Page 12 of Finding Faith (Seduced in Scotland #2)

W hatever had possessed Logan to approach Faith with the irrational, ridiculous, and all together asinine idea of starting an affair, he did not know, but the words had dropped from his lips almost on their own accord. That she had accepted surprised him greatly, but now in the light of day, he was reconsidering his impetuous approach.

He never would have even considered such a thing if he hadn’t been certain that Faith and Donovan had been lovers. To be sure, he had no concrete evidence that such had been the case, but it was hard to imagine that anyone could be in Faith’s presence and not be taken in by her. Particularly if she had been disrobed. Between her fiery back talk, her vast knowledge of art, and her overall charismatic persona, Logan was positive no man could resist her charms.

And if she had been willing to take one man for a lover, she might be willing to agree to another.

As, indeed, she had.

Though he was astounded that she had accepted his offer, part of him was put out by the idea that Faith had been with someone else. Even though it cleared the path for them to have an affair now, it still fired his jealousy. But perhaps he was being too idealistic about it. If she were innocent, there would be no way to have her without marriage, and marriage wasn’t an option for Logan. Not since his return from the war.

The war. Logan hadn’t been comfortable laying with a woman since before his time in Burma. It had been a nagging issue when he’d returned, one that he had tried to deal with in Glasgow whenever he visited. But it wasn’t that he couldn’t perform. On the contrary, he could more than satisfy any partner’s needs, but the whole ordeal was done rather coldly on his part. It was a business transaction to be done as efficiently as possible, and the ladies at Madame McHenry’s brothel were always capable, but the pleasure of the act was lost to him.

Still, it was Logan’s preference to dally with professional women versus the country lasses of Glencoe, such as the barmaid at the Stone and Stag Pub or a number of farmers’ daughters who always tried to catch his attention whenever he was around. At least with a professional, he need not fear finding himself caught in some sort of dire situation.

Which, of course, made his dealing with Faith all the more hypocritical. She wasn’t a prostitute nor a carefree country girl. She was a lady, the granddaughter of an earl, and while a wicked part of him was aroused by the idea of laying with a woman so high born, he felt at odds with himself over his reasonings.

He was very much enticed by the idea that Faith wasn’t as perfect or virtuous as she had always appeared to be. To take part in a secret affair with a woman who had been so dismissive of him at first was tantalizing, to say the least. Which is why he could not stop thinking about the letter he received from her the afternoon following Lady Belle’s party.

Lismore Hunt Lodge. Tomorrow at noon.

F

It would be embarrassing to admit how his body had reacted to such a brief letter. Six words to set his blood ablaze, tapping into an unseen pool of desire such as he had not felt in years. Already the hours in between seemed filled with months rather than minutes. And what a clever minx. The hunting lodge was a perfect place for a rendezvous.

The Lismore Hunting Lodge was a stone building set in the northern part of the Lismore estate. Graham had lived in it before he married Hope and moved into the hall, but it had been vacant for some twelve months, save when it was used for after their deer stalking retreats.

It was the perfect place to commence their affair, and when Logan finally reached the copse of tall Scotch pine that hid the gray stone hunting lodge the next day, he could barely contain evidence of his eagerness.

The lodge was modest in size, especially compared to Harris House, but it was large enough to sleep twenty men comfortably. A staff of four had lived there when Graham was in residence, but as they were no longer needed full time, they had been let go to seek other employment. Temporary help was hired as needed during the hunting seasons.

Its seclusion from the rest of the world made it an ideal place to meet. As it came into view, Logan saw Faith standing at the top of the stone steps in front of the green-painted front door. His heart began to beat hard against his chest, a reaction that he tried to convince himself had nothing to do with Faith herself, merely his excitement at the start of an affair.

Faith was dressed in a blue-and-green striped gown covered mostly by a dark, intricately styled cloak. It was gray wool but trimmed with a gold-and-yellow tartan, a plaid that gave Logan pause.

That was Duncan’s family plaid.

Faith must have noted his hesitation, for her friendly smile shrank away.

