Love Me Forever
But he was not going to rush something he’d dreamed of nightly since he’d last held her thusly. He’d ignited a fire and he was going to fan it slowly, and fan it he did.
She trembled when his tongue circled her ear, then delved inside it. She groaned when it soon flicked and teased the hard little nub her nipple had become. But she soared half off the bed when it licked a path down her belly and then…God, she couldn’t let him do that! But she was powerless in her desire, mindless in her ecstasy, and he was so damned determined to know every facet of her, to bring her every pleasure.
It was a pleasure almost too intense as it took her and swept her along on its pulsing waves. Even the aftershocks were profound, so much so that when Lachlan entered her, filled her with his warm flesh, and buried himself to her core, she climaxed again within seconds, and minutes later, yet again, when he groaned his own release.
She was asleep before her breathing quieted, and so deeply, she didn’t feel him gather her close, or hear his sigh of contentment.
“You’re mine now, darlin’. Like it or no’, come morning you’ll be knowing it.”
Kimberly didn’t hear that either, which was a good thing, or she might not have slept a wink.
32
Lachlan had meant to stay awake, he really did. Mostly because he’d had every intention of making love to Kimberly again, and again, throughout the long night. She was going to have little doubt, come morning, that they were meant for each other. No more excuses. She’d not be talking her way out of marrying him this time. And he couldn’t have been more delighted.
And the irony was, he hadn’t come to her room with the idea of seducing her. Not that it wasn’t always on his mind, but last night, he’d merely wanted to know why she’d gone to see Will Ables.
And he hadn’t even needed to ask. She’d explained it quick enough. What he hadn’t counted on hearing was that she was willing to prove his innocence at the expense of her own reputation. She had in fact been willing to do so all along, if it became necessary.
He’d been so moved, in realizing that she really did care about him, must care about him, despite her assertions to the contrary, that he’d been unable to resist claiming her then and there. And she’d let him. If he’d had any doubts left, her passionate, yielding response to his lovemaking put them to rest.
Aye, he’d meant to stay awake, and leave her as he did the other time, before the dawn. He would have returned at a decent hour to settle things between them. But the first indication that that plan had gone awry was the soft humming that woke him, of a cheerful little tune, and the sounds of the fire being stoked.
Any rekindling of the fire in his own room he had to do himself. The maids who attended such things simply wouldn’t enter his room until midday, long after there could be no doubt that he’d be up and about.
Yet there was no mistaking that a fire was being tended to across the room, and not by Kimberly, because there was definitely no mistaking her warmth still beside him in the bed. In fact, she was so wrapped to him that the arm about his neck was nigh choking him, and she had a leg flung clear across his hips. Hard to miss either of those limbs, he thought with a mental chuckle.
But this was an unexpected turn that Lachlan certainly hadn’t counted on. And he didn’t imagine that he could go unnoticed, great hulking body that he’d been cursed with, not unless the maid was near blind. That would be stretching his luck a wee bit too far, when he’d had little enough of it lately for any stretching at all.
But what happened was rather comical, at least he was to think so later.
At the present, though, there was nothing amusing about it, with Kimberly stretching sensually against him, having also been awakened, apparently, by the sounds the maid was making. That wouldn’t have been so bad either, faith, was damn pleasant actually, but no sooner did he think so than she was sitting up and screaming her head off. And not a second later, the blasted maid was doing the same thing, screaming loud enough to bring the roof down.
Lachlan sat up himself then, mumbling a few unmentionables about his poor ears. The maid was staring at him boggle-eyed, her sooty hands covering her shocked cheeks. One glare from him and she ran out of there, with Kimberly yelling after her, “Mary! Mary, come back here this instant!” but to no avail. The door was slammed shut and wasn’t reopened. Then there was a half growl, half shriek as Kimberly buried her head beneath her pillow.
