A Scottish Lord for Christmas Page 9

Blair squirmed as Rowena set her down inside the nursery. The old nurse was seated in an armchair in the corner by a fire, snoring. Rowena and Kenna shared a look before both of them stifled giggles.

  “She’s a dear, I promise, but she was Quinn’s and mine and we’re all grown now. Quinn didn’t have the heart to replace her.”

  “It means we need to watch Blair more carefully. When I first met her, she was on the verge of falling face-first into a fountain, and now she’s got a cold.” Rowena gazed at the little girl, who toddled over to the rug by the fire, playing with a pair of well-loved dolls. The child half hummed, half sang a little song as she played.

  “Children do get colds now and then,” Kenna chuckled. “Ian, I mean Dr. McIntosh, came to check on her today. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Rowena stared at Blair’s rosy cheeks, still worried. But the child was amusing herself and seemed quite fine.

  “You really like her, don’t you,” Kenna mused.

  “Hmm?” Rowena was pulled from her daydreams of Blair playing with another child, one a little younger, with her eyes and Quinn’s dark hair.

  “I can see it in the way you look at her.” Kenna leaned back in her chair and studied Rowena.

  The intense scrutiny made her flinch. “Yes, I do. I suppose it sounds silly but the moment I held her in my arms, it felt like she belonged to me.”

  If only her father belonged to me too…Quinn’s biting words still lingered inside her, cutting her up into little painful pieces. “I don’t love her.”

  “Why did you agree to marry my brother?”

  Kenna’s blunt question caught her off guard.

  “I…” Heat rushed to her face and she dropped her gaze.

  “I suppose he is handsome,” Kenna continued. “But you don’t seem to be the sort of woman who is swayed merely by a man’s looks.”

  Emboldened by Kenna’s friendliness, Rowena decided honesty was best. “Quinn is handsome, very handsome, but…” She paused, considering her words. “I was drawn to him because of his smile. He does it so rarely, and when he told me about his wife and Blair, my heart opened up to him, to them both. I want to heal him. It sounds silly,” she added.

  Kenna reached out and covered her hands. “No, it doesn’t.” Quinn’s sister’s gaze was level. “My mother used to say that some souls were marked for each other. Branded in a way. Like you were born to be with someone. Mated souls, you understand.”

  Mated souls? The notion was a tad romantic, but Rowena liked to think of such things. Milly had always been more sensible than her, but Rowena loved the idea of love and destiny.

  “And I suppose you mean to tell me Quinn and his first wife were…mated souls?”

  Kenna shrugged. “I do not know, except that he and Maura were happy. What I do know is my brother and how he behaves. He would not have married you if he did not care for you, no matter what silly things you hear him say. There is a vast difference between not loving someone and not wanting to love someone. No doubt my foolish brother has convinced himself that loving another woman betrays Maura’s memory somehow. I wouldn’t worry about it. I suspect he’ll succumb to your sweetness before long.” Kenna said this teasingly, but she had no idea how much Rowena wished it to be true.

  Playing with the folds of her skirt, Rowena sighed heavily. “I want so much to win his heart, but he doesn’t want me.”

  Kenna chuckled. “You make him out to be a saint. My brother wouldn’t be so selfless. If he married you, there is a reason and it is not just for Blair’s sake. He’s just too damned thickheaded to admit it.”

  Hope blossomed inside Rowena. “Do you really think so?”

  “I do. The question is, are you brave enough to put him to the test?”

  She couldn’t help but remember Quinn murmuring in the darkness, “My bold, brave lass.”

  “I can be brave.”

  “Good. Then we will find a way to get you alone with him as much as possible. My mother used to say when a man is tempted by a pretty ankle, he’ll come around.” It echoed what Rowena had heard in the shop in the village.

  “But how—”

  “And you ought to demand your marital rights every night. Keep him busy in your bed and the man will not be missing anyone else.”

  Rowena bit her lip and glanced away, embarrassment heating her face.

  Good heavens, these Scots aren’t afraid to speak so frankly of such personal matters.

