Page 19 of The Pursuit


  “It’s a big house, Meli, certainly big enough to accommodate a large family.”

  “Aye, but it’s your aunt’s house. What if I’m wanting a house o’ m’own?”

  “Do you?”

  She blushed, glanced down in her embarrassment. “I’m thinking I do.”

  “Then I’m thinking we’ll have to build you a house of your own.”

  She blinked up at him. “You mean it?”

  “Contrary to what you apparently assumed, I see your point. So, yes, you shall have your own house—ten houses if you like. I mean to make you happy, Meli, whatever it takes.”

  She smiled at him. “One will do nicely, but can it be wherever I like?”

  “Wherever you like. Within reason.”

  “In Scotland?”

  He rolled his eyes, but then he chuckled. “I can’t say I didn’t see that coming. Very well, in Scotland, as long as it’s nowhere near the…obnoxious side of your family.”

  “As it happens, there’s a nice parcel o’ land no’ too far from Kregora that’s been vacant for as long as I can remember. M’da thought about buying it once, but I dinna think he e’er located the owner.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m the owner.”

  “You’re no’ sure?”

  He shrugged. “One of my father’s passions was buying property, empty or otherwise. With the large estate my uncle left me, and my reluctance to deal with my mother, who’s been handling my father’s estate, I never got around to finding out the extent of my Scottish inheritance. But I vaguely recall going with my father, when I was around four, to look over some land he was buying in the direction of Kregora. Though it may not be the same. There are quite a few miles between Kregora and my father’s house.”

  “And it could be exactly the same—and perfect!” she said with delight.

  He smiled. “We shall see.”

  And then, out of the blue, “Can we be wed tonight, Lincoln?”

  Thirty-Six

  MELISSA had taken Lincoln by surprise with her question. Herself as well. She hadn’t meant to ask that, which left her open to be asked in turn why she couldn’t wait until the morning. She blushed immediately.

  She started to say “never mind.” In fact, she was just about ready to run out of the room, she was so embarrassed. His answer, bless him, was without inflection and simply to the point.

  “I thought of that myself,” he admitted. “Until I had to follow the vicar’s trail to locate him and remembered this is the one day a week that he’s never at home. It’s his day for visiting the sick and injured in his parish. Because it’s a set day, they expect him. And he’s been known to spend half a night with some, if he thinks it will help.”

  “Well…damn,” she replied.

  He coughed. Her blush got worse. “I mean, och, never mind. You wouldna understand.”

  He stood up, moved behind her chair to pull it out so she could as well. “Now, there you are incorrect,” he said, and he lifted her in his arms to carry her from the room. “I understand perfectly, and I am in complete agreement.”

  “You are?” she asked a bit breathlessly, a lot hopefully.

  “Meli, you’ve agreed to wed me. Will you agree to having our wedding night a day early?”

  “And here I was going tae ask you that—or I wasna…well, I didna really think I’d have the nerve.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  She nodded, burying her face against his neck. He clasped her tighter, hurried his step. It was his room he took her to, a large room, but she barely saw any of it, couldn’t take her eyes off him after he set her down carefully on the edge of his bed. He removed his coat. She started to remove her shoes, but he shook his head.

  “I want to do that,” he told her. “If you knew how often I have undressed you in my mind, you would know how much pleasure I’m going to get from the simple matter of removing your clothes.”

  She lay back, crossed her arms behind her head, gave him an impish grin before admitting, “And if you knew how often I’ve pictured you undressing your self—I’ll just watch, if you dinna mind.”

  He didn’t mind at all, apparently, and even slowed down his efforts slightly. Her breathing became more labored with each piece of clothing he tossed on a nearby chair. She hadn’t been joking. She really had imagined this moment so many times but, never having experienced anything like it, couldn’t have come close to the actual reality of seeing him get naked.

  He was more muscular than she could have guessed. Clothes could be so deceiving. Thick arms, black hair sparsely covering his chest, a bit more down the line of his belly. For all the injuries he’d had in his youth, none had deformed him. He was perfect in every way—if a bit bruised from his recent clash with her uncles.

  When he unfastened his trousers, she almost lost her nerve. This was getting into the area of the unknown for her. But her fascination wouldn’t let her close her eyes, though there was a moment of natural fear. His manhood, rampant with desire, was simply too big, in her opinion. There was no possible way she could accommodate him, or so she was thinking.

  He guessed that from her expression, said gently, “You were made for me, Melissa MacGregor. We will fit perfectly, I promise you.”

  “Really?”

  He joined her on the bed, gathered her close to soothe her fears. “Really. Men come in all sizes, if you haven’t already figured that out. But the female body is a wondrous thing, made to take that into account. With the right preparation—”

  “What kind o’ preparation?” she interrupted.

  “The kind that will make you wild to have me inside you,” he said.

  “Oh.” She blushed, then said, “Show me.”

  “As it happens,” he said huskily and began kissing her, “I was going to do just that.”

  It was very odd, how his kind of kissing could make her feel things in other parts of her body. A restless yearning built so quickly, she was impatient to get as naked as he was. But he was sincere in his desire to remove her fears, and so immersed her in the taste, scent, and feel of him, that by the time he sat up to undress her, she was no longer wondering if he would fit. She was instead thinking, how soon?