Lachlan lay back down, his arms crossed casually behind his head, his brows half-lifted, and remarked in an exceedingly dry tone, “It could’ve been worse, darlin’. She could have stayed.”
“Ohhh!” Kimberly exclaimed, coming out from under the pillow to scald him with her eyes. “You have no idea, no conception…she’s the biggest gossip this side of the Atlantic! Do you know what that means?!”
“It means we’ll be getting married.”
And then he smiled at her. He couldn’t help himself. He wouldn’t have sealed her fate quite so dramatically, not for the world, but now that it was done, he couldn’t manage to be displeased.
Kimberly, on the other hand, wasn’t a bit pleased. She looked like she was about ready to pound her fists against him, or at the very least, her pillow.
“You’re a fool, Lachlan, if you think anything is that simple.”
Having made that cryptic statement, she flounced off the bed in search of a robe. He had to remind his body that this wasn’t the time to pay attention to the fact that she was stomping about naked. After last night, his body wasn’t inclined to listen.
Kimberly was furious, more so at herself than the man in her bed. This time there’d been no champagne to blame. She hadn’t had a single glass of wine at dinner last night. She had been perfectly sober, perfectly aware of what she’d been doing.
What she’d done was ruin her life. And for what? Pleasure. She’d wanted the pleasure Lachlan could lavish on her, did lavish on her. But this time she was going to pay for it with not just one, but two scandals, and with a husband who loved someone else. And all because she didn’t have enough will to ignore Lachlan MacGregor.
She came back to the bed now, knotting the belt on a pink velvet robe that barely covered her breasts. In fact it left a deep V down to her belly, designed as it was to be worn over a nightgown, not without one.
But Kimberly was too upset to notice, too intent on releasing some of her fury. Lachlan, sensualist that he was, couldn’t help but notice, despite the emerald green eyes shooting sparks at him.
“Why are you still here?” she demanded, glowering down at him. “Are you waiting for someone to barge in here to verify Mary’s shocking tale? You’ll no doubt find ten maids out in the hallway waiting to do just that as soon as you leave. Why disappoint them?”
He ignored her sarcasm. “I’m waiting tae hear you say you’ll marry me.”
“Did I miss something, MacGregor? Were you not just found in my bed as if you belong there? As soon as the duke hears of this, there will be no alternative.”
Mentioning his nemesis was not why Lachlan suddenly shot off the bed, showing some annoyance himself now. Shocking Kimberly wasn’t his intention either, though he managed to do that just the same.
She blushed profusely. She was still too new to lovemaking to accept easily the sight of him standing there across from her in all his masculine glory.
“There was no alternative, Kimber, no matter who hears of this. But I still havena heard you say you’ll marry me, and I’m no’ leaving until I do.”
That snapped her out of her shock. “Yes, I will! And I hope you’re satisfied, because you surely won’t be after all is said and done. When my father finds out—”
“I’ll deal wi’ your da, darlin’, never fear,” he said with complete confidence.
She started to correct the impression that he’d obviously gotten, that it was only an upset parent he had to face, rather than a prejudiced one. But she was too angry at the moment to get into that, and she’d given him warning. If he
chose to scoff…
“You know, Kimber,” he continued as he located his clothes and started to dress, “it occurs tae me that they’ll no’ believe you if you tell them now that you were wi’ me the night the horses were stolen. They’ll think you’re just trying tae protect me. ’Twould seem we’ve no choice now but tae find the real thief.”
She was not feeling the least bit agreeable at the moment and so didn’t offer a reply. She just wanted him out of there and as quickly as possible, so she could go about the business of bemoaning her fate in private. But her look said, there’s no “we” involved here.
To her chagrin, his look said, there is now.
And there were only eight maids lurking about in the hallway when Lachlan finally walked out the door.
33
The summons came about noon, to join the duchess in her formal sitting room. Kimberly groaned. It certainly hadn’t taken very long for her shame to reach Megan’s ears.
