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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

L enora was thrilled to see Margaret walk through the front door. Mr. Jeffries was trying to hold her back, but she pushed him out of the way and charged for Margaret like a bull at a red flag.

“Margaret!” She threw herself at Margaret’s legs, wrapping her arms around her tightly and holding on for dear life. “You’re here! You’re here!”

“You dinnae think I was going to leave ye?” Margaret laughed as Aurelia too came in for a hug. She had refused to let Margaret go for the entire ride back home, and it looked as if things would not change any time soon.

“I brought her back,” Aurelia said as if it were true. “I told you that I would!”

Margaret laughed at their enthusiasm, and she beamed at the love they shared with her. She looked up to find Lysander watching on, smiling at the way his daughters admired her, and her smile grew.

If there had been even a hint of doubt about returning with Lysander, this has well and truly dashed that to pieces.

There had been no doubt, however, and that was the truth.

When she and Lysander had found themselves alone, she had seen almost immediately what she suspected he wished to say to her.

His true feelings, as she had known him to feel for her, well before she’d left.

The problem, as she had found out, was getting him to admit them.

Fear was what held him back, but the love he felt for her was what forced them through.

She had no doubt now that he did love her, just as she loved him.

All they had been through. All the confusion and the lies and the refusal to accept the truth that was staring them right in the face…

nae more of that. From here on out, there will be nae more confusion because nothing could be so simple as how we feel for one another.

“Girls…” Lysander sighed as he swept in and pulled Lenora from Margaret’s leg. “You are going to scare her away.”

“Oh, they could never,” she laughed.

“Let us not take that chance.” He placed Lenora down by his side and then raised an eyebrow at Aurelia. She saw it and grimaced, reluctantly letting go of Margaret’s leg. “There we are,” he said. “Much better.”

“She is here forever now.” Aurelia looked to Margaret and Lysander determinedly. “You promise.”

“Unless either of you does anything to change her mind,” Lysander teased.

Aurelia’s face dropped with fright, and Margaret laughed. “I am sure that will nae be the case.” She stroked Aurelia’s head. “Dae nae worry, I am here to stay.”

“Yay!”

“But…” Lysander stepped up to Margaret and took her hand. Then he pulled her in beside him, keeping a tight grip. “Margaret is tired, girls, she requires rest.”

“Oh, I am –”

“Tired…” Lysander looked at her with wide eyes, willing her to see whatever it was that he was trying to say.

“And she needs rest…” His hand squeezed and his eyes drifted to her lips, paused on them for a moment, and then returned to her eyes.

Now, they held a look that she knew intimately, one which had her body growing suddenly flushed. “Is that not right?”

“Y–yes,” she stammered, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. “Perhaps an hour or so to…” She flashed her eyes knowingly at Lysander. “To recover. For it has been a long day.”

A smirk rose up the side of Lysander’s face, and he kept a hold of her hand…

In all the heartache and all the confusion, I had forgotten what it was that brought Lysander and me together in the first place. By the looks of things, Lysander is only too eager to remind me.

The girls pouted and complained, but they knew better than to argue.

Soon, Mr. Jeffries was escorting them away, and just as soon, Lysander was leading her up the stairs, down the hall, and toward his bedroom.

He moved quickly and urgently, as if he might just collapse if he did not get her alone before it was too late!

Personally, Margaret was glad for the haste. She had not thought much on it these last few days, for she was too sorrowful and broken to dare let her mind stray in that direction, but now that the moment was upon her, she could hardly think of anything else!

Into the room she was dragged, at which point Lysander released her hand so he could close the door. He did so, and the sound of the lock clicking sent a jolt through her body.

“Forgive me for the urgency.” He stood with his back to the door, a wicked smile on his lips. “Surely, you can understand?”

“Oh…” She shrugged and ran her eyes over his body, relishing every inch like she never had before. “I suppose I can forgive it. Assuming you make it worth my while.”

“I am sure I can try.”

“Try?” She frowned playfully. “I am sorry, but that simply is not good enough.”

He laughed, and it turned into a growl as he sauntered toward her. “It is funny in a way,” he began. When he reached her, he took her hands, not once breaking eye contact. “These last few weeks, I was so… careful to control myself around you.”