“Is everything all right?” she asked as he came off his horse.

“That cloak,” he said, taking the rein of his horse in his hand. “Where did you get it?”

“Oh,” Faith said, smiling again. “It’s Jeanne’s. She left it during Aunt Belle’s party and I thought to, well, borrow it, so that no one would recognize me. Though no one knows I’m here.”

Relief coursed through him as he let out a breath. He hadn’t been aware of how affected he was by seeing something that reminded him of Duncan wrapped around Faith. It had been surprising, to say the least.

“Are you all right?” she asked, breaking into his intrusive thoughts.

“Yes,” he said unevenly. Her one brow arched higher than the other, and he knew she didn’t believe him. “Truly,” he said, trying to fill his voice with as much certainty as possible. He didn’t wish to speak about Duncan now.

“No, you’re not,” she challenged. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Liar,” she pressed, and he felt the familiar teasing he always did in her company. “Tell me.”

Her command was infuriating and arousing all at once. He could see that she wasn’t likely to let it go, even though it was a trifle.

“That,” he said, nodding to the hem of her cloak, “is Carlyle plaid.”

Faith looked down before raising her face, frowning.

“Yes, and?” she asked before it dawned on her. Jeanne had once explained that Logan had served with her husband and that he grieved the man’s death in the war. Her face fell. “Oh. Oh yes, of course.” A stilted silence hung between them as Logan’s horse hooved the ground. Faith shook her head. “I’m sorry to have worn it.”

“There’s no need to apologize, he said. “It’s neither here nor there.”

“But it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It does not.”

She quirked her head.

“It does. Your face became drawn when you saw it.”

Logan scowled.

“It did not.”

“It did though,” she insisted before taking a breath. “There’s no reason to deny it. I certainly haven’t the faintest idea of your experiences, but there is no shame to them, I’m sure.”

“How would you know?” he asked, his tone harsher than he’d intended, instantly quieting her. Logan silently scolded himself before continuing. “I don’t wish to talk about it.”

Faith nodded. “Very well.”

Blast . This wasn’t how he had envisioned their first coupling to start. Inhaling deeply, he cast his eyes around, searching for her pony, deciding to change the subject. “Where is your horse?”

“I walked,” she said, another smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “I’m quite unlikely to ride again until I manage to forget my last jaunt.”

“I see,” he said, turning his horse about. “Well, then…shall we go in?”

Faith’s eyes widened slightly, and she stepped away from him.

“Uh, let’s first put your horse in the stables.”

“The stables?”

“Yes. We wouldn’t want to be discovered, would we?”

Pragmatic of her , he thought with a nod.

“Lead the way.”

Faith walked across the pine needle–covered drive to a C-shaped stable. She walked past the first five stalls, stopping before the first stall hidden from view upon the first entrance. It was obvious that she’d put some serious thought into how to ensure they wouldn’t be caught and for a moment Logan wondered if what they were doing wasn’t in her best interest. Evidently, his apprehension shone on his face because she reached for his hand, almost reassuringly.

“Just in case,” she said.

He led the horse into the stall and closed the grate before turning to face her. Whatever suspicious inkling he had felt a moment ago melted away. Faith’s green eyes all but shined at him, and his breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful, but he had seen many beautiful women before and none of them had affected him as she did. He couldn’t explain it. It was more than her heart-shaped face and perfectly arched brows. The way the corner of her mouth quivered between smile and sneer, or the way her eyes would widen when he said the right or wrong thing. It was so many nuances that her painting could never reproduce, and he was grateful to have her in the flesh.

Her curled, honey-brown hair was pulled back, and he longed to run his hands through it, to hold her head to his and kiss her into oblivion. Giving in to his desires, his hand touched her cheek, which she leaned into.

Not for the first time, he considered how fortunate he was to have found himself in this predicament. While he and Faith had started out at one another’s throats, the unfolding of their situation had seemed almost serendipitous.

“You know, had you told me a year ago that we would be involved in a secret rendezvous with one another, I’d have believed it.”