  “I suppose I could try…”

  “I know, we ought to have a fancy dinner tonight. You can wear your best dress. We rarely do it here, so we might as well take the chance when we have it. I’ll mention it to Quinn.”

  “I don’t suppose we could invite anyone to join us? Neighbors or friends?” Rowena prayed there were some people close by or else the dinner with just the three of them might prove to be awkward.

  Kenna curled her hand into a fist and rested her chin atop it. “Well, not so much. We’re a way off from town and few like to travel in the winter. But never you mind.” She patted Rowena’s hand. “Let me go wake the nurse to watch Blair and I’ll take you to your chambers.”

  After they’d left the nurse in charge of the babe, Rowena followed Kenna, trying to memorize her way through the maze of corridors.

  “Quinn always keeps his chambers in the west wing. Before Maura died, they had chambers in the north part of the house, but we rarely go there these days. Ah, here we are.” She stopped in front of a door and opened it.

  The room was bright and cheery with butter-yellow walls and high ceilings. A red marble fireplace was on the right side of the room and on the wall closest to Rowena sat a tall Chippendale carved canopy bed with blue silk hangings. Cornflower blue. Like her eyes.

  “I see the footmen have brought your bags. I’ll leave you to settle in. Pull this”—Kenna touched a silk cord by the door—“if you need anything.”

  Rowena touched her shoulder before the other woman could leave. “Kenna, thank you. You’ve made me feel better. I was so…” She floundered for words, but Kenna held up her hand.

  “I can see how much you love my brother. It’s all over your face. How could I not love a woman who loves him as you do?” Kenna leaned forward and embraced her, a light but intimate hug, as though they’d become sisters in such a short time. It reminded Rowena of how much she missed Milly. In the span of two days, it was as though she’d lived a lifetime, and there was so much she wished to share with her sister. But she couldn’t. They were no longer sleeping down the hall from one another. They were married and living hundreds of miles apart.

  Rowena sat on the bed and sighed. It had been an awfully long day. All she wanted now was a warm fire and a pot of hot tea. She reached for the bell cord and pulled on it. Soon enough a servant would come and she could make her requests. Until then, she could catch a tiny bit of rest. She curled up on the bed, tucking her skirts underneath her, and let her head drop onto the pillow. It would only be for a moment…

  * * *

  Quinn had spent the entire afternoon talking with Morris and sorting out arrangements for Rowena to take over much of the day-to-day decisions at the house. It would leave him free to spend more time on the grounds around the castle. Much of the estate’s upkeep came from outdoor renovations, keeping the wild game under control and the like.

  He was finishing up with Morris when his sister strolled into the study. Notions of privacy, or even the consideration of knocking, had never been Kenna’s strong suit.

  “Quinn, you ought to have a lovely dinner tonight to celebrate your and Rowena’s wedding. Don’t you agree?” She settled herself in a chair opposite his large desk and played with her skirts.

  “Well…”

  “You didn’t celebrate in England, but you ought to here, don’t you think?” Kenna pressed.

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. “What are you up to, Kenna?”

  “Up to? I’m not up to anything. Rowena’s a lovely lass and I simply think a for
mal dinner would be best.” His sister’s gray eyes were wide and innocent, but he knew she was scheming. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to play along.

  “If you desire it, then why not go tell the kitchens to prepare it for this evening.”

  I can suffer one dinner and not be distracted by Rowena and how much I want to take her to bed, can’t I?

  He didn’t like that he couldn’t seem to find the answer to that question. All afternoon she’d been on his mind. The sight of her tears, the feel of her lips on his, the soft, silky tendrils of her hair. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but it would only be cruel to pretend there was something more between them, at least for him.

  “I’ll go speak to the cook. See you this evening.” Kenna stood and was halfway out the door when she paused, her fingertips tapping on the door frame. She glanced over her shoulder at him.

  “You aren’t the only one who misses Maura, you know. She wasn’t the sort of person who would want you to be unhappy. Find your joy again, Quinn.” She tapped the frame once more and vanished from view.

