Page 22 of Hope in the Highlands (Seduced in Scotland #1)

The moon was just beginning to rise when they reached Rory’s blacksmith shop, but the building was completely dark. The blacksmith was known to turn in early, as he was an early riser, and it cost Graham several favors to rouse the old man from his bed, but once he finally set himself to the task, they were married in quick fashion. Rory’s knowing smirk seemed to irritate Graham, but Hope’s hand on his arm was enough to keep him well enough in check.

After sending off a missive to Lismore Hall to inform the family that Graham had indeed rescued Hope, they rode through the evening to the hunting lodge. Upon their arrival they found the estate completely quiet.

Glancing around the foyer once she’d stepped inside, she noted the antler decorations that seemed to be in every Scottish home—though here, they were in even greater profusion than she was accustomed to seeing. Sighing, she followed Graham as he led the way down the hall, fighting off a yawn. Graham led her to a library, with a pair of French doors that led out into a courtyard.

“Here,” Graham said, bringing her to a lounge. “I’ll be right back.”

Hope nodded, letting her eyes close as she laid down. When she opened her eyes, a cool light emanated through the French doors. She had fallen asleep.

Sitting up, Hope looked around the room. Her shoes had been removed and a heavy knit blanket had been draped over her. Graham’s jacket was draped over a velvet sitting chair. There was no sign of where he’d disappeared to, but she guessed he hadn’t gone far.

Hope noticed the French doors slightly ajar. Tiptoeing barefoot, she came out onto the courtyard and looked around. There, under a single apple tree that sat in the middle of the garden, was Graham.

He was sitting against it, his back pressed into the trunk as one long leg laid straight and the other bent. It was strangely light out, and Hope saw a full moon shining just above the western horizon. The vague scent of burnt tobacco carried on the gentle breeze. Her attention was pulled back to Graham who held the faint glow of red embers blazed in his hand. He was smoking a pipe and before she knew it, she was coming down the staircase and walking toward him.

The night air was surprisingly warm so early. Hope could smell a dozen intermingling flower scents as she entered the garden.

He seemed aware of her approach as he shifted his position, though he remained seated. Hope was curious why he was awake still or if he had recently woken up. He glanced up at her as she stopped only a few feet away.

“Hello,” she said softly.

The hand that held his pipe came to rest against his bent knee. He watched her. Though it was bright for the night, she couldn’t quite make out the expression on his face so she came closer. He seemed contemplative.

“Hello,” he replied.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she said, nodding back towards the house. “I’m sure you had expected to … well …”

“I didn’t expect anything,” he said, his tone gentle. “Do not worry yourself about that.”

“Oh,” she said, biting her bottom lip uncertainly.

She needn’t be obvious in her disappointment, so she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.

In a sudden and swift motion, he was standing. She nearly took a step back, but stopped herself. She knew there was nothing to be afraid of. Not from him.

“You were tired,” he said, his hand coming up to her face. The pad of his thumb pressed against her cheekbone. “Are you still?”

“No,” she said as she stared at him. “I’m not.”

“Good.”

His hand caressed her cheek and inched down her neck and further still, as his fingers pressed firmly into the tightness in her shoulders. She let her eyes close as he massaged muscles she hadn’t even realized were so tense.

“That feels nice.”

“Does it? Turn around.”

She obeyed, rotating slowly to face away from him as his second hand came up to rub the other side of her neck. He kneaded and worked out the knots of her neck and upper back, his large hands warming her skin.

Though he handled her so readily, Hope sensed he meant this contact to be more healing than amorous, though her body seemed to react of its own free will. After a profound point of tension finally released, a moan escaped her mouth, and his hands stilled. Worried that he might have found her tawdry in her uninhibited reaction, she spun back only to see his heated gaze.

Graham’s bottom lip dropped, as if he wanted to tell her something, but in the next instant, his hand slid to the base of her skull and he reeled her against him in a searing kiss. Hope met his urgency with equal fervor as her arms wrapped around his neck.