Her brow lifted.

“You would not have.”

“I would,” he said, his thumb gently rubbing the edge of her jaw. “From the first moment I saw you, I thought you were an arrogant, conceited thing,” his voice dipped as fire lit her eyes. “And the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.”

The last bit caught her off guard, and she looked down.

“I thought you were an egotistical prat,” she said, glancing up. “And I was right.”

“Were you?” he asked, a hint of danger in his tone. She nodded. “Well then, what an unfortunate situation for you to be in. Perhaps you should have taken better care.”

He leaned forward, his mouth nearly on hers when she spoke.

“It’s you who should be cautious, Logan.”

At the drop of his name, Logan felt a flame engulf him as he bent down to kiss her. Instantly, her hands came up over his shoulders, the faint pressure of her fingertips digging into his skin, emboldening him.

Though he was no stranger to physical acts of love, the feel of Faith in his arms was at once familiar and foreign. He knew the motions that were expected of him and had been praised for his ability to coax a lady into a euphoric state, but this was different. He knew Faith, knew her anger and annoyance, her wit, her likes and dislikes. A bizarre yearning to please her in all ways bubbled within him as their kiss deepened.

His hand moved to the back of her skull, his fingers snaking through her hair. Her head tipped backward, and he kissed down the column of her neck as a soft moan escaped her mouth. The sound aroused him, and he pulled her closer as his other hand drifted up from her side to the mild slope of her breast. Caressing her through the cloth of her gown was terrific but not enough. He needed to undress her.

His hands came up the row of buttons that ran down the center of her torso, searching for the top one, but as soon as his finger began to toy with her gown, a distant sound of hooves sounded, pulling him from his task.

“What the…” he said, turning away from Faith.

She cleared her throat, reaching for his chin as he focused back on her.

“Logan, please,” she said softly.

His mouth caught hers again, but the sound grew, and he soon pulled away again.

“Faith, wait,” he breathed.

Seemingly distracted, Faith nodded dazedly before her eyes focused as she heard the noise. Shaking her head, she glanced over his shoulder.

“What is that?”

“Shh,” he said, staying her with his hands. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan walked cautiously down the stables, pressing his back along the wall. Two black horses appeared through the thicket, yielding just before the front steps of the lodge. Logan pulled back in an effort not to be seen, but as he recognized the happy, almost giddy couple, his own arousal was extinguished.

Graham was the first off his horse, and he quickly picked Hope up by the waist, swinging her down off the animal as her riding habit twirled out. Her gentle giggle as he did so made Logan aware that he was witnessing a very private moment.

“I’m sorry,” Hope chirped. “That business with Aunt Belle took far longer than it was supposed to.”

“Aye, I almost left without you.”

“You could have.” Graham made a face as if to say he would never leave her, which seemed to please Hope. She tugged at the lapels of her husband’s coat. “Well, all’s well that ends well. We have all afternoon now.”

“That we do,” Graham said, his tone low, his hand caressing her cheek. “Shall we?”

Hope nodded enthusiastically as he led her into the stone lodge, closing the door behind them. It seemed someone would have a rendezvous today, but it wouldn’t be Logan. He returned to Faith.

“Who was it?” she asked.

“Your sister and brother-in-law,” Logan said, perturbed.

“Really?” Faith said, though something in her tone told him that she wasn’t exactly surprised. “How strange.”

He exhaled slowly. “We can’t possibly continue this now.” Pausing, he glanced at her. “Any ideas?”

“I suppose we could always try Harris House?” But before she even finished, he was shaking his head.

“It would be impossible. My father hasn’t left the house in months and my sister is far too aware of the goings on around her.”

“Perhaps they might take a trip? To Glasgow, for instance.”

“What would my father do in Glasgow?”

“I don’t know,” Faith said. “Visit friends? Take in the sights?”

“No. It wouldn’t work. Besides, there are plenty of other places we might meet. For you to come to Harris House would be far too perilous for your reputation.”

