Chapter Nineteen
When Arnprior released her hand, Victoria let it hang slack between them. All she could do was stare at him. He looked like he hated himself—and the world.
“I . . . I don’t know what to say,” she said, struggling with disbelief, “except that your wife must have lost her reason. Surely she had no cause to take her own life.”
“She was desperately unhappy. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize how unhappy. I thought she was simply angry with me because I insisted she move back to Kinglas if she wished to save our marriage. Staying in Glasgow was not an acceptable option.”
“Indeed not,” she said gently.
“Janet thought that I should trust her enough to let her remain at Kendrick House.” He sighed. “I truly wish I had let her do so, regardless of what might have happened.”
He didn’t seem to realize he’d just contradicted his belief that he should have been more decisive with his wife. As far as Victoria was concerned, that confirmed he’d been dealing with an impossible situation.
“What happened after you brought her back to Kinglas?” she asked.
“Nothing, at first. She was happy to see Cam again, and we both made an effort to try to recover what we once had. But my blasted family didn’t make it easy. They were hurt by her betrayal of me and the Kendrick name.”
“One can hardly blame them.”
“No, but I should have realized the effect their disapproval would have on her sensitive nature. I should have done a better job of protecting her, especially from Angus.”
Victoria knew how furious the old man would have been over the betrayal of his laird and grandson.
“They fought, I’m guessing.”
“Yes. Janet had been chafing at what she’d begun to refer to as her incarceration. It had been a particularly cold and dreary winter, and she’d been pressing me to let her return to Glasgow. Angus told her that her duty was to remain at Kinglas with her husband and child, and she should stop acting like a spoiled brat. Naturally, that started a tremendous row.”
She winced, well able to imagine the dreadful scene. “That does sound like Angus.”
“Indeed. When I refused to take her immediately to Glasgow, Janet accused me of not trusting her.” He grimaced. “At that point, I also lost my temper and told her that her past conduct made such trust all but impossible. That was when she claimed that if I’d loved her enough and been there for her, she wouldn’t have sought comfort with other men.”
It took Victoria a moment to tamp down her anger toward the unfortunate woman. “That, sir, is utter nonsense. Your wife’s accusations point to the fact that her mind was sadly disordered. It was not a rational claim to make.”
“In hindsight, I see that. At the time, I simply thought Janet was punishing me when she said she’d rather die than keep living at Kinglas.” He shook his head. “Not for a minute did I think she was serious, but that night she took an overdose of laudanum. Her maid didn’t realize she’d done so, and I . . . well, I wasn’t with her, so none of us knew what happened until it was too late.”
Victoria had to swallow a few times before she could speak. “It was hardly your fault that you weren’t sharing her bedchamber, given the state of your relationship.”
“I should have—”
“No,” she said firmly. “You would never have left her if you thought she would do such a thing. Only a deeply troubled person would take so tragic a step, leaving behind a husband and a child who loved her.” When he didn’t say anything, she tugged on his hand. “You realize that, do you not?”
His reluctant smile was more of a grimace. “My poor wife was indeed a deeply troubled soul. I will also say that it wasn’t even fully clear that she meant to kill herself. According to her maid, she’d grown reckless with her dosing. The physician was exceedingly sympathetic to our situation and recorded the death as an accidental overdose.”
She breathed out a relieved sigh. “Thank God.”
“It allowed us to give Janet a Christian burial. I was very grateful, especially for Cam’s sake.”
“Poor little boy,” she said softly.
He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a brief kiss to it before letting it go. She got the oddest sense that he was withdrawing from her.
“Cam was upset, naturally, but he recovered quickly. Although she loved him, Janet never spent much time with him.”
“That was a small blessing, I suppose.”
“Yes, and with him to care for, I could not afford to wallow in grief. Until I lost him as well, of course, and then I wallowed and raged to my heart’s content.” He glanced at her, his mouth pulled into a bitter line. “I warned you that it wasn’t a pretty tale, Victoria.”
“You did, and I’m grateful you trusted me enough to tell me,” she said quietly.
“Of course I trust you.” He placed his hands on his thighs and frowned. “More than anyone I know, I’m beginning to think.”
“Then please trust me when I say that you did all you could to help your wife. That is patently evident.”
He let out a skeptical snort and reached over to retrieve his glass. When he saw it was empty, he started to rise from his chair.
“No,” Victoria said, jumping up. She planted a hand on his chest and pushed him back down. “No more whisky.”
He scowled at her. “I don’t need your pity, lass. I need another drink.”
“No,” she said, plucking the glass from his hand and putting it on the table.
Before she could think better of it, she clambered awkwardly into his lap. When he shifted, clearly startled, she had to make a grab for his broad shoulders.
“What are you doing, daft girl?” he said, clamping his arms around her waist. Even though he didn’t seem inclined to push her off, he scowled at her. “I already told you—I don’t need your pity.”