His other hand held her lower back in a nearly painful grasp as it drifted down her body, kneading at her bottom most deliciously. His kisses were deep and purposeful, as though he were discovering every inch of her. Hope gasped as his mouth dragged away from hers.

He was panting heavily as he stared at her. Though she wasn’t sure what he saw when he looked at her, he appeared confused.

“Graham,” she whispered, breathing unsteadily.

“Aye?”

“Don’t stop.”

In the next moment, he was on her again, holding her and kissing her as though she were some sort of life essence. Hope’s mind swam with half-thoughts as she moved with him. He gently pressed her back against the tree he had been leaning on. Hope’s hands trembled slightly as they came up and landed on his shoulders. He let out a low sound, something between a growl and a hiss. It was audacious to be taken beneath the stars, outside, but Hope pressed her cheek to his fingers as they trailed against her face.

His hands skimmed down her sides, pinning her as he kissed down, reaching the tops of her breasts that threatened to spill out of her dress. With a gentle tug, he slid down the front of her dress, exposing her pale flesh to the night air. She gasped as his warm mouth fell over the taut skin of one of her nipples, sucking and feasting on her.

Hope began to wrap her arms around his neck, but he was quick to reach for her hands. He dragged them slowly above her head as her skin scraped against the rough bark of the tree trunk. With one hand, he held her hands above her head as his other hand stroked down her abdomen to her hip. Gathering her skirts as best he could, he yanked them up as he continued his campaign.

Hope could barely make sense of what was happening when he began to speak in words she didn’t understand.

“Mo ghraidh,” he murmured against her skin as he kissed her.

She didn’t want to ask what he was saying, but hoped it was an endearment because it felt like one. A steady stream of unfamiliar words fell from his mouth as he lowered himself in front of her. Her hands rustled through his hair as he slipped lower until he was kneeling before her, gazing up at her with a lustful expression.

Slowly, he lifted her skirts. She wasn’t sure why she trembled, but something made her petrified and eager. It was almost too much to bear. When the hem of her garments came up to her knees, she clamped her hands onto his shoulders.

“What are you going to do?” she asked breathlessly.

The hint of a smirk passed over his mouth and Hope was grateful to have the support of the tree behind her.

“I’m going to taste you,” he murmured, disappearing beneath her skirts.

Hope brought her curled fist to her mouth as his tongue dived inside her. She tried not to yelp in surprise and pleasure. Her eyes closed as his mouth worked at her, tasting her hungrily, and her knees buckled as a tremors began to swell within her.

Her breathing became short and shallow, and her fingernails dug into his shirt, raking into the skin beneath as a frenzy slammed into her, sudden and raw.

A guttural cry escaped her lips as her body trembled with aftershocks. Graham’s strong arms circled her as she slumped against the tree. She was pliant in his hands as his hand hooked beneath her knee and brought it up.

A hard length pressed into the center of her where his mouth had just been. Her body clenched at the pressure, but he pulled her into his arms as his powerful legs stood wide.

“Hold onto me, mo ghraidh,” he said in a harsh whisper, a desperate tinge to his voice.

She clutched onto him with all her might as, with a single, swift plummet, he pushed into her. The invasion was intense; for an instant, it was hard to breathe. After a moment, the pain subsided, and he began to grind into her, excruciatingly slowly at first and then faster as he fell into a primitive rhythm.

“Graham,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

“Don’t,” he said roughly as his movement intensified.

Don’t what? She did not know. What she did know was that she needed to speak. Needed to let him know, somehow, that another deeper, softer build of emotion was welled up within her.

“Graham, I think … I think it’s happening again,” she said slowly as the fingers of one of his hands dug into his thigh.

Her words seemed to affect him profoundly, for in the next moment, he gripped onto a low-hanging branch above them as he thrust with conviction, pinning her against the tree in a final push.

A deep quiver coursed throughout his body. She wasn’t sure if she was shaking too, but she held onto him as their bodies quaked and settled, coming to uneven breathing, then finally peace. They held onto one another for a long time and when they finally separated, Hope was both grateful and sorry, though she couldn’t understand why.