  And it wasn’t just an undressing. Everything he did to her was sensual in the extreme: kisses along the skin he bared, cloth removed so slowly it was a caress in itself. But then the real caressing began, that drove her as wild as he said it would. His lips caught each of her gasps, and there were many, as his hands traveled the length of her body and back, stopping in the most intimate of places.

  She was more than ready for him when he moved into position above her. She was hot, wet with need, making his entry smooth. Then once again he stopped his movements completely, panicking her. She thought of that other time. He wasn’t going to insist on that piece of paper with their names on it coming first, was he? When, in her mind, he was already hers?

  She was about to ask when he said hesitantly, “This is the part that will hurt a bit. No, don’t stiffen. Do I need to explain…?”

  “Nay, m’mother did. I just forgot for a bit.”

  She actually relaxed. Waiting, even another day, was worse in her mind than some little pain she would feel with this first experience of love-making.

  She clasped his head, kissed him. “You’ve showed me so much. Now show me the rest.”

  “I love you,” he said tenderly, filling her heart with joy just before he filled her body.

  She didn’t have time to respond. Her cry was brief, and the relief that followed, relief that it hadn’t been so bad, allowed her to more fully experience the thickness filling her. It was wonderful, knowing they were truly joined now. And the pleasure as he began to move in her again…it took her by surprise, built swiftly to a crescendo, and then an explosion of pure sweetness that had her crying out again. His own climax followed almost immediately.

  Replete, satisfied beyond her expectations, she drifted off to sleep in his arms. The morning would see
them wed for real, but in her heart they already were.

  Thirty-Seven

  LINCOLN woke with the same feeling of euphoria with which he’d fallen asleep. Melissa was his, come what may. That simple knowledge made such an amazing difference to his peace of mind. Making love to her had been an incredible experience, a new experience for him, like nothing gone before. There was simply no comparison to satisfying a need—an experience that could be easily forgotten, it was so lacking in depth—to making love with the full spectrum of emotion, as he’d done last night. But making love to her still paled in importance to knowing she was his now, for all time.

  He’d told her he loved her, but that didn’t come close to describing his feelings for her. She filled every aspect in his life that he’d been missing for most of it. His feeling of being alone was gone.

  That he woke up alone, the bed empty beside him, was only mildly disconcerting. There was no thought that he might have dreamed of bringing her to his home and making love to her. Last night was stamped in his memory for all time. She was about somewhere, he merely had to find her, and he quickly dressed to do that.

  The last thing he expected, though, was to see her sitting huddled on the top step of the stairs, her arms wrapped around her knees, and looking absolutely miserable. He did panic then. Such dread filled his heart that it hurt.

  He dropped down beside her, put his arms around her, held her so tightly she moaned. He relaxed his frantic grip, but he didn’t release her.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” he said.

  She sensed his fear, quickly soothed him. “Shh, it’s no’ what you’re thinking.”

  He leaned back to stare at her but couldn’t get rid of his dread. “Then what?”

  “When I woke and dressed, it came as a shock tae realize I’d be wearing the same ordinary dress I wore yesterday tae m’wedding, that I’ve nothing nice tae wear for what is one o’ the most important occasions o’ m’life.”

  He sighed in relief, said, “I ought to throttle you for scaring me like that.” Then, noting that she didn’t smile, he asked, “That’s not all, is it?”

  “I have a fine wedding gown in Scotland. It’s extremely lovely. M’da sent all the way to Brussels for the white lace. It took several months to locate the finest white satin, so shiny that, in contrast tae the white lace, it appears a glowing silver. M’mother and I spent weeks designing it.”

  “Melissa, getting married has nothing to do with what you wear to accomplish it. You’d be a beautiful bride in my eyes even if you were wearing sackcloth.”

  “I know, but—”

  “But?”

  “I canna do this, Linc.”

  The panic was back, was about to run rampant. “You can’t not do it. We’ve made love. I’ve compromised you beyond redemption.”

  “Nae, you misunderstand. I want tae wed you more’n anything, but I want tae be wed in Scotland, at Kregora, where I always expected tae be, with m’friends and family gathered ’round. I need m’parents’ blessing. I want them tae agree that you’re the right mon for me.”

  “We tried that,” he reminded her.

  “I know, but we mun try again, and again if necessary. They can be stubborn, but they’re no’ unreasonable.”

  “They’re holding my past against me. Do you think it’s even possible to change their minds?”

  “Certainly! M’da has just let m’uncles rile his protective instinct, is all. That will settle down as soon as they get tae know you better. But I canna bear the thought o’ them worrying about me as I know they’re doing right now. And I want them present for my wedding, tae be there tae share in m’joy. I’m too close tae them, Lincoln, tae no’ have them be a part o’ this grand moment in m’life. I’m no’ sure you can comprehend just how important this is tae me, when you havena been that close tae your own parents.”

  He flinched, but he wasn’t going to get into that at the moment. He had been very close to his parents—before his father died. Which had been part of the rage. He’d been too close. They’d been everything to him—as her parents seemed to be to her.