Faith gave him a small smirk.

“How chivalrous,” she said sardonically. He opened his mouth, but she lifted her fingers and pressed them against his mouth. “Perhaps tomorrow then? A quarter to eight in the morning, by the flat rock near Loch Fyne.”

Anticipation stirred deep within Logan.

“Very well. Tomorrow.”

With a teasing glance, Faith nodded, and pressed her lips to his once more, kissing him with a heat that he had not noticed before. How strange. But the next moment, she was off, hurrying from the stables with her hood pulled over her head as she headed back toward Lismore on foot.

It felt like a thousand hours until their planned rendezvous. Logan hadn’t anticipated sleeping so soundly the one day he desired to be up, but when his eyes opened the next morning, he found the morning light was already shining through his window.

Without a second thought, he rushed to dress and tore out of the house with Jaco close behind, quickly saddling his horse so that he could make it to the rock on time. Faith was already there when he reached it, leaning her hip against the stone as she looked over the loch. Her expression was pensive, and Logan was curious as to why, but when she saw him, it melted away, leaving only her seductive smirk in its place.

God, how he wanted to shake the self-satisfaction from her being. Not in an attempt to smother her confidence but to challenge her core senses.

He came off his horse quickly and reached for her, bringing her body against his as he kissed her. She was caught by surprise but soon enveloped him in her arms as he leaned her back over the flat rock, kissing down her neck.

“Wait—”

“I’ve been tormented all night,” he confessed, more to himself than to her, as he made easy work of the front of her gown. It was a corseted front scheme, and he pulled at the strings to free her from her restraints.

“As have I,” she breathed, her arms wrapping around his head as he loosened the front of her dress. “But you must stop.”

Stop? Not for all the rice in Burma. He had slept so soundly because his dreams had been far too vivid—yet they paled in comparison to the real thing. He needed to taste her, to touch her skin with his own. He was just about to pull her chemise down when a voice sounded somewhere, not too far off.

“Faith!” Grace’s voice called out, causing Logan to freeze.

“Blasted hell,” he whispered harshly into her bosom.

Was there no privacy in this world? He lifted his head and saw an apologetic Faith staring up at him.

“I tried to tell you.”

“What is your sister doing here?”

“She forges for medicinal herbs and thought to come with me when she caught me leaving through the garden.”

“Faith?” Grace’s questioning tone sounded closer.

Pushing himself up, he righted his jacket and helped Faith as she tended to her dress. Once she was done, he leaned forward.

“I can’t take much more of this,” Logan whispered into her ear, causing her to shake. “I nearly bit through my fork at dinner last night.”

Faith, the chit, had the audacity to smile.

“Patience,” she said as if that solved everything.

“I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“It is amusing. It’s also inevitable. If we must conduct this liaison, outside in the wild, we cannot be surprised when we are interrupted. And unfortunately, there are too many people between Lismore and Harris House for us to find any privacy, so yes, you must show patience.”

“Patience until when?”

“Well, without four walls and roof that someone isn’t constantly barging into, I don’t see when we could begin this…” she said, her voice trailing off. “Unless you have an idea where we can go, I’m afraid this affair is over before it has even begun.”

Logan stared at Faith. Her face was blank, but he was confident she was leading him to an answer she wanted. She had mentioned Harris House twice, and while he had tried to avoid it, it was the only place where he could be in command of his environment. But he wouldn’t take her there while his father or sister were in residence.

“I suppose we might try the hunting lodge again. What about tomorrow?” he asked, but she shook her head.

“I’ve a horse-riding lesson with Jeanne tomorrow and then I’m to accompany Hope to the vicar’s house.”

“Faith, where are you?” Grace’s voice sounded much closer now.

Faith gave him a pleading, sorrowful look before moving away from him, heading toward her sister’s voice.

“Here I am!” she called, turning to give Logan a last glance.

Logan reached for his horse’s reins and quickly walked him back to the trail. His presence could have been explained away as a coincidence if Grace had spotted him, but the less they were caught in each other’s company, the better. Everyone assumed they didn’t care for each other, which was a fine cover, but it needed to remain intact.