His hand came up to her face and stroked her cheek as he studied her with awe.

“Did I hurt ye?” he asked, his voice softer than before.

“No,” she reassured him.

He grinned before his forehead dropped to hers as he leaned gently into her. In one single motion, she was brought up in his arms. “Come.”

As if she had any say! He was carrying her again. She didn’t bother to struggle this time—she just let her arms come up around his neck. He brought her back across the garden and climbed the stone staircase to return inside, this time leading her to what she realized was the bedchamber. Graham undressed her and Hope tried to cover herself with her hands. Of course, the whole of her couldn’t be shielded from his attentive gaze, especially when he came to wash her with a piece of cloth that he dipped in a basin that sat on a small table next to the fireplace. Although the fire only housed a few burning embers, the water was lukewarm.

“I can do it,” she said as she tried to take the towel, but he heaved away.

“It’ll be my pleasure.” He pressed the damp cloth against her shoulder.

He ran circles around her entire body, becoming extra gentle and vigilant with her most private areas. She was sure her whole body was red with embarrassment. Graham must have noticed, because he paused halfway through his work.

“You’re not ashamed of me seeing you like this, are you?” he asked.

“No,” she lied.

Surely a wife shouldn’t be embarrassed of being nude in front of her husband. Hope knew that. But then, she had never been full naked in front of anyone before, not maidservants. To be so exposed to someone made her aware of her own vulnerability.

“I think you are.” Graham dipped the cloth into a bowl of warm water. He brought it down between her legs, and she closed her eyes as he cleaned her. “You needn’t be.”

“I’m not.”

“Good.” He slowly pressed against her and she felt a jolt of pleasure. “Because you’re the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen.”

Her eyes opened. When they met his, she saw he spoke the truth.

“Really?”

“Aye,” he said quietly. “And if I were a better man, I’d let you get some rest.”

She stared at him.

“What do you mean to do instead?” she asked, barely above a whisper, as a single finger stroked against the bud of her.

She shivered.

“I’d like to tease you into saying my name again,” he murmured, his mouth close to hers as he spoke. “But I shouldn’t. You’ve had too much for one night. And against a tree, no less.”

“I didn’t mind,” she said quickly, which seemed to please him even though he gave her a guilty glimpse, like a puppy who had ruined a favorite slipper.

“I shouldn’t have done that. Someone might have interrupted us. But I couldn’t help myself,” he said as he pulled away from her.

“Oh.”

He shifted to the side of the table and began to peel off his shirt. Hope’s mouth was oddly dry as she watched the muscles of his long back ripple as he lifted his arms. His hands came to his hip and he undid the pin that held his kilt together. Without warning, it fell away and Hope’s eyes went wide at the sight of his taut backside.

His entire body was a mass of tightly bound muscles, shaped into curves and divots that looked all the more pronounced in the dim firelight. Her polite upbringing begged her to look away, but when her eyes drifted down and she saw the front of him, she audibly sucked in a breath.

Her gaze snapped to his, and though he was no longer grinning, he appeared amused.

“Yes?” he asked after a moment.

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything,” she said quickly, her attention darting in spite of herself from his face to his member standing straight and impossibly rigged.

Had that been what was in her? It didn’t seem possible.

“Are you sure?” He came towards her. “I could have sworn you asked to touch it.”

“What?” she said loudly, until she saw the playfulness in his face. She let out a shaky laugh. “You’re teasing me.”

“I am,” he admitted. He grasped her hand and led her toward the bed. “Come. I won’t accost you while you sleep.”

“Are we to sleep naked?” she asked, a little surprised.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we?”

“I never have before.”

“Really? I do so every night.”

“Truly?” she asked. He nodded. “I never imagined that someone would do so.”

He held up the covers, and she crawled beneath them. He cuddled next to her and gathered her against his body. She felt sore enough that she was slightly worried that he would seek to make love again, but he only kissed her shoulder.

“Easy, darling,” he said. At that, her muscles began to unwind. “I’ve only plans to hold you.”