  “What you’re saying is you want to go back and get this settled with them before we marry?”

  “Aye,” and then, guessing accurately, she added, “You’re disappointed?”

  “Most assuredly.”

  “But you understand?”

  “Yes.” He hugged her tight again, then admitted his thoughts. “I just can’t help the feeling that I’m going to lose you in the effort.”

  “No!” she exclaimed fervently. “No, you’ve missed the whole point, Lincoln. I’m still going tae marry you, no matter what. I’ll marry you today if you insist. I’ll e’en leave the decision tae you. I’m just hoping you’ll agree that a wee bit more effort wouldna hurt, tae convince m’parents that our marrying is an occasion for celebration, for us as well as them. It’s them that need convincing you’re the only mon for me, no’ me. If they prove stubborn, we’ll elope again. Dinna doubt that.”

  He cupped her cheek, kissed her gently. “That’s all I needed to hear. Let’s get something to eat, and then we’ll be on our way.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Meli, I told you I mean to make you happy. If it means doing this first, then we do this first. Whatever it takes, I’ll get your father to like me.”

  “Och, I’m thinking he already likes you.”

  Lincoln rolled his eyes. “I know, he just thinks I’m crazy.”

  Thirty-Eight

  IT was still early afternoon when they arrived back in London. The St. Jameses’ butler gave them a quick account of who was in residence before he dispatched a footman to notify Melissa’s mother that they’d returned.

  Melissa moved into the parlor, disappointed that her father wasn’t home. She’d been hoping to have the matter settled before the end of the day. An unrealistic hope, but even more impossible without her father’s presence.

  Lincoln, noting her expression, guessed, “You really didn’t think he’d be scouring the countryside looking for you?”

  She gave him a sour look, since he obviously expected no less. “When, as you’d put it, I’ve plenty uncles tae make good bloodhounds, no, I expected him tae leave the looking for me tae them and be here comforting m’mother.”

  He put his arm around her shoulder to do some comforting of his own, reminding her, “You left your mother a note, told her not to worry.”

  “Aye, but that wouldna stop her from worrying anyway. Mothers are like that.”

  “Some are, I suppose.”

  It was his tone that had her wrapping her arms about his waist to take over the comforting, “Och, that was thoughtless o’ me. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he replied, admitting, “It had been my hope to diffuse that old bitterness, prior to marrying. It’s why I went to Scotland.”

  “It didna work?”

  “No, I hadn’t counted on all the old rage returning with just the sight of her. But never think you need to guard your words from me or tiptoe around the few old wounds I carry. Always speak your mind to—”

  The sound of running footsteps ended their conversation abruptly. They had just enough time to move apart before Kimberly rushed into the room. Her eyes went immediately to Melissa and stayed there for several long moments, looking her over from top to bottom.

  “Yes, I knew you were fine, didn’t have a single doubt,” Kimberly finally said.

  That statement was belied, of course, by her hasty entrance and the close examination that had followed. Neither Lincoln nor Melissa cared to point that out.

  “Did you marry?” Kimberly said next.

  “No,” Lincoln replied, but then he added meaningfully, “not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  Lincoln’s expression showed clearly he wasn’t expecting that question, at least not so bluntly and in an almost accusatory tone, as if Kimberly were saying, “You should have.”

  Melissa stepped in to explain. “We were going ta
e be wed, were able tae be. Nothing would have prevented us—but Lincoln saw that m’happiness wouldna be complete without m’family and friends present for the ceremony. He brought me home so we can do this properly, because it means a lot tae me, and m’happiness means a lot tae him.”

  Kimberly nodded. “I knew there was a reason I liked him—aside from the fact that you do.”

  Lincoln wasn’t expecting to hear that either. “Then you aren’t against our getting married?” he asked.

  “Not a’tall. I’m on your side, have been from the moment Meli said she wanted you. Besides, I listened to your heartrending story and watched you walk out of here after being delivered a devastating blow, without the least show of abnormal behavior from it. I don’t share my husband’s worry on that score.”

  “I am grateful for your support,” Lincoln said.

  “Don’t be. Lachlan is known to put up his defenses and get stubborn when I argue with him, so my opinion could be more harmful than beneficial.”

  “What she means is, arguing wi’ her makes m’da verra unhappy,” Melissa said.

  “Nevertheless, I appreciate her faith in me—”

  “Hold on, now,” Kimberly interrupted with a stern look. “That I support your marrying my daughter is based on her instincts and feelings for you—and the fact that you have acquitted yourself admirably under opposition. Don’t think I’m not displeased with you for running off with her, but also don’t think I’m not delighted with your reasons for bringing her back either. I simply don’t know you well enough to have an opinion of you that isn’t influenced by her opinion. For this to go forward, I think that we need to correct that major lack. I know it needs to be corrected, if there’s to be any hope of swaying my husband in this matter.”

  Lincoln nodded solemnly. Melissa gave him an encouraging smile. “That isna as bad as it sounds.”

  “I know. Your family has no knowledge of me, other than of my past. Had that past not occurred exactly as it did, and had I remained in Scotland, I’ve no doubt we would have met sooner, might even have been childhood friends.”