But then Kimberly shouldn’t have been all that surprised. Just minutes after he left, Lachlan had pounded on the wall to her room to yell, “You were off by two, darlin’. I only counted eight maids.”
She’d thrown a book at the wall, wishing it were his head instead. And she was going to dismiss her maid the minute she dared to show her face. That wouldn’t help her predicament, but might teach the girl a thing or two about loyalty, though that was doubtful.
Kimberly arrived at the ducal rooms precisely on time. She was prepared for the most uncomfortable and embarrassing meeting of her life. She’d dressed in somber hues accordingly. She couldn’t have been more nervous if she thought her father was inside. Actually, she did expect Devlin St. James to be on hand, summoned from his vigil in the woods to lend his official displeasure to the proceedings.
As it happened, only Megan’s secretary was in the formal sitting room to let her in. The doors to the connecting rooms on either side of it were closed, though the secretary wasted no time in knocking on one now, and a moment later, Megan entered through it.
“Ah, good,” the duchess said, smiling at Kimberly. “Will Ables will be escorted here shortly, and I’ve got four Scotsmen waiting in Devlin’s room there.” She nodded toward the other connecting door. “I had a bit of luck in that, I’m pleased to say. My neighbor to the north, Mr. Kennedy, had his uncle visiting, and that gentleman has agreed to help us as well—you look surprised, m’dear. Didn’t you think I could arrange our little experiment this quickly?”
Kimberly’s mouth had dropped open. She forced it closed now. Surprised? She almost laughed. Her relief was incredible. Megan was merely giving her an inquiring look, certainly nothing in the way of condemnation. She obviously hadn’t heard yet about Kimberly’s disgrace.
Which wasn’t to say she wouldn’t be having the meeting she had expected later, but for the moment she was reprieved. And yes, surprised. With her current dilemma taking precedence over Lachlan’s problem, at least in her self-castigating thoughts, she had completely forgotten about Will Ables and the demonstration.
So she said, “I did think it might require a bit more time.”
“No, no, I arranged everything early this morning. The only thing that would have delayed us was if Mr. Kennedy hadn’t been at home. And I must admit, I’m rather excited about this. I had my doubts all along about MacGregor, you know, but my husband was so certain and—well, I do like to prove him wrong occasionally.” Megan grinned. “Keeps him on his toes. And I do have a good feeling about this, especially with the odds improved now against Mr. Ables being able to guess his way out of it.”
Kimberly nodded. That would be the worst luck, if it happened, but Megan was right, the odds were better now with four Scotsmen, rather than just three.
It had to work.
Lachlan was undoubtedly right about the thief’s not showing up at that hut again. With so many people involved in that vigil, he was bound to know it was a trap and stay away. Yet she was now personally involved, was going to have to marry the man accused of the crime. If he wasn’t cleared, well, there was yet another scandal to add to the other two. Two she might weather, but a husband in prison? She might as well pack her bags and move to another country.
It had to work.
But she couldn’t count on it. Ables could, in fact, get very lucky. And then what? Yes, this did seem to be their last hope, but if it didn’t work, then an alternate plan was needed. But what? Damn, she should have thought of something sooner.
Quickly, she put the known pieces all together again while they waited. Had she missed anything? She went over and over again each little thing from the day it happened and beyond, even the fact that the thief had so little care for the horses that he didn’t bother to try and separate them. The bashed head that wasn’t really bashed, the hour the theft had occurred, the fact that Lachlan was so sick with drink that night and why he was, the obvious lie from Ables, obvious to her and Lachlan…
One thing did finally stand out that she hadn’t really considered before. The very fact that someone of Ables’s social class had accused a lord, albeit a Scottish one. That seemed quite out of place, not something that someone like Ables would do, unless, of course, it was true. But since it wasn’t, it seemed more like something someone would tell him to do, someone who would have no qualms about accusing a lord…perhaps another lord?
“’Ere now, what’s this all about?”