  Quinn rested his elbows on his desk and covered his face with his hands, suddenly weary. Kenna was right. He’d been too cruel today to Rowena in his attempt to keep his distance. Standing, he walked around the edge of his desk and rested his hands on his hips, debating.

  I should apologize. That would be the right thing to do.

  It took him half an hour to find Rowena. None of the servants seemed to know where she was. By the time he thought to check her bedchamber, he was startled to find her asleep on the bed, her body shivering. No fire had been lit and no tea brought to her…He gave a mighty tug on the servant’s bell cord by her bed and waited. For a long while nothing happened. No maid came rushing to the door. With a little growl, he tugged the cord again. It was clear no one was coming. A problem he would deal with later. He checked the time on the clock above her fireplace. It was an hour until dinner would be served.

  Quinn approached the bed, his hands itching with the urge to touch her. The invisible pull she had on him was unsettling. What made this young English woman so irresistible? She was undeniably pretty, but looks hadn’t mattered to him before, not as much as other things anyway.

  “Rowena, wake up.” He surrendered to the temptation to touch her and gave her a light kiss on the cheek.

  When she still didn’t stir, he gave her shoulder a delicate shake. She sighed, rolled onto her back, and exposed the swanlike curve of her neck and the soft swells of her full breasts covered by the gown she wore.

  “Five more minutes, Milly,” she murmured sleepily. “I’m having the most wonderful dream.” She wriggled her body and smiled, her eyes still closed.

  Fascinated, Quinn leaned over and whispered in her ear, “What are you dreaming about, lassie?”

  In response, her nose wrinkled and she sighed again. “The most wonderful man. He wants me to dance…”

  Dance? He’d not yet danced with her, which meant she might be dreaming of someone else. That thought brought him up sharply. She was his wife, and while he had vowed not to love her, he was not going to let her fall in love with another man, even in her dreams.

  Quinn bent and pressed a kiss to her lips. She tasted sweet, too sweet. It made him think of Christmases when he’d been a lad and he’d eaten candied chestnuts by the fire and Kenna crawled around on blankets, playing with toy dolls.

  The kiss deepened as Rowena responded, her arms coming up to curl around his neck. For such an innocent creature, she knew how to kiss. It was something that came naturally to women. Men had to learn.

  “Heaven,” Rowena signed as his lips moved to her cheek, then along her jaw and down to her throat. She made a little purr of pleasure that sent a bolt of arousal straight to his groin. He could get lost in her kisses. She gave him a whole heart when she came alive like this.

  “Quinn,” she moaned his name, and he froze. Her mouth teased his a moment longer before her dark brown lashes fluttered up. He was still leaning over her, she still clutching him in an embrace, yet neither of them seemed to know what to say.

  “Quinn, I’m so glad to see you.” The genuine joy in her smile tore at his heart.

  Clearing his throat, he sat down on the bed beside her. He knew he should keep his distance, but he didn’t want to, at least not now that he’d stopped kissing her.

  “Why is there no fire lit in your room? And why has no one brought you tea?”

  She glanced down, her cheeks turning a bright pink. “I don’t know. I rang for the maid but…and then I was so tired and no one came…”

  He didn’t like the idea of her staying in a room that did not have a working cord.

  “You’re freezing, love. Why not come over to my rooms for a while to warm up. Dinner is in an hour.”

  Rowena nodded. “Could I take a bath? It might warm me up before we eat.” She nibbled her bottom lip in a way that was fast becoming a huge distraction for him.

  “Er…yes. You may use mine.” It would be warmer there. That was the lie he told himself as he curled an arm around her waist, led her to the door, and walked her down the hall.

  “Our rooms are not connected?” She raised her brows, and he saw that all-too-familiar gleam of pain in them.

  “Not yet. The only connected rooms were in another wing. I plan to renovate in the spring.” It was a lie. He’d had no intention of connecting their rooms, because there would be no need. He hadn’t planned on visiting her bed that frequently.

  “Do you…” She halted outside his room and glanced about as though afraid to be overheard.

