinking about the storm.”

Her mother rubbed her hands together. “It was wise to stay in the village rather than trying to travel back. How long do ye think we’ll be here?”

“Hopefully just the night,” Keiran answered. He was glad to have safe harbor from the storm, but he wanted to get back to Ewan’s estate. He wanted to share all that had happened with his friend. And frankly, wanted all of the ladies back under Ewan’s roof where they were more protected.

The ladies all ventured upstairs, and Keiran sat for a bit, waiting for them to settle in. As soon as enough time had passed, he walked up the stairs and passed his room to reach Agnes’s.

Finding the door locked, he knocked softly.

He heard the patter of her feet as she crossed to answer it. “Keiran?”

“Aye, love.” He’d no more than spoken before she turned the lock, opening the door to him.

He swept her into his arms as he softly closed the door and replaced the lock. She peppered his face with kisses and her warmth, her smell surrounded him, giving him that feeling of home he always felt when he was around her.

Carrying her to the bed, he winced as his injury gave a twinge. He’d have to be more careful for a few days yet.

“Keiran.” Her hands were sliding down his arms as though she were checking the damage.

“Curl up in bed, love.” He sat down on the edge. “There are some things I want to discuss with ye.”

“About tonight?” she bit her lips as she settled back as he’d asked.

With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair. “Partly.” He pulled the covers tighter over her and then took her hand. “I want ye to ken that I could forgive Tom because of ye. You’ve taught me kindness I thought lost to me, and love when I was sure I’d never have it again.”

She started to sit up, but he squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad you feel that way, but it was in you all along.”

“Perhaps. But it is also in me to do terrible things, Agnes. You were right to call me less than a gentleman. I did raise my gun at Tom, and I would have shot him without a thought.” He took a long steadying breath. He hated to tell her this. They might never be the same. She may not even want to marry him. “Tom, in some ways, is better than me for intentionally wounding me for self-protection. Not that poaching is right, but I understand what it means to be driven to do things ye never dreamed yerself capable of.”

Agnes stared at him with wide eyes, clutching at the blanket. She opened her mouth several times and then closed it again.

Finally, he spoke in her silence, “If ye don’t want me in yer bed, I’ll understand, but I’ll stay in the room. I still don’t trust the situation, and I’ll keep you safe no matter what.” Then he dropped his head into his hand.

He’d known what was deep inside of him, and he’d understood that it would be too much for a woman as pure and sweet as Agnes.

Somehow, he couldn’t regret his time with her. She’d brought him a glimpse of happiness he’d never thought he’d see again.

Her touch upon his brow startled him, and he jerked his head up to look at her. He couldn’t read her expression, which, he supposed, was better than seeing disgust etched upon her face.

“Of course, I want you in my bed.” She sat up on her knees and then pressed her forehead to his. “If ever a woman has been more foolish in declaring what constitutes a gentleman…” She stopped, giving her head a shake while leaning against him.

“Ye’re not foolish. There is real darkness in me,” he choked out the words.

“Many men have fought, killed, died. What about the men you fought with? What about Ewan? Do they not deserve marriage and a family?”

“Of course they do.” He brought his hand up to caress her cheek, like velvet under his calloused palm.

“So do you, Keiran.” She kissed him then, long and slow. “What I wanted was a man who would keep me safe. Keep us safe. Like tonight with the storm or the decision to stay at the inn. A man who won’t leave us to face the world alone.”

“I would never do that Agnes,” he pulled her closer. “In life, and beyond, I’ll make sure ye are cared for always.”

“I know you will.” She smiled as she kissed him again. “Now take off your clothes. I haven’t seen you without them in hours.”

A devilish grin played at his lips. “For a woman so pure, you’re rather wicked.”

Her night rail sailed over her head so that she was before him, resting on her knees, without a stitch of clothes. Her look was lusty as she helped him peel off his shirt. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, lass.” He kissed her fiercely as more of his clothing fell away. “It heats my blood.”

She stood on the mattress then, so her breasts were at the perfect height for him lavish attention on, which he did. “Then let’s agree. I will be a lusty wench.”

He pulled back then, to look at her as her eyes gleamed in the candlelight. “A lusty wench?”

“But only for you. If you agree to be a rogue, but only in our bed for me.”

