Love Me Forever (10 page)

“I
tell you I don’t care! I want the Scotsman, Mother. I’m sick and tired of hearing what
you
want!”

Kimberly had just entered the breakfast room when Jane Carlyle had started her screeching. And screeching it was. It was likely she’d been heard as far away as the stables. And everyone in the room, at least fifteen of the current guests, the Scotsman included, was a little bit in shock over this unprecedented outburst from what had previously appeared to be the perfect lady.

There was a cough, then another, then an outright snicker. And into the silence that followed, a Scottish brogue drawled thickly, “I’m thinking the Scot may have something tae say aboot it.”

Conversation burst forth now from everyone at the table in an effort to pretend that little outburst hadn’t happened. Jane, standing at the sideboard with her mother where a buffet was laid out, glanced back at the table with a look of bewilderment, as if she weren’t even aware of what
she’d done. Her mother certainly was though. Red-faced, the lady grasped her daughter’s arm and marched her out of the room. Kimberly just barely got out of the way before they bowled her over.

The conversation returned to a normal level as soon as they were gone. And Edith, that little nitwit, said in her usual loud tone, “But I thought she was sweet-tempered. Her mother said so.”

Kimberly happened to meet Lachlan’s gaze at that moment, and almost burst out laughing when he rolled his eyes. She restrained the laugh, fortunately. She would have been mortified if she hadn’t under the circumstances. But it was impossible to keep from smiling, briefly, and that audacious man winked at her.

Moving on to the buffet now, which had been the standard setup each morning since the house had filled up with so many guests, Kimberly passed Jane’s brother at the end of the table and heard him remark to Christopher in a snide aside that shouldn’t have been overheard, “I could’ve told you what a little bitch she is. My father’s always said the same about my mum. It’s been bloody hell living with the two of them all these years, I don’t mind saying.”

Monica’s brother, to give him credit, appeared embarrassed to have been given that confidence. Kimberly tsked to herself and mentally crossed Hector Carlyle off her list. Telling tales about his own family…

Having heard that, however, she actually felt sorry for Jane. A man might not mind at all that his wife was a bit dense, might even prefer it that way, to assure himself that he was more intelligent. But most men didn’t want a wife with an
uncontrollable temper, which could be socially embarrassing.

It wasn’t surprising that Jane’s mother, poor woman, packed her daughter off that very afternoon. Jane had ruined her chances with the crop of eligibles at Sherring Cross. It was just too bad that they hadn’t taken Hector with them.

There were two activities planned for that afternoon. The duchess was heading an excursion to the nearest pond for some ice-skating for those who enjoyed the outdoors in fair weather or foul. And for those who didn’t, there would be charades in the parlor.

Kimberly elected to go ice-skating. It was a difficult decision to make, and made finally because she simply didn’t like charades and
did
like ice-skating. But what with Megan chaperoning the excursion, it was guaranteed that Lachlan would also be there.

Finally, she simply determined to enjoy herself despite his presence. Besides, she’d purchased a new winter coat in London, one much more fashionable that conformed nicely to her figure, and she hadn’t had much opportunity to show it off. And she was rather good at ice-skating, it being something she and her mother had enjoyed doing together.

And Megan had a large selection of skates in all sizes on hand, as well as providing wood-burning stoves to be set up along the bank of the pond for when the cold got to be too much. A number of servants had also come along to roast a continuous supply of chestnuts for treats, and there were mugs of hot chocolate, and warmed spiced brandy for the gentlemen.

Kimberly was rather surprised that Howard Canston didn’t come along, as athletic as he was, and surprised yet again that James did, especially when she learned that he’d never worn a pair of skates in his life. But she had a rousing good time trying to teach him, even when she ended up on her backside several times because he couldn’t find his balance. She had to admire him though, for he was absolutely determined to get it right. He even elected to continue practicing when she headed in for some hot chocolate and a little heat from one of the woodburners.

Kimberly joined John and Monica, but they returned to the ice after only a few minutes of excited chatter. She’d been out there too long herself without a break though, so the burner was welcome, and she took her hands away from it only long enough to wave to James each time he passed. He didn’t much take his eyes off the ice though, so he didn’t notice.