“Were you?” she frowned, still playful because she knew very well how he had felt about her. “I dinnae notice.”

“I felt I had something to prove,” he said, still holding her stare. It was intense and probing and made her pulse quicken at how serious he had become. “That, for some reason, is how I felt about you, how much I…” He licked his lips. “… wanted you was somehow wrong.”

“Oh, it is wrong,” she said, licking her lips as she glanced at his lips and then his eyes. “You’re just lucky that I encourage it.”

“I want you to know,” he continued, squeezing her hands tighter. “I do love you, and that will not change.”

“I should hope nae.”

“But I want you to remember that because…” He pulled her into him, moving to kiss her, only to keep his face back by mere inches. She could feel his breath on her lips, and it made her skin ripple with pleasure. “Well, what I am about to do to you might suggest otherwise.”

“Oh…” She caught her breath as her legs quivered. “Is that… what are you… Perhaps ye need to show me. And then I can decide for myself.”

He groaned as their bodies pressed together. Their noses touched, but still he did not kiss her. “How you undo me.”

“As you do me.”

“How much I want you.”

“So ye keep saying.”

“Forgive me for what I am about to do,” he said. “Even if it is all your fault.”

Her heart was racing. Her mouth was salivating. Never had she wanted someone more than she did her husband right in this moment. He stayed back, breathing heavily, his eyes searching her as if deciding where he would start.

“You best hurry,” she purred. “If what you say is true, I would nae want ye to change ye mind.”

“Impossible.”

“Prove it.”

That’s exactly what he did.

He took her by the face and pulled it into his own.

Their lips met, clashing brilliantly, opening so that their tongues could lick and lap and tangle together.

Her own hands grabbed Lysander by the waist, squeezing and holding on for dear life because that kiss alone had her entire body reacting in ways she knew to expect but was still growing used to.

Her legs were already trembling. Her thighs quivering. And as a warmth spread up her entire body so that she could hardly breathe, Margaret felt herself grow moist between her thighs so that she was already sure to be dripping on the floor. Oh… Lysander…

Their kiss continued with passion. Lysander, taking control, spun Margaret around and then drove her back so that she was against the door.

Next, one hand went under her chin, pushing her face back so that he could kiss and suck at her neck.

His other hand was around her waist, squeezing it before moving up and cupping her breasts.

Margaret closed her eyes and let her body melt into the wall as she felt his lips on her neck and his hands around her face and body.

Her right leg lifted then, wrapping around Lysander, pulling him into her, which made him growl with delight.

“Careful…” He growled again as he started down her neck, his hands grabbing at the front of the dress as if looking for an opening.

“I think we’re well past the point of careful,” she purred as she ran a hand through his hair.

Lysander, struggling with the dress, soon became undone.

He let go a roar and grabbed Margaret by the hips, spinning her about and pushing her face and body into the doorway.

She gasped and tried to look back, but he stepped into her, his body against hers, his hands wrapping her front as he buried his lips again into her neck from behind.

“Do you trust me?” he asked her as he sucked her earlobe.

“Urgh…” she moaned as his tongue licked her ear.

“Do you trust me?” he asked again.

“I do, Lysander. I trust ye.”

She could feel his breathing as his hands ravaged her.

And she could feel his manhood through his breeches against her buttocks.

It had her heart racing with excitement and curiosity and hunger.

Without knowing what she was doing exactly, she reached a hand around and found his bulge, grabbing hold of it and squeezing.

“Urgh…” Lysander’s body turned stiff. “Margaret, you are trouble.”

“Ye have nae idea,” she teased as she squeezed him again.

Lysander acted quickly next. His hands had been groping her breasts, wrapping themselves around her neck, and pulling at her hair.

But he seemed frustrated, and it had everything to do with her dress.

She still had her back to him, but she felt him pull away as his hands began to fumble with the lacework at the back.

And she sucked in, shuffling her legs inward and then wiggled her hips as he undid the dress and dropped it to the floor.

“Better?” she giggled, shivering to feel the air on her bare skin.