He wrapped his arm about her waist and lowered her down onto his manhood as her legs locked around him. “I’ll be your rogue alone, no doubt about it. But is the bed negotiable?” He helped her set a rhythm. “Because I’ve several ideas that involve you and me, but no bed.”

She tossed her head back. “Oh, how I love my Scottish rogue.”

“I love ye, too, lass.” And he captured her lips again. He’d bared his soul to her, and she’d accepted him for who he was. He might be the luckiest man in all of Scotland.

Chapter Twelve

The next day dawned gray and rainy, but the wind had subsided. Keiran decided to use the break in the weather to return to Iverness. Agnes agreed. She was anxious be back with Clarissa and share all that had happened in the last day.

Due to the mud, it was a difficult journey back with the carriage but they finally arrived near dinnertime. Much of the family was assembled to greet them and after they said their hellos, Keiran pulled Ewan and Clarissa aside to share what had happened.

Ewan had looked skeptical as Keiran laid out his plan to hire the poacher. “Ye want me add the man who shot ye to the staff?”

Agnes couldn’t blame Ewan for feeling this way, though she applauded Keiran’s attempt to help the man.

“He’s desperate, and he didn’t want to hurt me. He was right, I was aiming right for him.”

“He lured you to his home through Agnes to tell ye what he’d done,” Ewan argued back.

Keiran grimaced. “Aye, he’s a hunter, fer sure. Ye might be right. And it’s yer home, so it’s yer decision. I’m just trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. It isn’t something I’ve been very good at since I came home.”

Ewan ran his hands through his hair. “He could work with the current gamekeeper on a trial basis. While the man has slowed down, he is still sharp in the mind and an excellent judge of character.”

Keiran gave a curt nod, but Agnes could see the relief in his shoulders. She reached over and held his hand. She was as relieved as him that Tom and Olivia would have a chance at a real life. And Ewan’s idea was a good one. It gave Tom a chance to prove he was of sound character.

As they said their goodbyes, Agnes and Keiran made to leave the room when a knock sounded at the door.

“Enter,” Ewan called, and the butler stepped into the room.

“My lord, the Lord and Lady Arbuthnott have arrived.”

Clarissa stood with a gasp. “My parents!”

All four of them swept through the halls, racing to the foyer. Relief made Agnes’s feet clumsy, but Keiran held her hand as they reached the landing above the entryway.

Then all four stopped.

Down below, Ainsley and Aunt Rhona stood with Clarissa’s parents, along with two more men Agnes didn’t recognize. The first was a gentlemanly type that Agnes might normally consider quite handsome: tall, broad, with dark hair and handsome features. He was not as handsome as Keiran, of course. The second had long, dark hair, and there was a reckless air about him. But what really gave her pause was the way Ainsley was assessing him. She looked spitting mad and completely riled in the most hectic sort of way.

He, in turn, was smirking, a lazy look of satisfaction marring what might have otherwise been perfect features.

“Oh, dear,” Agnes muttered.

“Indeed,” Clarissa added before they descended the stairs.

Clarissa’s parents rushed toward them, embracing her.

“We’re terribly sorry we missed it,” her mother cried as she hugged her again.

Her father cleared his throat. “Where is my grandchild?”

“Ava is sleeping.” Clarissa gave her father a glare. “What happened that you were so late?”

“Our ship was caught in that storm.” Her mother breathed. “If not for James, we’d have been lost.”

Agnes embraced her aunt too, and her gaze flitted to the man she hoped was not James. His smirk grew. As he brushed his overlong hair back off his shoulder, she knew without a doubt James was the hero. Oh, dear.

Ainsley flushed a deep shade of pink. Dear lord, it was somehow worse that the man was a hero.

“James?” Clarissa asked, turning to one of their new guests.

Her father gestured, toward the long-haired devil—Agnes could think of no other word to describe him. “Laird James McPherson, The Earl of Rotheport.”

The man looked absolutely sinful as his gaze flicked to Ainsley once again. “You forgot captain,” he said as he bowed to assembled guests.

“Quite right, my lord.” Her father nodded. “He’s seen us safely here. His ship also sustained some damage in the storm.”

“McPherson, you are welcome to stay here, of course. We owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“If it’s all the same to you, while I appreciate your offer, I’d be just as content to stay in a nearby village. The repairs will require me to keep long hours.”

Ewan grimaced. “The nearest village is at least an hour’s ride from here.”