Megan was skating between a pair of her older guests, their arms all locked together. Quite a few people had elected to come along for this outing, including several families with young children. And Lachlan…

Kimberly had no sooner been handed a mug of chocolate by one of the servants than the fellow was called over to another burner. And the minute she was completely alone, Lachlan came to a perfect stop on the edge of the pond and climbed the low bank to join her.

“Faith, but you looked fair enchanting out there, darlin’,” he remarked as he removed his gloves to extend his hands toward the fire.

For some reason his compliment warmed her even more than the fire did and she blushed be
comingly. But that seemed to be a regular occurrence when this man was around. And she assumed he was referring to her ice-skating skill, since she was certainly not looking her best after those two falls. Her coiffure had come undone with the second fall, the pins scattering on the ice, and it had been pointless to even try and put her hair back in order.

But she was pleased enough to say, “Thank you, I’ve been skating since I was a child.”

She ought to return the compliment, since he was quite skilled himself. But she refrained. Saying so would be admitting she had covertly watched him, when that was the last thing she wanted him to know.

But he surprised her by correcting her assumption. “’Twas your hair I was admiring, Kimber. All loose and flowing about you like that, it reminds me…”

He didn’t finish—deliberately. He didn’t have to. And her blush turned scalding. She couldn’t believe that he would mention their lovemaking all these weeks later. She, despite her wish to the contrary, thought about it frequently, too damned frequently actually. But he should have all but forgotten it by now.

And then, as had been typical of him in each of their last encounters, he said completely out of the blue, “Why are you encouraging him? He’s old enough tae be your da.”

She didn’t pretend to wonder whom he meant. “What has that to do with anything?” she asked him. “And he’s far from
old
, Lachlan. James is in the prime of his life, perfectly healthy, physically fit, and women find him very attractive, myself included. Or is it that you don’t think two people
of widely differing ages can have anything in common? I’d have to disagree there, since James and I have already discovered a wealth of things we share an interest in.”

He mumbled something under his breath before he grouched, “But can his kisses make you forget yourself, darlin’? Does he fire you with passion the way I do?”

It took every ounce of will she had to keep from blushing yet again and to reply in a thoughtful tone, “Hmmm, I don’t know, he hasn’t kissed me yet. Perhaps I should find out. But I would imagine, considering he’s had more years to practice that sort of thing, that he’d be quite good at it by now.”

“Then let me refresh your memory, so you can make a better comparison—”

“Don’t you dare!” she hissed. “Are you mad? We’re not alone here.”

He was grinning widely, now that he’d managed to disturb her. “Och, what a pity. But I suppose I can wait until we are alone.”

She gasped. “The devil you will—I mean, you can get any notions of kissing me again right out of your head, Lachlan MacGregor. I won’t be allowing it, and besides, why ever would you want to?”

“Kiss a beautiful woman?” He smiled. “Did I no’ warn you how fond I am of doing that?”

It occurred to her then that he was teasing her. She might have realized it sooner if she were used to being teased, but she wasn’t. Her reserved nature pretty much kept people from taking that liberty with her. But Lachlan was a bold devil. Just because she didn’t seem teasable, that wouldn’t stop him. And she wished she could figure out
exactly when the teasing had actually started, and how much of what he’d just said he really meant.

For his efforts, though, she gave him a sour look. “Yes, you did warn me, and I’m sure you’ve been quite busy of late doing just that, with so many beautiful women around. And I wonder now if that isn’t why Jane lost her temper this morning with her mother, that she was so set on having you because you’d turned her head with a few kisses.”

He snorted. “That little paragon of exactitude? I dinna trust a lass wi’ no apparent faults, and rightly so, as ’twas proved that lady has at least one fault in the extreme.”

“I have a temper myself,” she reminded him, trying to tamp down her relief that he hadn’t been interested in Jane at all. “But that didn’t stop you from—”

“You’ve got spirit and courage, darlin’. There’s a big difference there, if you dinna see it.”

