Page 62 of Somewhere Along The Way (Mackinnon #3)

Chapter Nineteen

To lose something before you really had a chance to have it was both cruel and unfair. But when had her life been any other way?

The following morning a letter arrived from Dunford.

The Mackinnon wrote that he hadn’t been feeling well of late and although he was still in the best of health, thought it was time to get on with the task of preparing Ross to be the duke and laird of Clan Mackinnon.

“I am turning my business affairs over to him now, along with the overseeing of our Drambuie interests. You can tell that long-suffering Englishman, who has been more worrisome than an old mother hen clucking over her chick, trying to perform the formidable task of turning a rounder into a proper Scot, that the time he has been waiting for has come,” the Mackinnon wrote.

“The papers are being drawn up now, and your presence here is necessary, in order to bring you up-to-date on details and concerns that will require your immediate attention.”

The future Duke of Dunford and the long-suffering Englishman left that afternoon for Dunford.

Just before he rode away, Ross found Annabella in a small room off the kitchen she and Ailie had claimed for their projects.

On this day they had put harvest time behind them, having packed away their barley heart wreaths and the corn husk dolls made for Plough Sunday, and turned their somewhat sporadic yet enthusiastic attention to the coming Advent season and decorations for Christmas.

For over a month the cousins had been gathering baubles and trinkets, nuts, ribbons, feathers, berries, candles, evergreen branches, and bits of colored fabric to use for making decorations for the tree, as well as garlands and wreaths for the house.

Earlier that morning Ailie had gone with Allan to the Widow McCracken’s to gather peacock feathers from her roost, since there were no peacocks at Seaforth.

Annabella had decided at the last minute to stay behind, in order to dye the feathers they had already collected bright shades of red, yellow, and green—and any other colors she could make by mixing those three.

This was a rather involved process that required several bowls for mixing, as well as numerous piles of feathers, sorted according to size and shape.

She was bent over this ambitious project with stained fingers and feathers clinging to her clothes and hair when he found her.

He stepped into the room, the draft from the opened door sending a swirl of delicate goose down fluttering about.

“Close the door, quickly,” she said, turning around to see him standing behind her.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said, her eyes big with surprise. “I thought you might be Ailie.”

He glanced around the room, then back at her.

He reached out to pluck a feather that rested in her hair near her temple and picked another bit of fluff from her long eyelashes.

She looked up at him and smiled, and the warmth of it surrounded him.

Without saying a word, he took her in his arms, holding her close to him for a moment, not ready to speak, not wanting to tell her he was here to say goodbye.

They stood that way for some time, she with her arms around his waist, her cheek against his chest; he with his chin resting on the top of her head, his hands rubbing her back.

At last he released her and stepped back.

His eyes were a dark blue and he spoke with great seriousness.

“My grandfather has written for me to return. Percy and I are leaving in a few minutes.”

He sighed heavily, gazing at her as she stood so small and straight with all her pride evident.

He could not help wondering what her thoughts were.

Her apron was smeared with bright-colored stains, her hair dusted with feathers, but she had never looked more lovely.

There was a fresh eagerness, a peace he had never seen in her before.

He reached out to take her hand, carrying it to his lips, smiling at the purplish stains edged in red and green.

He kissed her fingers, one by one. “Each kiss is for a hundred reasons why I don’t want to leave,” he said, taking her in his arms as he drew her against him.

His words failed him after that. Her body was too soft and too warm and too close.

He wanted her too much. “Annabella,” he whispered hoarsely.

She looked up at him, her lips parted, and he was lost. Her hands caught in his hair as his head lowered to dot her with hard, persuasive kisses.

His hand found her breast and she sighed as her head dropped back.

He was kissing her throat now, slipping the buttons of her bodice loose, parting the satiny fabric, sliding his hand inside, drawing a soft, shuddering gasp from her as his fingers spanned the gentle swell of her breast. His head dropped lower, and he touched his mouth to her nipple, pressing light kisses there.

Agonized by the feel of his mouth upon her breast, she drew his head closer to her aching flesh, moaning when his other hand slipped beneath her skirts, caressing the firm warmth of her inner thigh.

Whispering his desire, he let his hand slide over the soft fabric of her drawers to find an opening.

Touching the wet silk, knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her, he groaned as his fingers entered her.

Desire raced through him like fire-kissed brandy.

He heard her distressed whimper. “What’s wrong, love?”

“The door, Ross. There’s no lock. Anyone could walk in.”

It was enough to cool his senses. He could see that despite the fire of desire in her eyes, she was shy and uncomfortable.

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, willing the thundering in his heart to go away.

She was new to all of this, and was deserving of his self-restraint—something he had precious little of whenever he was with her.

He looked into eyes that met his with such love, such trust, and for a moment he panicked, afraid he might not be able to give her what she deserved, that he would be unable to control the fire that still raced through his blood.

“Love, forgive me…you’re so perfect…every part of you is so dear. ”

He dropped his head against hers and closed his eyes.

For a few minutes he did not move, holding her against him, his hands where they were, willing some semblance of control to return to him.

Then, with a ragged breath, he drew his hands away, lowering her skirt, and closing the buttons on her bodice.

He looked down with love and tenderness into yellow-green eyes, rose-petal skin, and the gentle curve of a smile.

Admiration, love, and confusion commingled in him, and he felt the corners of his own lips curve in response.

He wanted to say something clever, to tell her all the beautiful things he felt in his heart, but his mind seemed disconnected from the physical part of him, and all he could say was, “Of all the things I could have given you, it pleases me most to see you smile. Tell me why you do.”

“I was thinking about the feathers,” she said.

“Feathers?” he repeated, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. Of all the reasons he expected her to give, supposing they would be somewhat flattering to him, never in his wildest imaginings did he expect her to respond with featers.

Seeing his baffled expression and knowing what he must be thinking, she laughed softly, and coming up on her tiptoes, kissed him. “Feathers,” she said, “as in how I can explain to Ailie why they float out of my chemise when we undress tonight.”

“Or your drawers,” he said with a grin.

It must have been the grin that shattered her, for her expression turned painfully serious. “Oh, Ross,” she said, turning her head away, “I wish you didn’t have to go. We’ve just found each other. It isn’t fair.”

Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her toward him, gazing at her with frustrated longing.

She searched his face, his eyes, knowing that what she was feeling, he felt as well. “You’ll be back,” she said.

“You can count on that,” he said. “The minute I can, I’ll take off faster than a scalded cat.”

She smiled. “I don’t suppose I can ask for anything faster.”

“No,” he said. “That’s about as fast as it gets.

” He held her against him, speaking over her head.

“It’s funny how things work out. Becoming a duke means I have to leave you.

It’s like a wind that blows out a candle and fans a fire to flame.

” She looked up at him as he said, “I know I have to go, but not now. It’s too soon, too soon after…

” He stopped, kissing her forehead. “I want you to know this is the only thing that could make me go, the only reason I would leave you now. I know what…”

She put her fingers over his mouth. “You don’t have to worry about that,” she said softly. “I don’t feel used and abandoned, Ross. I know you better than that. I trust you more, as well.”

His arms tightened around her as his mouth closed over hers. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

She laughed. “Oh, yes, you do.”

He pulled back, smiling down at her. “If that’s the way you feel, I’m going to see that I get you.” He kissed her quickly. “You remember that,” he said. “Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do, or sacrifice, I will. Nothing will keep me from having you. Nothing.”