“Then I would be honored to accept your offer of hospitality.” Lord Rotheport’s features remained stoic, the rigid lines of his body spoke of annoyance.

Ainsley gasped, and Clarissa pursed her lips.

“It’s the least I can do as you’ve saved my family.” Ewan cleared his throat.

“And this—” her father gestured to the other guest, “—is Lord Callum Tate, Earl of Blackwood.”

“We’ve met,” Ewan cut in as he stepped forward and saluted the man.

Keiran did the same. “It’s good tae see ye again.”

“You as well,” Lord Tate replied. “Glad tae see I’m not the only Scot that made it back from the war.”

“Nae, yer not,” Ewan shook his hand this time. Then he turned back to her uncle. “And what’s more, we’ve another announcement to make.” He gave Keiran a wink. “Keiran has asked for Agnes’s hand, and I’ve accepted on your behalf.”

Her father’s expression turned black as he assessed Keiran up and down. Agnes stepped forward. “Laird McKenna has generously gifted a plot of land to both you and mother to build homes in Scotland if you’d like.”

Her uncle’s features relaxed. “Well, I see there is much to discuss.”

James quirked a brow in her direction. “Agnes, is it? You must be quite the catch.”

Keiran growled behind her, his hand coming possessively to her waist. “That is none of your concern.”

James raised an eyebrow. “I simply mean that it is a generous gift.”

“Well, ye’ve an interesting way of putting it,” Keiran replied, his hand tightening.

James took note of the gesture. Agnes would have rolled her eyes if it wouldn’t have been impolite. It was silly for Keiran to be jealous. He was all she could see.

“Let’s move to a salon where we might be more comfortable.” Ewan cleared his throat. “Clarissa, why don’t you fetch Ava.” He kissed his wife’s forehead. “Once the introductions are made, the ladies can begin the arrangements for the wedding.

Clarissa nodded, heading up the stairs. Agnes sidled up to Ainsley. “Are you all right?”

Ainsley huffed. “What a brainless boar.”

“He’s only said three sentences, and yet I have to agree.” Agnes bit her lip to keep from saying more. This was exactly the sort of man Ainsley might normally find interesting, which means Blackwood must have said something to instantly insult Ainsley.

“Did you see that smirk?” Ainsley rolled her eyes.

Agnes gave Ainsley a wink and then linked arms with her. “The other is quite handsome. Lord Rotheport, was it?”

“Aye, he is. Mayhap not as handsome as Blackwood, but much more agreeable.” Ainsley murmured without commitment. While the comment made Agnes slightly suspicious, it was a relief that Ainsley wasn’t more interested in Blackwood. In the few minutes they’d been acquainted, Agnes was sure he wasn’t a man like Ewan or Keiran. Nothing but trouble would come from getting mixed up with the likes of him.

An hour later, the women sat together, and it had been decided to have the wedding within the month. The guests were already assembled. They only needed find someone to perform the ceremony. Agnes didn’t give a fig what she wore as long as Keiran was hers. She hoped that his conversation with her uncle was going as well.

“It’s going to be strange to not have you at the house.” Clarissa gave her hand a squeeze. “But it’s a dream come true to have you so close by.”

Agnes hugged her cousin. “I agree.”

Her mother beamed at her from across the room. “I’ll stay here, if it’s all right with you, Clarissa. I can help with the baby and give Agnes and Keiran some privacy.

Agnes said a little prayer of thanks. In no time at all, they’d begin their future together.

Epilogue

Agnes lay in the circle of Keiran’s arms and debated whether or not to wake him. It was quite early, and after the journey to see her cousin Emilia’s wedding, she knew Keiran was tired. They had been married for six glorious weeks, and now, at Christmastide, they had returned to Ainsley’s childhood home.

It also gave Haggis the opportunity to meet Ainsley’s new husband. A fact he didn’t seem that pleased about.

But Agnes had news of her own, and like Haggis, she wasn’t entirely certain how Keiran would take it.

She thought it best to deliver the news softly, so she slipped under the covers, thinking to wake him with a treat.

“Wife,” he growled low and deep. “What are you doing?”

She peeked her head out from under the covers and attempted to give him her most innocent face. “What do you mean?”

But he was already hauling her back up his body, his lips finding hers as their skin pressed together. “You need your rest. It has been a busy few days.”

