Page 26

M abel sensed something was bothering her husband, even if he tried to hide it. His body was riddled with tension, which she could feel in his hands as he held her. She watched him eye the dancers and wondered if he would benefit from some time away from the watchful eyes of the guests.

Perhaps he was not one for socializing, just like she was.

“Would ye like to take the air, husband?” she asked softly. “We could go to the gardens if it pleases ye.”

“Do ye nae want to dance?” He stopped at the edge of the makeshift dance floor.

Couples moved around them in an array of colors, and Mabel wanted strongly to be a part of them, but she knew her husband was only using the dance as a distraction from whatever had been bothering him.

She had noticed him watching her with a frown most of the evening, just as she had been watching him, but she could not understand why. The cèilidh had progressed smoothly, and they had yet to stumble upon any difficulties, yet he had looked unsettled all the while.

She had wondered briefly if she had perhaps displeased him, but she had not had the opportunity to be alone with him to ask. She had been swarmed with guests, all wanting to meet the new Lady Muir, and she had had to socialize, which she had found easier to do than usual.

She had found herself fluttering about the room and offering greetings, the words flowing easily out of her. She had been pleased by the development, but seeing the grim look on her husband’s face dimmed her joy.

“I would love to dance, but I can tell ye are burdened,” she murmured. “I can hardly enjoy a dance when it will only burden ye further. Is it something I can help ye with? Have I done something to displease ye?”

He smiled at her and squeezed her hand gently. “Dinnae worry, wife. Ye have done naught to displease me,” he assured her. “And ‘tis too beautiful an evening to be burdened. Let us dance; I ken how much ye love to dance.”

She eyed him briefly and then nodded, allowing him to lead her back onto the dance floor just as the next dance was about to begin.

She was thankful it was a slow number that would allow them to converse; perhaps he would be willing to discuss his thoughts if they danced.

Mabel was aware of his eyes on her as they moved. The intensity of his gaze warmed her skin, yet she could not fathom the reason behind his unease.

When she felt the tension leave him as he relaxed more into the dance, she decided it would be as good a time as any to probe his thoughts. Perhaps he would share his burdens with her now.

“Has something upset ye this evening, husband?” she asked softly.

“Nothing has upset me,” he answered. “Why do ye ask?”

“Ye were frowning earlier,” she noted. “I was afraid I might have upset ye with me behavior.”

He chuckled softly, surprising her. “Ye havenae done anything to upset me. I have only been a fool, ‘tis all. Dinnae worry yer head.”

“But I would like to ken what troubles ye,” she insisted. “Even if it is something silly. I should help ye with yer burdens. Ye’re me husband, ‘tis me place to do so.”

He grinned broadly, surprising her again.

She was still not used to seeing the transformation in his usually stoic face, and the fact that she had never seen him grin with anyone but her made a sense of pride bloom in her chest.

“I love hearing ye say that I am yer husband.” He smiled. “‘Tis very possessive of ye.”

She felt heat rise in her cheeks, but she knew he was only distracting her from what she had asked him.

“Ye’re distracting me,” she accused with a pout.

“Aye, that was the plan,” he teased.

She wrinkled her nose to show her displeasure, but was unable to suppress a smile at his cheek.

“That isnae very tasteful of ye.” She pursed her lips. “I am trying to understand ye and be a good wife.”

“Ye’re already a good wife. Too proper even,” he said. “‘Tis yer dress that gives me trouble.”

“Me dress?” she asked incredulously. “I dinnae understand. Ye chose it for me.”

“Aye,” he agreed, looking down at her with darkening eyes. “I have half a mind to order twenty more, but ye will promise to wear them only for me.”

His words caused her to smile as she realized his meaning. He liked her dress, and he liked it very much .

“I accept yer terms, but I must ask—is it only wearing them that ye want from me?” she asked with a playful look.

His eyes widened and darkened even further—she had pleased him with her question.

He leaned closer so he could whisper in her ear, and the brush of heated air from his lips kindled a fire in her core that she was becoming all too familiar with.

“I would love to see ye wear them and have the pleasure of taking each one off ye,” he whispered, before straightening as though he had not just said something entirely improper.

She knew her face betrayed what his words did to her, but she could not let him get the better of her every time, so she rose on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear words she knew would arouse him as his had done her. “Why dinnae ye help me remove this one now?”

She pulled away from him as the music came to an end.

She turned to the steps leading out of the Great Hall, hoping no one noticed her unsteady gait as desire thrummed in her blood. She tried to walk confidently, not even sparing a look around her, or else she would lose her footing and her seduction would be ruined.

She had never played this game she had just started, but she intended to see it to the end.

She did not need to look behind her to see whether her husband was following her, but when she stepped into his study, the sure sound of the door closing behind her was answer enough.

She stopped in front of his desk and turned to him, feeling unsure now that her seduction had worked.

As if sensing her unease, he stepped closer to her, lifting her chin with a finger.

“Ye have become something of a temptress, wife,” he accused playfully. “But I find I am much pleased. Ye please me greatly.”

“I only seek to make yer days easier,” she answered.

“Yet me nights are uneasy because of ye,” he whispered, leaning so close that their lips were almost touching.

Heat bloomed in her core at his words, and she knew that if he pulled away now, she would die with need.

“I cannae understand this desire I feel for ye,” he whispered against her mouth. “Ye fill me with need like nay one else before ye.”