Of course she blushed again. The man was really doling out
too
many compliments her way lately, and she wished she knew why. Was he trying to make amends to her? A few compliments could hardly make up for one’s lost virtue, and she had yet to even face the consequences, when she would be forced to tell whomever she married. But then some men tended to be quite illogical in their thinking, so he
might
assume he was clearing his conscience in that fashion.

“Well—Jane wasn’t the only beautiful woman around lately,” she pointed out. “So I imagine you’ve still been busy. Lady Edith—”

“Hasn’t enough sense tae ken when she’s being a twit,” he was quick to cut in. “She’d drive a
mon tae drink in a matter o’ days wi’ her witless chatter.”

She almost nodded, since that had been her opinion as well. But she was having to deal with contradictory emotions, annoyance that he was shooting down each point she was making, and delight that two of the women she’d been so sure he would court hadn’t interested him at all.

But there wasn’t a thing he could say against Monica Elgar. Even Kimberly had been drawn into liking her, she was such a nice person. And she
did
want Lachlan to admit he’d been kissing someone else. She wouldn’t like hearing it, but she was sure that knowing it would help her to stop thinking about him so much.

So she said, “What about Lady Monica?”

He sighed at that point. “If you didna notice, Kimber, that lady is no’ more’n five feet tall, if even that. Every time I’m near the lass, I get the urge tae lift her up on my hip like a wee child.”

In exasperation, she asked, “Then who have you been kissing?”

“As it happens, darlin’, no one.”

She blinked. “Why not?”

“Perhaps I’m waiting for you tae come tae your senses and have me.”

Her heart skipped a beat. And just as quickly, her temper shot up. Teasing again, and this time she really didn’t appreciate his humor. Obviously, he just wasn’t going to tell her whom he was amusing himself with now while he continued to pine over the duchess.

She took a sip of her chocolate, then set it down to put her gloves back on. “Well, if that were true, Lachlan,” she said with a tight little smile, “I’d
probably suggest you hold your breath while you’re waiting.”

For an insult, it surely missed the mark. He laughed.

“When you get angry like that, darlin’, d’you ken your eyes flash wi’ green fire? ’Tis verra tempting.”

“Tempting?”

He sighed. “You’re still an innocent in many ways, I’m thinking. Run now, lass, or I’ll be kissing you here, wi’ no care for who’s watching.”

She hadn’t understood what he meant by tempting, because he hadn’t said how she was apparently tempting him. For all she knew, he could have meant tempting him to clobber her. But she understood that last well enough. And although running in skates on a snow bank was hazardous, she managed to get back on the ice quickly.

That his chuckle followed her as she hurried away put her in a rotten mood for the rest of the day. Had he only been teasing her again? She wondered about that later, when it was too late to find out.

“I
’m thinkin’ we should’ve stole his fancy stallion when we had the chance tae,” Gilleonan remarked in a grumbling tone as he and Lachlan stopped to watch a pair of young thoroughbred horses being exercised in the training yard attached to the closest stable. “’Tis no’ as if he would’ve missed it, as many’s he’s got here and even more breedin’ each year. And it would’ve fetched a fair price.”

“No’ so loud,” Lachlan admonished.

He glanced to Gilleonan’s right, where a couple of the other houseguests were leaning against the fence, also admiring the pair of young horses being put through their paces. The other guests weren’t actually close enough to have heard Gilleonan, and they certainly weren’t paying attention. As far as Lachlan could tell, they were deep in a discussion themselves about the prize thoroughbreds bred and sold here at Sherring Cross.

Still, he moved down along the fence a few more feet, tugging his cousin with him, before he
added, “There was no point tae stealing his horse, Gill, when he would’ve took it back same as he took the lass back. Besides, I dinna steal horses, and well you ken it.”

It was the Duke of Wrothston they were discussing, and the horse he’d had with him the day Lachlan and his cousins stopped his coach to rob it, and Lachlan took off with Megan instead of the money they’d been after. Lachlan was beginning to wish he’d stayed home that day.

“Och, well, ’twas just a thought,” Gilleonan admitted. “Though all in the same thought, I’m thinkin’ ye’re no’ takin’ this wife-findin’ business seriously.”

Lachlan raised an auburn brow at his friend. “And just where does horse stealing and wife finding have anything a’tall in common?”