She smiled as he continued to kiss her despite his words. “You’re likely right. Someone did keep me up dreadfully late.”

He ran his hand under the blankets, sliding down her back to cup her behind and press their two bodies together. “You’ll have to go back to sleep as soon as we’re done.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, that was until he slipped inside her, and then all laughter was done.

It was quick and heated, and when their passion was spent, she lay on top of him, her head nestled in the crook of his neck. “I’ve something to tell you.”

“Hmmmm,” he murmured, clearly having drifted back to sleep. “What is it?”

She cleared her throat and lifted her head, which made his eyes snap open to assess her. “Is something wrong, Agnes?”

“Not wrong, exactly.” She took a breath. “I know this quick, and perhaps you noticed, but I haven’t…” She cleared her throat again. “That is to say…I haven’t bled since our first time together nearly two months ago.”

He stared at her, not saying a word until a lump formed in her throat. He wasn’t happy. Unable to stand the silence any longer, she started to wiggle off of him, but he immediately caught her and held her against himself. “You think you’re with child?”

“Yes, maybe. I’ve never been this long without my monthlies, and I—”

But she couldn’t finish as his lips captured hers. “We’re going to have a baby. One of our very own?”

“Yes.” She gave him a tentative smile. “I believe that we are.”

Before she could say another word, he flipped her over onto her back and ran his hand along the flat of her stomach. “Oh, Agnes,” he whispered. “It’s better than I even dreamed it would be. A family of our own.”

Emotion was making his voice hoarse.

“I think so too,” she said.

Kissing her softly, slowly, he held her face between his hands. “You’ve made me the happiest man in all of Scotland.”

She trailed her finger down his cheek. “I’m not so sure. I think you’ve got some competition right here in this very castle.”

He laughed then but didn’t say another word as he kissed her, long and deep.

My Laird’s Seduction

A Laird to Love

Lady Ainsley McDougal stood on the drive of her cousin’s estate and watched the approaching guests, her head craning up to get a better view over the shrubbery that lined the drive. Finally something of interest was going to happen. At least she’d hoped it was about to. Anyone could be arriving in that carriage. Perhaps even eligible bachelors.

This trip to visit her cousin, Clarissa, and her husband, Ewan, the Earl of Dumfries, as they welcomed their new baby was supposed to have been a great adventure. Mainly because her father wasn’t in attendance. His watchful eye kept her from having any real fun.

It turned out, however, being at home was more exciting than this visit had been. They’d been at her cousin’s home with family and had only made a single visit into the village since she’d arrived. Dull. Except, of course, for the birth of Clarissa’s baby, Ava. When Ainsley looked at that tiny bundle, something peculiar happened to her insides: they melted like a pudding next to a flame.

As her aunt and uncle, the Baron and Baroness of Stillwater, exited their carriage, two other gentlemen filed out behind them. They piqued her attention. From this distance, all she could see was that they were tall, equally broad, and both had rather long hair for gentlemen. Maybe they weren’t gentlemen. A little thrill ran up her spine.

It wasn’t that she had any intention of acting other than a lady should. But she did like to dance at the edge of what was expected of her. It was exciting. Exhilarating, really.

She allowed her heels to come off the ground, trying to get a closer look at the two men as they stood waiting to greet the guests. Which would be her newest admirer?

Giving up trying to see them better, she looked down at herself instead to check her appearance. She’d changed into her most fashionable morning gown when she’d learned more guests were arriving, wanting to look her best.

But she forgot to factor in that there had been a storm the night before. The bottom of her skirt had wicked up ten stones of water, she was sure, and her hair was curling around her face in the most unappealing way. She could see the wisps out of the corner of her eye. She sighed heavily, thinking that this entire trip had been a washout. Hopefully, the recent weather wasn’t ruining her one chance at some fun.

“Stop fidgeting,” her mother gently chastised beside her.

Ainsley did as she was bid. Not so much because her mother had asked but because the men were easier to make out. The one on the right had longer, darker hair then the other. There was a dangerous swagger to the set of his shoulders that caught Ainsley’s notice. It was exactly the kind she liked.

Anticipation sizzled along her skin as she allowed her eyes to wander down his broad chest and narrow hips. Not that he looked thin. Not at all. He was just all muscle and strength.

Her eyes briefly flicked to the other man. He was bigger. Not taller, but more heavily muscled. The sway of the first man’s body drew her eyes again. It was mesmerizing.

