The Highlander's Accidental Marriage (Marriage Mart Mayhem) (17 page)

Chapter Eighteen

I
t was drawing near the end of their week in Inverness. Sarah had never been to the city at the mouth of the River Ness, and Braeden took a great deal of pleasure in showing her the area.

She’d purposely left her writing at the cottage. As lovely a setting as Inverness was for inspiration, she’d decided to give herself a true holiday. No disastrous road trip like before, no scrunching over paper and pen. Just the two of them enjoying what might very well be their last trip together.

She tried very hard to push that thought from her mind.

Soon she would have to tell him about her commitment in London. But for now, she wanted to pretend all was well. There was no expected letter for the expedition to Rome, no missive from her publisher on a book release demanding her attention in London.

They’d spent the week visiting shops and enjoying walks along the river. Sarah devoted the mornings to lying in bed, enjoying chocolate and oat cakes, and reading the morning newspaper. Braeden bought her several novels that she read while he met with a professor friend who also had an interest in early Roman civilization.

Then after a leisurely bath and dressing for the day, she was ready to meet her husband to see the sights. He was smart, attentive, humorous, and a wealth of information. The nights were even better. Braeden drew forth pleasure from her body she had never dreamed of. The pictures in Drake’s book took on new meanings, and her blushes each morning as she greeted him in the light of day only brought deep chuckles from her husband.

Had she wished to be married, there could not have been a better man for her. Which, of course, was the problem.

Over a late dinner on the final night in Inverness, Braeden sipped brandy as he explained Scottish history. With one of his slim fingers running along the edge of the glass, he stared at the fireplace reflectively. “After the Battle of Culloden, the British reduced the power of the clan chiefs. That made it possible for outsiders to acquire a great deal of Scottish land.”

She’d never known much about what her country had done to the Highlanders. It most likely had been covered by her governess, or perhaps in classes when she had attended Miss Baker’s School for Young Ladies. But if it had, it would have been brief. The focus of the school had been on how to prepare oneself for life within the station into which the young ladies had been born.

Braeden continued. “These new owners
evicted thousands of crofters, and that became known as the Clearances. Instead of small tenant subsidy farmers, they created large sheep-farming estates. That was when many left the Highlands for the Lowlands and America.”

“Yet your family and the MacBrides seem to have survived.”

His lips quirked in a slight smile. “Partially. We lost some land, but the area of the Highlands we occupy was not as appealing to the Sassenach.”

Sarah nodded. “Ah. That was the name Liam called Sybil that started their disagreement. My sister broke their betrothal and left Bedlay to return home. The laird followed her.”

“Aye. I’ve heard the story from Duncan.
’
Tis quite a tale.” He took a sip of his brandy and studied the glass. “But for the most part, my cousin kept his clan intact, and the crofters who Duncan couldn’t find work for left for America. My brothers share their sheep farming, and my parents and sisters work at the castle.”

“And you teach at university.”

He regarded her cautiously. “And, hopefully, about to be part of a team on an expedition to Rome.”

“Perhaps.” Even though she had fought it, by the end of this trip she could no longer deny that she was deeply in love with her husband. If they continued to live together, especially with his wit, charm, and seductive ways, all that she had fought for would be lost.

No, as soon as his letter came she would be off to London, where Braeden could stop by to visit between excursions.

“W
hat’s the matter, love?” Braeden used his thumb to wipe a tear from the edge of Sarah’s eye. Even though he’d thought they’d had a wonderful time on this trip, Sarah had seemed melancholy toward the end. Almost as if something were ending instead of them having the rest of their lives together. If anything had convinced him of the rightness of his marriage, it had been this time spent together. They suited.
’
Twas as simple as that. The timing, and the way it had happened might not have been ideal, but there was no denying how well it had turned out.

The minor problem of dragging her around with him needed to be addressed, but he loved the lass, and although neither had spoken the words aloud, he kenned she loved him as well. It would be a good life.

“Are ye sad that our time here is over?”

She nodded, but looked away, avoiding his eyes which made him wonder if
’
twere something else. They’d just finished another rousing session of lovemaking, and he was feeling quite drowsy. Despite his earlier reservations, he’d never acquired the French letters. Using something with his own wife that was generally reserved for mistresses seemed verra wrong. Hopefully, his seed didn’t take, and they would not have the problem of raising a bairn in Rome.

He pulled Sarah’s warm body against his and yawned. “We will need to be up early, lass, so I suggest we get some sleep.”

“Yes. That’s a good idea.” She rolled over and turned her back to him, and he tugged her closer, the two of them tucked together like spoons in a drawer. Nuzzling the soft skin of her nape, he gave her a few soft kisses and then drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, Braeden felt the warmth from the sun bathing his face before he opened his eyes. Sunlight peeked over the edge of the windowsill, casting the room in an ethereal glow. Sarah had turned during the night and was now plastered over him, her bent leg bringing her knee very close to his morning erection. Her arm rested over his waist, and her bedtime braid had come loose, causing her silky locks to drape over his chest. He eased back and gazed down at her beloved face while he held her in his arms, and decided right then he would enjoy waking up, just this way, every morning for the rest of his life.

As much as he would enjoy staying like this for hours, they needed to get started on their journey home. Now that their time here had ended, he was anxious to know if the letter had finally arrived.

“Lass,
’
tis time to get up.” He kissed the soft hair on the crown of her head.

Sarah shifted and mumbled.

Unable to help himself, he slid his hand between them and caressed the warm breast crushed against his chest.

Sarah sighed and murmured his name.

Smiling, his hand moved farther down to tease the soft flesh between her legs.

Sarah pushed against his fingers and moaned.

“Darlin’, if ye don’t get your lovely arse out of this bed, we’ll be here for another hour, and we need to get on the road.”