Hope relaxed against him, their body fitting comfortably together beneath the cool sheets. Her eyes closed, his breath warm against her neck.

“I think I was right,” she said dreamily as her tired body nestled closer to the comfort of his. “We shall have a lucky marriage indeed.”

“Indeed,” he said, as Hope drifted off to sleep.

Hope had never slept more peacefully or more profoundly than that night. It was as if every worry or sorrow that had ever plagued her had dissolved and she was only left with wonderfully pleasant musings. All past troubles had left her and when she woke the next day, she could hardly believe her luck at waking up Mrs. MacKinnon.

By early the next morning, Graham returned to Lismore Hall with Hope as his bride. In the message they had sent the previous day, they’d said they would return the following morning.

Hope mused that she was not a bit sorry that they had been married in a hurry, though she did wonder if perhaps they should keep it a secret.

“I don’t want to spoil everyone’s fun for the wedding,” she said as Graham held out his arm for her. “The McTavishes were so excited for a party.”

“They always are,” Graham said as they made their way through the front door of the castle. “They wouldn’t be disappointed though. I think they’d be glad about our getting married.”

“I’m sure they would, but it’s quite fun, don’t you think?” she said, smirking up at him. “To a have a little secret?”

Graham’s warm glance sent shivers down her spine.

“Aye,” he said lovingly before nodded down the hallway. “Come. We’ll at least need to confirm with Belle that we truly are married.”

Hope playfully slapped her palm against Graham’s arm as they passed the dining room. The sudden scratching of chair legs against the floor caused them to turn as Faith and Grace hurried out into the hallway.

“Hope!” Grace said, wrapping her arms around her sister. “Thank goodness you’re home!”

“Oh, yes,” Hope said, struggling against Grace’s assault. “It’s good to be home.” She gave her sister a squeeze before peeling away from her. Faith just stood there, arms folded against her chest. “Hello, Faith.”

For a moment she thought Faith would turn away, but then she found herself wrapped in her middle sister’s embrace.

“Foolish Hope,” she said with a teasing warmth. Pulling back, she held her with her hands at arm’s length, her gaze flickering to Graham. “Then I supposed you’ve forgiven this one?”

“Not quite yet,” Hope said, reaching back to hold Graham’s hand. “But I will. One day.” Graham gave her a gentle smile before Hope looked back at her sisters. “Do you know where Belle is?”

“Her office, most likely,” Grace said.

“Have no fear. I’ve given her a piece of my mind,” Faith said, winking.

“Er, thank you,” Hope said, turning to Graham. “We should go speak with her.”

“Aye.”

They continued down the hallway and entered the office. As ever, Belle sat hunched over her desk, simultaneously writing a letter and dictating another to Rose, who sat at her own desk against the window. Andrews stood silently against the back wall, waiting for instructions.

“—and further more have the…” The footfall against the flagstone floor caused the mountain of grayish white hair piled on top of Belle’s head to shift as she looked up. Her eyes widened at the sight of them. “Ah! My darling Hope. MacKinnon. Returned at last.” She put down her pen as Andrews came forward to help her up. It seemed she was unable to walk unaided now that she held tightly to her butler’s arm. She squinted her eyes at Graham. “Took you a bit long to return her, didn’t it?”

“We were detained,” Graham said simply, refusing to be baited.

“Hmm, well, hopefully our dear girl isn’t too tired from her ordeal,” she said, turning to eye Hope. “You shouldn’t have run off like that without at least taking Andrews here.”

A solitary brow on the butler’s forehead reached up, as if he found the idea of leaving his mistress absurd.

“Aunt Belle,” Hope said coming forward. “I want you to know that I haven’t forgiven Graham. Nor you for that awful idea you had.”

Belle looked offended and then, glancing at Hope’s hand gripped in Graham’s, she smirked.

“Keep your forgiveness as long as you like, then. All that matters to me is that I got my way,” she said smugly. “And both you got what you deserved as well.”