She took a breath, and placed her prettiest smile upon her lips. She’d practiced it in the mirror before every dance she attended and knew it was perfect.

“Ainsley,” Aunt Millicent called, hailing her niece. Her father’s sister had always been one of her very favorite people.

She lifted her heavy skirts and made her way gingerly to her aunt. “Auntie,” she called as she nearly tossed the skirts to the side in order to reach for her aunt’s hands and then kiss her cheek. “So glad you made it.”

“Me too. It was quite the ordeal.” Her aunt squeezed her hands, a shadow crossing her face.

Ainsley wanted to ask what had happened but her aunt had stepped aside to greet Ainsley’s mother and her uncle came to kiss her cheek.

Her dratted skirt was tangling in her legs and she tried to shift its folds again, but it was near impossible as her uncle gestured to the two men behind him. “May I present Lady Ainsley McDougal.” Her uncle stepped back to allow her to give a slight curtsey, though she wobbled a little in the heavy skirts. Drat, what a mistake this had been. “Ainsley, this is Lord Callum Tate, Earl of Blackwood.” he gestured to the thicker, and in her opinion, less attractive man. “And this is Laird James McPherson, the Earl of Rotheport.”

Their eyes met and for a moment, Ainsley held her breath. His were golden brown pools of deliciousness filled with a warmth that near stole her breath in an otherwise hard-looking man.

He gave her a nod of acknowledgement, and without saying a word, began to follow her uncle.

Ainsley blinked. He was walking away from her? No smile, no greeting. Men did not treat her such. “Lord Rotheport,” she called, halting his slight on her.

“Yes, Lady Ainsley?” He turned back to her and this time he did hold a smile. But it wasn’t warm and pleasant like his eyes, rather it was smug. Like he’d known she would call him back.

Searching her mind, she attempted to come up with a plausible explanation as to why she’d addressed him. “Can you tell me what happened with my aunt and uncle?”

“I’m sure they will tell you themselves.” His eyes raked over her. But rather than seeming impressed by her appearance, his brow creased in clear disapproval. “But you should likely change first. It’s a watery tale and you’re already soaked.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.” Her back, already straight, snapped to attention at those words and the disapproval they implied. Who was he to judge her attire?

“Let’s just say it’s a good thing your aunt was more practically dressed. I’d never have been able to save her.” And then he followed her uncle to greet her mother.

“Well that…” she started, staring after him. “I mean it was just rude,” she huffed a breath. “Who does he think he is talking to?” If she’d thought him handsome, she’d been mistaken. There had never been a more arrogant, unattractive man to grace Scotland.

She heard a chuckle and turned to realize she had completely ignored the other gentleman. The one who hadn’t walked away or insulted her. The very tall, broad, and still attractive one. She dismissed the voice that claimed he wasn’t quite as handsome as Lord Rotheport. But as she went to greet him, she struggled to remember his name. “Forgive me, my lord.” She made another attempt at a courtesy and nearly fell again. His hand shot out to steady her at the elbow. His fingers were strong and pleasant as he held her in place. This was how a man should act.

“There is nothing to forgive,” he gave her a warm smile. “If it isn’t too forward of me, I’ll offer you my elbow to assist you back to the house.”

A genuine smile spread across her lips. “That is very kind of you.” she linked her hand into his arm. “It was silly of me to forget the storm. My dress has positively wicked up all the rain water.”

He nodded his head. “Storms are easier to forget when you are safely tucked into a warm house.”

“Was it last night’s storm that gave my aunt and uncle such trouble?” she asked, truly feeling silly then.

But he gave her a warm look of understanding. “No, my lady. It was another, earlier in the week. The weather is usually unpredictable as winter approaches but this year storm after storm is battering the sea.”

Ainsley sucked in her breath. No wonder they had been late. “Oh dear, thank goodness you came to my family’s rescue.”

“I can’t take the credit there. That was Captain McPherson.” He nodded to the dark-haired devil walking ahead of them.

“Captain? He is the captain of the ship despite being an earl and a laird?” She couldn’t quite keep the indignation out of her voice. No wonder the man thought he was so superior.

Lord— drat she couldn’t remember his name, chuckled again. “Quite right,” he replied as he helped her up the large stone steps. “Though, I call him captain because he was my regiment’s captain in the war.”