Her eyes popped open and she laughed. “I wasn’t asleep. I wanted to see how far you would go.”

“Aye. I can tell ye how far I want to go, but we’ll have to save that for another time.” He patted her gently on her bottom. “Up with ye, now.”

She rolled off him and stretched. “I shan’t be long. Alice got everything ready last night. After a quick wash, I will have her help me dress, and we can have breakfast and go.”

“
Ach
, no need to have Alice help ye. I can be yer lady’s maid this morning.”

She smirked. “Just keep in mind that you are helping me dress, not undress.”

“I will try my best, lass.” He winked at her and hopped from the bed.

After only a bit of touching and fondling while he helped Sarah dress, they made their way to the dining room for a light breakfast before leaving the inn. Alice supervised the loading of the trunks, and within an hour of rising they were saying good-bye to Inverness and headed home.

Home. Where he hoped at long last, good news awaited him.

He really should have a conversation with Sarah about what the expedition would mean for them, something he kept putting off. He had sensed her reluctance from the start, and rather than ruin the closeness they’d enjoyed on this trip, he would speak with her about it soon.

Verra soon.

She would have to make several decisions. Of course she would come with him, but would she insist on bringing her maid? And where would they live? The few expeditions he’d been on when he’d been a graduate student had been headed and staffed by single men, so there had been no women in the group.

It would probably be best to write to the committee when the information came through to see what provisions could be made for married persons. He remembered talking to an older professor at university who brought his wife and children on his expeditions. He had said whatever difficulties his wife had run into, she’d been able to straighten out.

He had confidence in Sarah. She had a good head on her shoulders and would handle whatever challenges they faced.

S
arah stared out the window as the carriage pulled up to the stone cottage on McKinnon land. She breathed a sigh of relief, more than happy to be free of the coach. With delays due to the weather, they’d spent several days on the journey home.

Braeden extended his hand to help her out, then wrapped his arm around her waist as her legs started to give out.

“’Twas a long journey.”

“Yes. I’m afraid I feel as though I’ve been rocking back and forth for hours.”

Feeling stronger, Sarah moved away from Braeden and started up the stairs toward the bedchamber. “Alice, please have a bath set up for me. I feel grimy from the road.”

She’d barely closed the door when there was a whoop from Braeden and the sound of his footsteps pounding the stairs.

“Sarah! The letter arrived while we were gone.” He burst into the room, waving a piece of foolscap, a wide grin on his face.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her mouth open. So the time had come. Relief mixed with an overwhelming sense of sadness gripped her. Their time together was almost over. He would go on his expedition, and she would start her new life in London as an author. It was what she’d worked toward for years and was for the best.

She wanted to be her own person, not known only as Professor McKinnon’s wife.

She worked up a slight smile. “It appears from your enthusiasm that you were granted a place on the expedition.”

“Aye.” He ran his fingers through his hair and looked as though he wanted to jump up and down like a child.

“Congratulations. I’m sure you will do a wonderful job.”

His expression grew serious. “I know we just arrived, and ye are tired of being in the carriage, but I’m afraid we will have to leave within the next few days. I have a great deal of work to do before we go, so ye will have to prepare whatever it is ye think ye will need on yer own.

“I really dinna ken what type of clothing ye need, but I’m sure there are shops in the village not too far from where we will be outside of Rome.” He glanced down at the paper, smiling again. “’Tis times like this that I wished I had a valet to prepare that part of it for me.”

“I’m not going.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

“The professor I met with in Inverness had been on an expedition with a man who had his wife with him. He gave me some ideas of how this will all work—”

Sarah cleared her throat. “I’m not going, Braeden.”

He stopped and stared. “What do ye mean?”

She took a deep breath, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible. Then she could retire to her sister’s house and cry her eyes out. “I have my own commitments. In London.”

His eyes narrowed. “What are ye talking about?”

She stood and paced, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry. I should have told you long before now, but the time never seemed right.” She stopped and drew in a deep breath. “I am about to have a book published, and my publisher insists on me being there.”

The paper in his hand drifted to the floor as he stared at her, his mouth open, his eyebrows drawn together. “What?”

“It’s simple, really.” Unable to stand still, she resumed her pacing. “All that writing that I do. I’m sorry, but I lied to you. That writing wasn’t in a journal, it is another book that my publisher is waiting for.”

Braeden shook his head in disbelief. “You wrote a book?”

“Yes.”

“What type of book?”

She raised her chin, her eyes narrowing. “Why?” This was the point in their conversation she had always dreaded. Her heart pounded and she hugged her middle. Here was where he would laugh and dismiss her work.

“Because I…I want to know.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “Romance.”

Braeden opened and closed his mouth several times. She held her breath, waiting for laughter. Finally, he grinned. “That’s wonderful.”

She blew out the breath she held. “You think so?”

“Of course I think so.
’
Tis verra hard to write a book. To make up a story from beginning to end and write it all down.
’
Tis a great accomplishment, and I’m verra proud of ye.”

Sarah burst into tears.

“What’s the matter, lass?” He pulled her into his arms and held her close as tears of relief fell.

“I thought you would laugh at me.”

He drew back and regarded her. “I thought ye kenned me better than that. I have a great deal of respect for books and the authors who write them.”

“Even romance?” She giggled.

“Even romance, love.” He patted her on her backside. “Now hurry yerself upstairs and get yer packing done. We don’t have much time to prepare for Rome.”

“What?”

“We have a lot to do before we leave. I won’t have time to learn what accommodations will be made for ye before we leave, so we best be prepared for anything.”

“Wait a minute.” Sarah waved her hand in front of his face to get his attention. “I just told you, I’m not going with you to Rome.”

“Why not?”

“Braeden, I know you have a lot on your mind, but you can’t tell me you forgot the conversation we just had about my book.”