“Be that as it may,” Hope said. “Graham and I would like to ask you something.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

Hope opened her mouth, unsure how to phrase what she wished to ask. Turned to Graham, she gave him a helpless look. He came forward.

“We want to know,” he started in a low voice, “how much time you have left.”

The question seemed to catch Belle off guard. Her grip on Andrews’s arm tightened noticeably and the gulping noise she made exposed the truth. Belle was dying and she had likely known about it for some time.

“Who told you? Did that Dr. Barkley tell you something? Or perhaps it was your friend Hall.”

“Hope deduced it.”

“Hope?” she repeated, somewhat surprised, gazing at her niece. “But I never told you.”

“Told her that you were dying?” Graham continued to ask, noticing her flinch at his indelicate language. He shook his head. “How long have you known?”

“Several months now, I suppose.”

“Months? And you didn’t think to tell anyone?”

“If I had my way, I’d have been dead before anyone even realized I was ill,” she said as she struggled to come forward. Andrews helped settle her into an overstuffed wingback chair. Graham came towards her to help, but she swatted at him with her cane. “Leave me be.”

“Let me help you.”

“I do not need anyone’s help.”

The noise of shuffling paper caught everyone’s attention. When they looked up, they saw Rose trying to carry several papers with her out of the room.

“I think I should just be going,” she said softly.

“No, Rose. Stay. You’ll need to hear this,” Belle said, her ring-clad fingers clanking against her cane as she tightened her grip. Taking a deep breath before she continued. “Dr. Hall was the first to suspect it. I had been dealing with a significant amount of discomfort since last summer and Dr. Hall insisted on a full examination. He discovered a growth near my hip. Apparently, it has grown significantly since then, which means I’m not long for this world. It why I insisted that I only deal with Dr. Barkley from now on. At least he allows me to bully him. He’ll let me die in peace.”

Hope felt her throat tighten.

“Are you in much pain?”

“Yes, but I’m made of tougher stock than most.”

“The doctor mentioned something about a surgery,” Hope said. “Not Dr. Barkley. Dr. Hall.”

“Yes, he wants to filet me. Well, my answer to that is ‘absolutely not,’” Belle said stubbornly. “I’ve no wish to be carved up by anyone, especially Dr. Hall.” Her clear gray eyes pleading in her disgruntled face.

“What about a trip to the continent? Perhaps to your vineyard?” Hope said. “Would a warmer climate help at all?”

Belle sighed.

“Please, let’s not speak about this anymore. It’s far too morose for my liking.”

“So, you wish for everyone to go about their lives as if your own life isn’t slowly fading away?” Graham asked.

“Yes.”

“No,” Hope interrupted. “How can you expect any of us to do such a thing?”

“Because I demand it. Now,” she paused, glaring at them. “What’s all this from your letter last night about already being married?” Belle asked, her tone authoritative again. “We’ve already ordered hundreds of flowers and it cost a king’s ransom for the amount of food we’re preparing for the event.”

Hope bit her lip, feeling ashamed for not thinking of all the work and expense that had gone into the wedding planning.

“Um,” the gentle voice of Rose piped up. “I might have a suggestion.”

“We can’t just toss it all away. I’m rich, not wasteful,” Belle continued, ignoring Rose. “There has to be something we can do with it.”

Rose cleared her throat.

“I said, I might have an idea.”

Everyone turned to Rose, who appeared rather nervous. When she didn’t speak again right away, Belle let out a sigh.

“Well? What is it?”

“Oh. Well, you see, Jared—er, I mean, Mr. McTavish—asked me to marry him just the other day,” she said. “And if Hope and Mr. MacKinnon wouldn’t mind, I’m sure we would be very grateful to help, um, take everything off your hands.”

Hope smiled broadly.

“That’s a brilliant idea. Can it be done?” She eyed Rose’s figure. “You’re slighter than me in the waist, but I’m sure the dress can be altered. What do you think, Aunt Belle?”

Her crinkled cheek pulled up at the corner, and her eyes seemed to twinkle.

“A brilliant idea, indeed. Yes, of course it can be done.”