Figuring out how to have an uninterrupted meeting with Faith plagued him for the rest of the day. If he could only be with her for a few hours, this nagging need would dissipate—or at least be hoped it would, because it was beginning to have adverse effects on other parts of his life. Apparently, he was far shorter with his staff and his family.

Surprisingly, a letter arrived around dinner time that evening from Lady Belle. She requested that the art pamphlets he had borrowed be returned the next day. He could have sent them over with a servant, but the prospect of seeing Faith again was too tempting to resist. Though he doubted they would find much privacy, he still felt the need to be near her, so the following afternoon, he made his way to Lismore Hall through the rain.

Upon entering the library, which Belle used as her private office, he saw the old woman sitting behind her desk with a tea set just being set down by a maid. Her faithful companion, Andrews, stood behind her, barely acknowledging Logan’s appearance.

“Harris!” Belle said excitedly, looking up from her work. “Excellent timing, I was just about to have some tea. Would you care for some?”

“No, thank you,” he said, handing over the dozen pamphlets he held.

He set them on the corner of her table.

“Thank you for letting me borrow these. They were most helpful.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” she said as she stood.

“I’m surprised you kept them for so long. Some date back several years.”

“I do enjoy keeping things. It’s the historian in me,” she said, coming around the desk. “You know, I have gossip pages somewhere around here from the year my sister made her debut. I’ve kept them for nearly sixty years.”

Logan chuckled, perplexed.

“Why?”

“Oh, why do people do anything? Because I enjoy them,” she said, staring at him as silence settled around them. “So. How are things going with you?”

Though he knew she couldn’t possibly understand what had been happening in his life, Logan pinned her a steady glance.

“As well as they can, I suppose.”

Belle made a strange little “humph” noise as if displeased by his answer. He was about to inquire as to what troubled her when she peered over his shoulder suddenly.

“Ah! Faith my dear, could you come in here, please?”

Logan turned around to see a startled Faith stop abruptly in the doorway. Evidently, the sight of Logan was shocking, for her eyes were wide, and her cheeks seemed somewhat pale. He took a step toward her instinctively before remembering that they were to not demonstrate any actual friendly feelings in front of an audience.

His hands balled into fists.

“Aunt Belle,” Faith said, coming into the room. Her chin dipped a fraction. “Mr. Harris. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I was just returning some pamphlets to Lady Belle,” he said, motioning with his hand behind him at the desk where he had placed the booklets. “I thought you were—”

He stopped himself before he could finish his sentence.

“Thought what?” Aunt Belle asked, almost intrusively.

“Ah, I was just, um, returning from my lesson with Jeanne,” she said, turning her hands out against her skirts as if to display her riding habit. “The rain stopped us again.”

“I see,” Logan said, his tone somewhat rough.

An electric heat seemed to pass between them. Logan was unsure if the unannounced meeting was affecting him, but all he wanted to do was take her by the hand and escape Lady Belle’s company so he could have Faith to himself.

As if she could read his mind, Aunt Belle cleared her throat and stepped around him.

“Andrews, would you help me with something? I’ve quite forgot my need for, erm, my walking stick.”

Faith looked at Belle, her gaze worried.

“Are you not feeling well again, Aunt Belle?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. The rain wreaks havoc on my poor old bones. Andrews?” she said, making her way to the door briskly before suddenly stopping. She began to limp as if suddenly remembering to do so. “Shall we? I’ll only be a moment, my dear. I’m sure you can entertain Mr. Harris while I’m gone.”

Andrews briskly followed his lady and closed the door as if on purpose. Alone with Faith, Logan could barely resist the urge to come toward her. He needn’t, though, because as soon as the door handle clicked, Faith came to him.

She was on him instantly, kissing him as her tongue searched his mouth. He was aroused immediately, though the urgency of her kisses made him wary. Placing his hands on her upper arms, he pushed her back slightly.

“Faith?”