“Dinnae speak of other women when ye’re with me,” she warned.

She knew her tone was disrespectful, but he grinned as though he was excited by her words.

“Aye, wife ,” he purred, nipping her bottom lip. “I willnae speak of other women at all. Ye are, after all, the most perfect woman.”

He did not give her a moment to think about his words and captured her lips, finally ending the torture she had been under.

They sighed into each other’s mouths, his hand going to her cheek and her hand into his hair.

Their kiss was feral and hungry, as they had been apart many a night due to the preparations for the cèilidh, but the little stolen glances she had caught had fuelled her with desire that she could scarcely hide from him.

“Ye dinnae hide yer passion,” he whispered hungrily between kisses. “I find it incenses me further.”

“Kiss me, husband,” she begged, and he obliged.

She felt everything in her tighten and swell, responding to his ministrations.

Her breasts were heavy with need, and her nipples were erect, straining against her dress and demanding his attention. She knew there was no time, but she wished he would forget they had a party and guests to return to and he would ravish her.

“Ye make me want to forget that we have guests downstairs,” he whispered against her neck. “I have wanted to do this since I saw ye in this damned dress.”

“Why didnae ye?” she asked breathily as he nipped her gently.

With the attention he lavished on her neck, it was near inevitable she would be left with a bruise that would inform everyone of what they had been doing. But she did not care.

He was wreaking havoc on her senses, and she was powerless to stop it.

“We have to stop now, or I will be tempted to carry ye to yer chambers,” he breathed against her lips, kissing her once and then twice before resting his forehead against hers.

She reached for his lips again, but he pulled away.

“Dinnae worry, wife,” he said thickly. “When the night is over, ye will have as much of me as ye want.”

She lowered her eyes and nodded, rising from the desk.

When he had lifted her onto the surface, she did not even know. She eyed the strewn papers they had left in their wake and smiled softly. They had ruined his usually tidy workspace in the throes of passion, but he did not seem bothered in the least.

She fixed her hair as best as she could and smoothed out the skirts of her dress as well as the bodice, which had shifted and was revealing far more cleavage than was proper.

Feeling his eyes on her, she shook her head and took his arm.

“Ye insisted on returning to the cèilidh, and we must, husband.” She gave a smile before leaning into his ear. “I am all yers at the end of the evening.”

He pulled her to his chest and planted a quick kiss on her lips. “Indeed, ye are.”

“I should thank ye for inviting me family,” she added. “I didnae realize how much I missed them.”

“I kenned ye didnae like crowds, but I believed having yer family here would ease the burden. Anyway, ye conducted yerself well today,” he praised. “Ye were the perfect lady.”

“I was so nervous, me heart was trembling.” She laughed nervously. “I am surprised ye didnae hear it.”

“I noticed,” he said with a small smile.

She turned to him in surprise. “How?”

He gave her a wolfish grin and tapped a spot on her neck. “I can see just how fast yer heart beats at this spot.”

She gasped. “‘Tis nae true.”

“Aye,” he said smugly, before leaning forward to whisper in her ear. “‘Tis true. ‘Tis also how I ken when ye are burning with desire.”

His voice dropped to a low murmur that had her heart racing again.

“I see I am correct,” he continued, pulling away from her. “Dinnae worry, wife. I will tend to ye afterward.”

She gasped and slapped his arm playfully, then clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Ye hit yer husband,” he stated calmly.

“I… I didnae mean to,” she stammered. “‘Twas?—”

He burst into loud laughter, surprising her again. It seemed her husband was given to humor easily.

She pouted at him, for he had frightened her with his response.

“I dinnae mind yer outbursts, wife,” he teased. “I will punish ye later, and ‘tis enough for me.”

She shook her head at his playfulness and stepped away from him.

“Do ye think anyone noticed our absence?” she asked with a guilty look.

“Ye worry what they will think?”

“Aye,” she admitted, worrying her lip.

“Ye shouldnae worry. Nay one will think yer husband’s desire improper,” he assured her, just as they neared the doors to the hall. “‘Tis a thing many desire to have, so dinnae fear.”

Returning to the Great Hall after what they had just done, Mabel was struggling to hide her guilt with a serene smile, but at a mere wink from her husband, her cheeks flushed red.

“Ye should?—”

A shout interrupted him and sent a chill down her spine.

“What is happening?” she asked, turning to him. “Is something wrong?”

She noted the stormy expression that temporarily clouded his face, but he turned to her with a calm look that failed to hide the heat in his eyes.

“Dinnae worry, wife,” he told her. “I will take care of it. Ye should find the boys and make sure they’re well.”

“Husband…”

“Dinnae worry,” he said, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Just find the boys and ensure they are well. Trust me, alright?”

She nodded and watched him walk off in a daze, her worry rising. She certainly hoped all would be well. She did not like the stormy look on his face, but perhaps he would tell her about it later.

She stepped into the Great Hall and was immediately confronted by her sisters.

“Where have ye been, Mabel?” Skylar asked. “We have been searching all over for ye.”

“I…”

“Did ye sneak away with yer husband for a tryst, Mabel?” Scarlett asked with a knowing grin.

Mabel flushed, unable to hide her guilt.

Linking arms with her on either side, her sisters pulled her to a secluded corner with matching conspiratorial grins.

“Tell us everything.”