Page 7 of The Duchess’s Absolutely Delightful Dream (The Notorious Briarwoods #14)

F eeling invigorated from the sea loch dip, which had left his limbs feeling rather numb but completely alive, Octavian charged down the halls of the fairy-tale castle that sat on the edge of the loch, so near to the ocean.

It wasn’t like the sort of castle that he had envisioned for Scotland. Somehow, in his mind, he’d envisioned a fortress.

But not this one. No, it was all beautiful turrets and light and air. The walls were all the most remarkable soft pastel colors, as if they hoped, in this place, to bring in as much light as possible, cheer it up a bit, and create an even brighter hue.

Perhaps some might have found it a bit much.

He did not; he loved it.

No doubt, the winter months, with the wind howling in off the water and the sun disappearing for most of the day, made the architectural choices good for the soul.

It was like the castle was determined to be blissful and full of good hope. The walls were decked in the most beautiful brocade, and murals had been painted on many a surface.

Bright paints swirled, depicting stories of what he could only imagine were fairy-tale depictions of Scottish myths.

Octavian headed down one of the many halls, trying to find his way back to his chamber. He found himself thinking about the mission that he had been given.

Happy. Make Elspeth happy.

It was an interesting mission, because the concept of happiness was really quite vague. What made one person happy would not make another person happy at all, and he did not know her particularly well, so how could he find the ways by which to bring her joy?

Well, that would require some thought. And the only way to find out what she enjoyed, of course, was to spend time with her and ask her questions.

Yes, it was all very logical. He would have to spend a great deal of time in her company and find ways to make her pink-cheeked with bliss, and then he would be able to return to war feeling as if he had done a good thing indeed.

Yes, he was quite grateful to the duke for having given him an opportunity to spread joy about the world, because it was really quite easy to become very indulgent in one’s own life.

And the best way to stay buoyant—the only way, in his opinion—was to help others. So as he walked down the Axminster-carpeted hallway, he thought of all the different things that a lady of Elspeth’s station might enjoy.

She had declared that she liked books. She was rather tall. What were the things that a tall lady who liked books might admire? It seemed an imbecilic question.

And he knew why. Because if he was honest with himself, he knew one way he could make her happy. Very happy indeed. He’d take her in his arms, lay her back against her bed, kiss every inch of her and…

But before the delicious thought could take root, he turned the corner and crashed into a young woman. His young woman.

A goddess. An amazon of a woman.

Her.

Elspeth’s entire body plastered to his, and it gave him quite a start. She was tall, and her head came up to his chin. But even with her height, her curves melded into his hard muscles.

He grabbed onto her, holding her tightly, lest she stagger back and fall.

“Do forgive me,” he blurted.

“How very English of you, man. It’s just an accident. There’s no need to apologize. Unless, of course, you’re in the habit of running about corners and crashing into people on purpose.”

He laughed, the sound reverberating through his chest, bouncing over her, and tumbling about them.

She gave a little shiver, as if she liked the feeling very much.

He laughed again, a low, tortured sound. For a perverse part of him loved that he could make her shiver with desire, for that was what it was, and he wished to do it again. And again.

“Stop that,” she said. “Your laugh is…”

“What?” he asked.

“Let’s just say it makes me feel things that are quite inappropriate for a young lady to feel in the middle of a hall.”

His jaw dropped at her frankness. A frankness which only fanned his desire. “What are you trying to say?” he said.

She leaned back ever so slightly as she tilted her chin up. “If I have to explain it to you, you’re too far gone. Now, come with me,” she said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I’ve asked you to.”

That was hard to argue with.

Elspeth took a few steps down the hall, opened a door, and flung it open.

That was when he realized that she was in a rather damp chemise. He could see almost every shadow of her body, and he glanced back over his shoulder.

He should not go into her room, and yet he longed to, and what kind of man could turn down such an opportunity as this?

Surely, a man would have to be a fool not to follow her in.

And so, much to the consternation of his own usually excellent thinking process, he found his boots crossing the threshold.

And then he was inside her chamber.

“Close the door,” she directed.

“I think that’s a terrible idea,” he replied.

She shrugged. “Well, if we leave the door open, we’re more likely to be found.”