She wished she could roll her eyes. Did the man have to be so insufferably accomplished? How irritating.

As soon as they entered the entryway, her cousin-in-law, Laird Ewan McDougal, greeted them. Ainsley noted that Lord Rotheport was considerably more polite to the men. The cad.

Clarissa’s English cousin, Agnes, also joined the group with her intended, Laird Keiran McKenna. They’d only just gotten engaged. A little twinge of jealousy passed through Ainsley at the sight of the couple, Keiran’s gaze full of love as he looked at Agnes. She’d had scores of suitors, but none had ever looked at her with that depth of emotion.

She glanced to Lord Rotheport and noted that he was also assessing Agnes, but this time his eyes lit with something far more like approval. Her own irritation grew. What was it that Agnes had the she lacked?

Ewan stepped up to greet his wife, taking her hand in his and Keiran did the same with Agnes. He gave Lord Rotheport a glowering look as he wrapped his arm around Agnes’s waist. Ainsley hid a satisfied smile behind her hand. Keiran was a fierce man in his own right. In that moment she almost hoped that Lord Rotheport did attempt to flirt with Agnes. Keiran would surely give him his comeuppance.

“Later, my lady, you’ll have to explain to me who everyone is,” Lord something or other said next to her.

“Of course, my lord.” She nodded her head as the introductions began again. At least, as soon as these were done, she could retire to her room and change this infernal dress. Though she’d never admit that out loud and especially not in front of Lord Rotheport. While she’d only known him for a few moments, she hated that man.

* * *

James watched as the ladies made their way up the stairs, Lady Ainsley moving at the back of the group as she attempted to lift her sodden skirts out of the way to maneuver the steps. The other pretty blonde, Agnes, he thought he’d heard someone call her, hung back to help her, lifting the soggy fabric so she could walk. He bit back a laugh, he had to give the little hen credit on one account, she held her head high even as she struggled.

The dress, the ridiculous dress, did highlight every rounded curve of her sumptuous little figure and he noted that Callum had kept the little chit’s hand tucked in his elbow. Let him have that vane little hen. He knew her type. She’d strut around, showing her feathers just for the attention she got. He was all too acquainted with a woman like that. But he pushed the memory aside. It was best left alone.

His eyes drifted briefly to Agnes. She was the type of woman he was looking for. If he was even really looking. Which he hadn’t been. Not for a long time, anyhow. Even simple dalliances became too complicated for his liking.

He would marry someday, as was his obligation as Earl. Though his uncle, who had raised him, hadn’t taught him much, obligation was one virtue that had been instilled in him. Therefor he would marry someday, as was required, and that woman would be kind, sweet, hardworking, and above all, a committed mother. That was the most important trait.

But Agnes, it would seem, was not available. The eyes of Laird McKenna were trained on him and as he looked at the other man, McKenna’s gaze was hard, his stance wide, his arms crossed. There could be no doubting it, Agnes was his and he’d fight the man who tried to take her.

Which was fine with James. He wasn’t seriously considering marriage anyway. It was a far off notion, like old age, and retirement. Though not quite thirty years of age, technically he’d supposed he’d retired from the army already.

“It’s good to see ye again,” Callum clapped Ewan on the back and then Keiran.

“Ye as well,” Keiran answered, finally looking away.

“How do ye ken each other?” James asked.

Callum nodded at them. “We were in the same regiment until I was transferred to yers.”

“Christ,” Keiran murmured. “They sent all of Scotland to fight that war.”

James gave a small chuckle. He liked Keiran immediately. A man should stand strong and Keiran seemed like just that type. “Aye, they did.”

“How do ye fare?” Callum asked. “Finding yer way after all that?”

James noted the sadness hidden in that question. Callum didn’t talk about it very often but the war had left a weight upon him. James didn’t carry that same burden. His entire life had been difficult. War was just another chapter to him.

“Better every day,” Keiran’s answer did not brag. It was soft and full of promise. “Agnes has really helped.” Keiran’s eyes drifted back to James, some of the hardness, returning even as he spoke to Callum. “How about you?”

Callum didn’t answer immediately and when he did his answer was vague at best. “I’ve filled my time with one adventure after the other, thanks to Captain McPherson.”

James raised a brow. “Filled yer time?”

Callum groaned in response. “Do not tell me yer big oaf feelings have been hurt. It’s not like I’ve done what Keiran or Ewan have. This one with a baby…” he pointed at Ewan. “And the other newly betrothed.”