  “Yes?” he prompted, leaning down a little, bringing their faces close. It was impossible not to look at her lips when he was mere inches from them.

  “Well, it’s just that I should like to be with you, Quinn. It would be silly to have one of us running up and down the hall. Could I stay in your room with you or do you think the servants would find it too scandalous?” She gazed up at him and he knew in that moment he was lost. There was nothing she could have asked for that he would deny her. Not when she gazed at him like that, as though he were her hero.

  “If you wish to, then I suppose you can. The downstairs will be in an uproar, of course, but we can weather the scandal if necessary.” He smiled despite himself. It was a terrible idea to let her share his bed, but he couldn’t say no.

  As much as he wished it weren’t true, he wanted to hold her deep into the night. It was one of the things he had dearly missed as a widower. There was no woman who belonged to him, no woman who he could tuck into his side and sleep with. Surely it would not be a bad thing to let himself have this one little joy in life.

  We will sleep, nothing more. I hope. Even as he thought this, his mind replayed their wedding night, how wonderful it felt to have her beneath him, to taste her lips, to feel her body grip him tightly as they chased the building waves of pleasure.

  “Thank you, Quinn.” Rowena was kissing him again and he lost control in a mere instant.

  He rotated their bodies and pinned her against the wall, his hands exploring her curves, shaping the flare of her hips and the softness of her breasts. She arched into him, nipping at his lips playfully. He loved that about her, how she made him feel young and happy again. Losing Maura had aged him a decade, but being with Rowena, and her teasing kisses and playful nibbles, resurrected the ghosts of his youthful passions.

  Years of practice had him lifting her up and carrying her to his bedroom. They only bumped into one wall and it was his arm he knocked into the wood paneling. With a little curse at the pain, he finally reached the bed and dropped her onto it. The woman was giggling. Quinn climbed up the bed over her and his clever wife was already working at the buttons on his waistcoat and peeling it off his shoulders. When she reached for his trousers, he gently pushed her hands away so he could get them off faster. Desire fogged his head, and his lips curved into a boyish grin that couldn’t be helped.

  “You’re so lovely,” he whispered as he bent to kiss h
er. His hands rucked her skirts up to her thighs and he growled in frustration at all the fabric preventing him from reaching what he needed most.

  Laughing, Rowena lifted her bottom so he could push the skirts to her waist. He covered one stocking-clad knee with his palm, urging her to part her legs as he tugged at her drawers. There was something wonderfully sinful about taking a woman fully clothed.

  They shared a moan as he sank into her welcoming heat. She was damned tight, but wet and hot enough to burn him.

  As he thrust into her deeper, their hips jerked together. She whimpered and threw her head back. Pins scattered as her blond hair broke free of the elaborate coiffure and rippled across the dark blue coverlet. Something inside him, a dark animal side, broke free. He didn’t want to hold back, not any longer. He covered Rowena’s mouth with his, kissing hard, giving her no chance to breathe as he drove into her again and again. He didn’t want to think about how he desired her, about how being with her like this drove him mad with hunger. It was like nothing else he’d ever experienced. When he was inside her, he couldn’t think past his next breath, the next surge back into her body, and how good it felt when she squeezed him with her inner muscles. His heart beat thunderously and boomed against his eardrums.

  Her palms slid over his body, clawing at the shirt he still wore. They’d not gotten past his trousers and her undergarments. And he didn’t care. He needed more…he needed…Panting, he lifted up off her and rolled her over onto her stomach, raising her dress over her bare bottom. He gripped her hips, repositioned himself, and thrust back into her from behind. Rowena hissed in surprise and dug into the blankets as she stifled a low moan.

  That never-ending sense of madness and the need to connect to her kept pulsing through him and he rammed into her over and over.

  He was aware, dimly, of her coming apart beneath him by the sounds of her muffled cries. Quinn didn’t bother to do the same. He came with a shout and an exhalation as his body went limp. Doing his best to not crush her, he collapsed onto the bed and kept her tucked against him. Her bare bottom still rubbed against his groin and he moaned in lethargic pleasure.