“This isn’t pity.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m offering comfort, you thick-headed, stubborn Highlander.”
He scoffed. “I’m not one of your pupils, Miss Knight. I don’t need you to pet me or jolly me out of my doldrums.”
“No, but I do think you stand in need of a lecture.”
“And you will deliver one, whether I wish it or not,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting in a reluctant smile.
Still, sadness lurked in his gaze. She sensed how easy it would be for him to again retreat behind a somber façade. Arnprior had seemed much happier these last few weeks, despite Logan’s reappearance and the opening of old wounds. Victoria couldn’t bear the idea that her handsome laird would again let grief and guilt darken his spirits.
She leaned in and kissed him on the tip of his nose, as he’d done to her a number of times over the last few weeks. When that gesture pulled up the other corner of his mouth in a full smile, it gave her the courage to proceed.
“Lord Arnprior, let me just note that you are the kindest, most principled, and most decent man I have ever met.”
“That’s not much of a lecture,” he said, moving one hand to caress along her spine.
Victoria had to force herself to concentrate instead of lean into his strong hand. “That was just the introduction, sir. In addition to my prior comment, you are also stubborn, arrogant, and prone to an exaggerated sense of responsibility. I understand completely how difficult life has been for you and your family, and you have personally suffered more than any man should. But the tragedies that befell you were not your fault. You did the best you could to love and care for your entire family, and no rational person could ask more from you than that.”
His hand came to rest between her shoulder blades. “I could have asked more of myself.”
She poked him in the cravat. “What you must accept is that life can be messy, irrational, and horribly sad. Some things and people are simply out of our control, no matter how hard we try to manage them. It serves no purpose to waste energy in questioning every action you may or may not have taken. Such unending reassessment simply weighs you down and keeps you from appreciating the gifts that life has granted you, here and now.”
Ironically, Victoria realized she needed to apply the same lesson to herself. For weeks, she’d partly blamed herself for the debacle with Thomas Fletcher, for not being smarter or more careful. But the fault lay entirely with her attacker, and to continue to blame herself stood in the way of her own peace of mind.
Arnprior adopted an expression of polite interest. “That was an excellent lecture, Miss Knight. No wonder you’re a governess.”
“I apologize if I overstepped my boundaries, sir.”
“I’m teasing. You could never overstep with me. Your words are both kind and wise, and I will do my best to take them to heart.” He gave her a wry smile. “And I confess that you’re not the first person to make a similar point.”
“Royal?”
“Indeed, although as a younger brother, I can ignore him in good conscience. You, however, I cannot. After all, you’re going to be my wife.”
When he leaned down to kiss her, she placed a hand on his chest.
“Now what?” he asked with an aggrieved sigh.
“I meant it when I said you were not obliged to marry me.”
“Really? Sir Dominic and your brother would likely say otherwise.”
Suddenly nervous and very aware of the burgeoning erection pressing into her bottom, she fidgeted with his cravat. “Yes, about that. I do think I should have a say in the decision too.”
His hand dropped away from where it had been resting in the curve of her lower back. “I would never force you to do anything you don’t wish to do, Victoria. But your choices are limited. You are a gently bred young woman who was found with a single gentleman in compromising circumstances.”
“I know, but—”
He frowned. “Are you against marriage in general? If that’s the case—”
She patted his chest. “No, it’s not that, although I will miss teaching and spending time with children. It’s probably odd of me to admit it, but I enjoy my work.”
“You don’t have to give that up, at least not entirely. Two of the villages attached to Kinglas are in dire need of proper grammar schools. That has been on my list of priorities, and I would be happy to turn my plans for that over to you.”
“You would do that for me?” she asked. To be able to establish her school in some form after all . . . it seemed almost too good to be true.
“You’ve got it backwards, love. You would be doing it for me.”
“That’s . . . that’s very kind of you,” she stammered. To have both Arnprior and the work she loved was more than she could ever have asked for.
“I’m not being kind, Victoria, because I’m getting something out of this too.”
Her heart sank. That, right there, was the heart of the matter.
“Why does that bother you?” he asked, reading her consternation. “Do you not think we will suit? If so, understand that I emphatically disagree.”
Victoria carefully rested her hands on his shoulders. “Why do you think we suit?”
She should have just asked him directly what he got out of it, but her nerve had failed.
“You mean besides the fact that you’re beautiful and desirable, and I will finally get you into my bed?” he murmured, sliding his hand up to curl possessively around her neck.
“Yes, aside from that,” she said skeptically. There was nothing wrong with her looks, but she was no great beauty, either.
He laughed. “Love, you are a difficult woman to persuade. Very well. In what other ways do we suit? For one, you have taken to Kinglas and the Highlands. At least, you don’t entirely hate the old pile.”
“Of course I don’t. It’s a splendid old place, and it’s your home. How could I not like it?”
“Excellent. Now, for another thing, you manage my family and household exceedingly well. Everyone adores you.”