James raised his brows in surprise. Callum had never mentioned wanting a wife or a family, though it was obvious now.

“Speaking of betrothals.” Lord Clearwater cleared his throat and turned to Keiran. “I can assume that in my absence you reached an agreement with Lord Dumfries.”

“I did, my lord.” Keiran shifted from one foot to the other looking to Ewan.

Ewan gave a knowing grin. “Keiran has graciously offered a parcel of land located where our two properties meet for both you and Agnes’s mother to build homes on if ye’d like.”

Keiran took a partial step forward. “I will build Mrs. Faulkenberry’s home, my lord.” He cleared his throat. “But with both Agnes and Clarissa here, we thought ye might like a place of yer own to stay.”

James tried not to roll his eyes. Though he had met Agnes for just a few short minutes, she did seem like a woman with fine qualities. Still, Keiran seemed to be going through a great deal of effort. Giving up land, building her mother a home. Bloody hell, men became ridiculously foolish over love.

Lord Clearwater gave a curt nod. “We can discuss the details when I review the contract. For the moment, we’ve a more pressing matter to discuss.”

Keiran made a face. “My marriage is a pressing matter.”

Now it was getting interesting. While he didn’t like watching a man twist himself in knots over love, he did enjoy watching him fight for it.

The baron did not answer as he turned back to Ewan. “Captain McPherson’s ship was damaged in the storm. He’ll need time to repair it.”

“Of course,” Ewan gave a curt nod. “Let’s continue this conversation in the library, shall we?” He gestured up the stairs as he turned and started up them.

The other men followed behind, and James had a look around. It was a gracious home, but he could see that things were a bit tarnished. Worn at the edges.

He rather liked it. It added an air of comfort to the place but it also showed that the earl’s finances were likely strained.

It was surprising only because the baron was well known for his financial success. He would have expected Clarissa’s dowry to be ample.

James suppressed another grin. This visit got more interesting by the moment.

They entered the library and Ewan crossed to a cabinet on the far side of the room. Opening the doors, he reached in and pulled out a decanter and several crystal glasses. He didn’t ask any of the men if they’d like one, he simply filled them with a lovely amber whisky and then passed them about. Raising his cup, he toasted the men. “To Ava.”

The others each raised their glasses in response. “To Ava,” the replied. James remained silent.

Ewan drained his glass and then turned to James. “Lord Rotheport,” he began.

“Just Rotheport, or better yet, McPherson, if you please.”

“What is it with you Scots and your surnames?” Lord Clearwater rolled his eyes.

Ewan ignored his father-in-law, though James saw his fingers tighten upon his glass. “McPherson, you are welcome to stay here, of course. We owe you a debt of gratitude.”

James waved his hand. “If it’s all the same to you, while I appreciate your offer, I’d be just as content to stay in a nearby village. The repairs will require me to keep long hours.”

Ewan grimaced. “The nearest village is at least an hour’s ride from here.”

Hell and damnation. He silently cursed. “Then I would be honored to accept you’re offer of hospitality.”

Ewan gave a nod but James saw his lips turn down and he bit back a sigh. If Ewan didn’t want him here, he shouldn’t have offered.

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Tammy Andresen lives with her husband and three children just outside of Boston, Massachusetts. She grew up on the Seacoast of Maine, where she spent countless days dreaming up stories in blueberry fields and among the scrub pines that line the coast. Her mother loved to spin a yarn and Tammy filled many hours listening to her mother retell the classics. It was inevitable that at the age of 18, she headed off to Simmons College, where she studied English literature and education. She never left Massachusetts but some of her heart still resides in Maine and her family visits often.

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“The characters are well-developed and interesting, the plot is edge-of-your-seat intriguing, and the setting is one with so much history. If you are a fan of history mixed with mystery and intrigue, you won't be disappointed.” Linda Thompson THE AUTHOR SHOW

“While the relationship between Lily and Eric is the primary focus of this story, the mystery/supense factor is what kept this from being JUST a historical romance. Lily in Bloom was a fast-paced, romantic read that I absoutely LOVED.” http://alysenovak.blogspot.com

”…  it held not only a pure romance but the simple magic that goes with it. I was enchanted with this story from the beginning until the end and I didn’t want it to end. I wanted it to go on.” Robin

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