Two menservants escorted Will Ables into the room. Apparently, they hadn’t told him why the duchess had requested his presence. At the moment, he was looking quite leery and nervous, which was a logical reaction possibly, except, if he had nothing to be worried about, wouldn’t simple curiosity be more appropriate?
Megan smiled to put him at ease. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Ables. This won’t take long a’tall, just a few questions and a brief demonstration, then you can get back to work.”
“Questions?”
“About the theft.”
His expression turned defensive. “Didn’t I answer all there was to answer for ’is Lordship?”
“Yes, I’m sure you did, but my husband was quite upset at the time. After all, no one had ever stolen Sherring Cross horses before. So he may have missed a point or two. For instance, what exactly did you hear Lord MacGregor say that caused you to recognize his voice?”
“Ah, I don’t rightly recollect, Your Grace.”
“Try, Mr. Ables. Was he talking to someone else, or to himself, or possibly to the horses he was stealing? Was he mumbling or shouting or—”
“’E were talkin’ normal-like, which is why it were easy to recognize ’is voice,” Will answered, having found some confidence.
“Very good, and what did he say? Take your time, if necessary, Mr. Ables. We do want to be accurate.”
“What’s it matter what ’e said? I ’eard a noise. I went to ’ave a look-see. I ’ear the Scot talkin’, and the next thing ’appens, I get coshed on the ’ead.”
“Yes, very simple, except he might have been talking to an accomplice, might have mentioned a name. Or you might have been confused in what you heard. After all, you were wakened from a sound sleep. It’s possible you weren’t fully awake when you heard the voice.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, Your Grace, but I know what I ’eard. It were that Scot MacGregor’s voice. There be no mistake in that.”
“Then you’d recognize his voice again if you heard it?” Megan asked casually.
“Certainly.”
“Very well, just for the sake of clarity, would you tell me which of these voices you’re going to hear belongs to Lachlan MacGregor?”
“What voices?” Will frowned.
Megan nodded to one of the servants, who then crossed the room to open the door to the connecting suite. No one was seen beyond that door, just the usual furniture one would find in a very elegant bedroom.
Kimberly spared barely a glance in that room, she was watching Will Ables, whose frown had grown deeper. He still didn’t quite understand w
hat was going on or expected of him. But when that first voice spoke from the other room, his eyes rounded and he turned quite pale.
“Was it me ye heard, laddie? If sae, speak up now an’ say sae.”
“Or was it me ye were hearin’ tha’ night, mon? Dinna hesitate. I’ve been accused o’ worse, an’ there’s naething muir I’ll be sayin’ aboot tha’, I’m thinkin’.”
“Or mayhap it was myself you heard, laddie? As it happens, I’ve a fondness for both horses and head bashing.”
“Och now, it mun ha’ been meself ye heard, wasna it, lad? Aye, I’ve a verra distinctive voice, I’m tald, verra hard tae be mistakin’.”
Kimberly was amazed herself, at the strong difference in each man’s voice, either in his tone or the thickness of his brogue. No two of them had sounded a bit alike really, which should have made it quite easy for Will Ables to pick the third voice, which she had recognized as Lachlan’s—unless he’d never heard Lachlan’s voice before.
And yet he stood there, his owl-like blue eyes about as wide as they could get, apprehension in every line of his face. And he said nothing. His very silence condemned him as far as Kimberly was concerned, because he knew he’d be condemned if he made the wrong choice.
Megan must have realized it also. Her smile was a bit on the triumphant side when she said, “Well, Mr. Ables, which is it then? Which voice did you hear in the stable just before you were attacked?”
He was so panicked at that point that he blundered badly with the question, “MacGregor’s one o’ them?”
Megan lifted a brow. “You have to ask?”
He lost a bit more color. “No, no, I ’eard ’is voice just now, I did. It’s the order, the counting—I ’ave trouble with numbers, ye see. If I could ’ave a look-see at the gentlemen, I could point ’im out—”