She shook her head.

“I can’t bear this,” she said, husky. “It’s too much to be constantly tormented.”

She sought his mouth again, but he resisted, much to his own displeasure.

“Well, it can’t happen here.”

“It can’t happen anywhere. It can’t happen at all,” she pouted as she kissed him.

Logan knew. He felt the same way, but this was madness. They couldn’t possibly be caught in one another’s arms in her family’s library. There would be consequences that neither of them were prepared for, so he pulled back.

“Faith, wait,” he tried, and to his dismay, she obeyed.

In fact, she moved entirely out of his reach. Wrapping herself in her arms, she stopped several feet away. Belle returned then, and judging by the expression on her face, it seemed she wasn’t very pleased either.

“Well, Harris, I’ve told the cook you were staying for dinner,” she said, approaching her desk.

“Ah, I actually cannot—”

“It will be no trouble,” Belle said, ignoring him. “I just saw Graham in the hallway and told him you were here. He mentioned something about a confectionary nightmare he wanted to discuss with you?”

Logan nearly began to argue with the old woman, but the confectionary nightmare was not an issue he could just brush aside. Evidently, he had business to tend to. With a passing glance at Faith’s back, he nodded.

“Very well. If you’ll excuse me.”

Unchanneled angst and unresolved passion made Logan nearly unfit to be in polite company for the rest of the afternoon. Thankfully, Graham was in an equally poor mood as they discussed their investment in a confectionary factory in Glasgow. One of the new ovens built for the space had become too hot, and a fire had broken out. No one was harmed, but a prominent building corner had been burnt, and the factory was compromised. It would take weeks to fix and much money, but Logan could barely focus on that.

When dinner was served, he sat across the table from Faith, who, by chance or circumstance, had worn a gown with a particularly low neckline. For an hour and a half, he had to converse politely with everyone, doing his best to ignore the growing need to have her.

By the time the final course was served, Logan could no longer stand it. Faith served herself a honey mousse that had been invented by the Lismore cook. He felt his throat dry as she brought up the silver utensil, parting her lips to consume it.

Though he had been in an actual war, this was torture.

After dinner, he made his goodbyes to the family. Faith was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she had decided to end this ridiculous attempt at an affair before it had even begun. He left the house, heading toward the stables. A young stable hand sat on a stool in the corner, his arms folded across his chest and his cap pulled down over his eyes, sleeping soundly. Logan didn’t bother to wake him. Upon reaching his horse’s stall, however, Faith appeared.

“Hello,” she said softly, and it took every ounce of strength in Logan not to reach for her.

Instead, he simply stared. That seemed to make her uncomfortable, for she began to shift from side to side.

“More like goodbye, isn’t it?” he said after a moment, fixing his horse’s saddle.

It pained him to see the disappointment in her green eyes.

“Is that the way of it then? It’s too difficult?” she asked as he pulled his horse out. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any stable hands around. “We’re to give up before we even start?”

“What would you have us do?” he asked, letting his aggravation sound. “I can’t bloody well take you up against a stable wall, can I?”

The sting of his too-honest words caused Faith’s mouth to drop open, and he felt like an ass. She certainly didn’t deserve to be spoken to so harshly. She swallowed and shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said, disgusted with his reaction. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Nor do I.”

Her tone seemed unsure. He wanted to fix it, but how? He sought a guarantee to be uninterrupted the first time they lay together, and if that meant shipping his family to Glasgow, then so be it.

Yes. That was the only place he could think to manage true solitude for them.

“Very well. It will have to be at Harris House. Give me a week’s time to settle my father and Arabella. I’ll send word the day of.”

Faith nodded once and abruptly turned away from him.

“Until then,” she said over her shoulder, though she didn’t stop.

Yes, until then. He wasn’t sure how he would make his father leave Harris House, but he’d find a way, no matter what it took. He wasn’t a gentleman, had never claimed to be one, and his attempted affair with Faith was immoral, but his craving for her was too much, and it needed to be sated so that he could put his torment to rest.