“And yet,” he said, “if I shut the door, your brothers are more likely to kill me.”

She laughed. “Och, they’re not going to do that.”

“They might,” he said. “I know that some of my cousins and my uncles might kill a fellow for going alone into one of my female cousins’ chambers.”

“They sound most violent,” she tsked, tucking a delightfully wild lock of hair behind her ear. “They wouldn’t really do that, would they?”

“Perhaps not,” he replied, turning and eyeing the open door. “But first, I might ask why do you wish to be alone with me in this room?”

She smiled at him as if he was a very silly boy indeed.

She crossed to the door, shut it, turned to him, and said, “Because gentlemen get to have all the fun, and ladies get to have so little of it, and I was thinking about this today as I splashed in a stream with your cousins.”

He didn’t think about his cousins, but he suddenly did think about her splashing in a stream. He himself had spent a great deal of time in cold water today, and yet he suddenly felt very warm.

“I see,” he drawled.

“Do you ken it?” she queried, her chemise stroking her body like a second skin as she crossed towards him. “You see, I think that since you are here and we clearly like each other—”

“No, no,” he groaned, loving the torture and also fearing it. For there could be consequences for playing with flames, no matter how alluring. “I am concerned about where you are heading with this conversation.”

“Are you?” she asked, crossing to him.

“I am.”

The vast majority of her thick hair was tangled about her face, clearly having been quite wet recently, and somehow he found her disheveled nature to be even more tempting than her beautiful, groomed one was the night before.

“Look,” he began, squaring his shoulders, wondering how to explain himself and his mixed feelings. “My family is in the habit of getting into these sorts of circumstances all the time, but I get the distinct impression that you are not accustomed to these circumstances.”

“I’d like to become so,” she said, playing with the ribbon at her bosom. “I like your cousins. I like your grandmother. I like how they live.”

He groaned. “Oh, dear God, you’re being converted, aren’t you?”

“Into being a Briarwood?” she teased.

He nodded.

“Don’t worry, it’s not really conversion. My family is quite remarkable all on its own.”

Another groan escaped his lips. “Yes, but I don’t think that they’re given to scandal.”

“No, I agree with you on that point. Though we are all great-hearted. I don’t want to cause a scandal,” she said.

“Good,” he said. “I’m not interested in starting one myself.”

“But I would like to…”

“What?” he asked, his heart beginning to beat far more wildly than it should.

She bit her lower lip, then ventured, “Live a little.”

“I don’t know if we should,” he whispered, as heat and hunger laced through him.

“Why not?” she asked.

Suddenly, he found himself wondering why not indeed.

Her family had asked him to make her happy, and they’d simply been clear that he was not to ruin her and he was not to marry her. He could do those two things and still… He could make her happy, couldn’t he?

Yes, of course he could.

All could be done in good taste, good humor, and much to his chagrin, he knew he was talking himself into circles, convincing himself the path they were on was a good one. Even if, in reality, it was completely terrible and dangerous for both of them.

But whatever was left of his brain was quickly heading out the window. As a matter of fact, he knew that his brain had completely left and wandered out onto the Highlands the moment he’d stepped into her room.

He took a step back, his last attempt at denying what he so wanted, but then she grabbed his hand, holding him fast.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

As he savored the feel of her touch, and her hold, he felt as if the tables had been flipped. Usually, it was he who was leading the seduction, but he felt in this particular case, quite remarkably, that it was she who was leading, and he found himself quite intrigued.

He could not take his eyes away from her lips.

“You want to kiss me, don’t you?” she asked, her voice a soft purr.

“Yes,” he said, exasperated.

“Then do,” she instructed.

Her mouth was mesmerizing him, and yet he tried to protest, “It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“I’m a guest of your brother. He’s my friend.”

She rolled her eyes. “Is my life to be completely boring and without affect because the friends of my brothers are terrified of them?”

“I’m not afraid of your brothers.”

“Yes, you are,” she said, tsking. “That’s why you won’t kiss me at my request.”

“You didn’t request it,” he rumbled. “You said I wanted to kiss you.”

“Do you not?” she asked softly.

“I do,” he whispered, the words slipping past his lips, almost against his own will.

“So if I request that you kiss me, you will?”