“Ye dinna see it?” Gilleonan replied. “Why, in the money they’d both bring, which is the reason we’re here, or have ye forgotten that again?”

It was the question, not the answer, that brought a frown to Lachlan’s brow. “Tell me something, Gill? Is it that you dinna think I take my responsibility seriously? Or d’you just feel a need tae complain more often wi’ us living among the Sassenachs?”

Gilleonan at least looked suitably embarrassed now and even sighed. “It mun be the latter, aye, it really mun be, especially after bein’ here well nigh a month now. Has no one caught yer fancy then, now that ye’ve come tae yer senses and give up on the duchess?”

Lachlan’s expression changed to one of vexation and he mumbled, “Aye, one lass has.”

“Faith, why did ye no’ say so? When will ye be proposin’ then?”

“I already did.”

“And?”

“She willna have me.”

Gilleonan snorted. “That’s no’ the least bit funny, Lachlan. Any lass would be pleased tae—”

“Except this one.”

Gilleonan paused. “Ye’re serious?”

“Aye.”

“She—ah, had another commitment then?”

“Nay, she just doesna like me.”

Gilleonan almost chuckled at Lachlan’s look of vexation but managed to restrain himself, just, and shook his head instead. “Och, well, ’tis lucky we are that there be more lassies showin’ up here nearly every day, thanks tae yer aunt’s efforts. Ye’ll find another, Lachlan. ’Tis heartenin’, though, truly, that ye
are
gettin’ serious aboot it finally, and have put aside yer feelings for the duchess for the sake o’ the clan.”

Lachlan snorted to himself now. Put aside his feelings? That certainly hadn’t been very difficult to do, when all things considered, it should have been extremely hard. And that made him wonder if Megan hadn’t been right.

Had he been deluding himself all along about his feelings for her, wanting her only because she was so beautiful, and because she’d escaped from him before he’d had a chance to charm her? Or did the fact that she and the duke had a child, and a son at that, change his mind?

That child did make a world of difference, especially since a duke would never give up his heir, and rightly so. Lachlan could never be so cruel as to take a mother away from her child, no matter his own feelings about the lass. But he gave up trying to figure out what those feelings
had been. They simply were no more, as if they had never been.

Odd, though, that he had no trouble figuring out his feelings where the other lass was concerned. Anger was hard to mistake, and that’s what he’d been experiencing more and more of late, and in particular, when he saw Kimberly enjoying herself with other men.

It wasn’t jealousy—well, it couldn’t be. Most times he felt annoyed when she was with James Travers, laughing, dancing, partnered with him in a game of cards, or just in quiet conversation. But Travers was a man in his middle years. Lachlan couldn’t possibly be jealous of a man nearly twice his own age. That was ludicrous. And besides, when had he ever been jealous of anything? Never that he could recall, so it obviously wasn’t in his nature to be bothered by that silly emotion.

Yet he couldn’t deny his anger. It was there, and wouldn’t seem to go away, no matter how much he ignored it. The most likely reason for it was that the lass had refused to marry him. His pride must have been sorely pricked by that. First Megan wouldn’t take him seriously, then Kimberly, after showing plainly that she wanted him, refused to have him permanently. When had he
ever
had such rotten luck with women? Never. And that had to be why he was having such difficulty in dealing with it.

It was really too bad, though, that he’d put aside his pursuit of Megan after he’d seduced Kimberly, rather than beforehand. If he could have handled that whole matter with her differently, if he hadn’t been still foolishly thinking it was Megan he really wanted, he might have been
successful. But he’d been thinking that Kimberly was just a temporary diversion. Some diversion.

She was the one he couldn’t stop thinking about before or after that one glorious night with her. So it wasn’t all that surprising that the moment he’d finally decided to get serious about finding a wife, he’d thought of her. But it was too late. He’d burned his bridges there. She’d made it perfectly clear she wouldn’t have him.

Yet when had that ever stopped him from going after something he really wanted? Aye, he still wanted her. Faith, but she felt so right in his arms, the few times he’d managed to get her there. It was a unique experience, that rightness, something he’d never felt before. And he wanted to know it again and again.