Including you?
“Not Angus,” she said.
“Don’t be so sure. Actually, I think the old fellow is quite smitten with you.”
She had to smile. “That’s silly.”
“On my honor as a soldier. You’ve completely tamed him.”
“If you say so. Now, what about you?” she made herself say.
He gave her a perplexed smile. “Have you tamed me? I didn’t know I needed taming.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m wondering if you’re . . . smitten with me, too. Just a little bit, anyway,” she added awkwardly.
When he gave her an incredulous stare, she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. Of course he didn’t love her. He desired her and he had practical need of her, but it was ridiculous to think that a man like him could ever love a woman like her.
“Just ignore me,” she said, forcing a laugh. “I’m teasing.”
When she tried to slide off his lap, his arms clamped around her.
“You’re not going anywhere, madam,” he said sternly. “To be honest, I cannot believe a woman of your intellect can be so utterly devoid of sense in this regard.”
She bristled. “There’s no need to be insulting, sir.”
“Smitten with you, just a little bit,” he echoed. “Good God, Victoria. You’re all I bloody well think about, day and night—especially the nights. You would realize that if you stopped avoiding me.”
She stopped trying to escape his grip. “Are you sure? I need you to be sure.”
“Am I sure? Let me show you, just a little bit.”
He took her mouth with a kiss that ignited fire in her veins. When she opened to him, he growled low in his throat, the sound raw and seductive as it reverberated through her.
Victoria slid her hands around his neck, lacing her fingers through the silky hair that curled over his collar. Then she wriggled, snuggling deeper into his embrace. He groaned and flexed his hips as he nudged his erection against her bottom.
It shocked her how much she wanted to feel him—all of him. She’d never wanted that before, but she did with Arnprior, and with a reckless desire that made her shift restlessly on his lap.
He kissed her until she lost all sense of time and place, endless, luscious kisses that had her trembling in his arms. Then he slowly pulled back, when all she wanted was more.
She opened her eyes to meet his molten gaze. “Why are you stopping?”
His smile looked more like a grimace. “Lass, if I don’t slow down, I’m going to have you flat on your back with your feet in the air. That is not what I have planned for you tonight.”
She blushed at the graphic description, mostly because it sounded so enticing. “I . . . I wouldn’t mind.”
“God, don’t tempt me,” he said, flexing his hips. “I don’t want to frighten you, my sweet.”
Her gown and chemise provided only a whisper of protection as his erection rubbed her most sensitive part. She was tempted too, wanting him to assuage the delicious ache building deep inside her body.
Victoria kissed him with a provocative pressure that was new to her. When Arnprior responded by slipping his tongue between her lips, she boldly sucked him into her mouth. She could no longer doubt his feelings for her, or the shared intensity of their desire. Arnprior wanted her as a woman—his woman—not as a helpmate or useful convenience.
He’d shared his deepest sorrows and secrets. He’d shared his soul, making himself vulnerable to show the depth of his need for her. To say no to him now would make her a coward, pretending to be sensible when what really held her back was fear.
Victoria was tired of being afraid, and tired of denying what she truly wanted.
She retreated from the kiss but slid her hands around to cup his face. His blue eyes were stark with a passion that all but scorched her.
“I’m not afraid,” she whispered. “I want this too.”
One corner of his mouth tipped up in a wry smile. “You’re not afraid of anything, are you? But your first time shouldn’t be like this. We’ll need more privacy. And we’ll need the entire night, since I want us to sleep together.”
Victoria blew out an aggrieved sigh. Now he was saying no to her?
He caressed her thigh. “Don’t worry, lass. I’ll take care of you.”
“I do hope so,” she said, before she could think better of it. She winced at his delighted chuckle.
“Very well, madam. Tell me what you want.”
She wasn’t sure how to put it into words, so she turned the question back on him. “What do you want?”
One of his dark brows went up at the challenge. “For starters, I’d like to see more of you.” He traced a fingertip along the top of her bodice, leaving a trail of heat across her skin. “I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time fantasizing about your breasts.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she said, trying to repress a smile.
“You asked.”
“Help me sit up,” she said.
He supported her as she squirmed fully upright. That was actually quite delightful, since it pressed his erection against her sex. When he nudged her, she couldn’t help wriggling a bit more, gasping at the small spasm that pulsed deep between her thighs.
“We won’t get very far if you keep that up,” Arnprior said in a strained voice.
“I’m not doing anything,” she said.
When he narrowed his eyes and gave her a mock growl, she couldn’t hold back a giggle. She’d never imagined this could be fun, but teasing him was both amusing and exciting.
Victoria reached around to unbutton the top of her gown, then slipped the short sleeves off her arms, letting the bodice sag to her waist. The hitch in his breath bolstered her courage to keep going, so she pulled down the straps of her chemise, pushing that down to her waist too.
That left her covered only in stays, an exceedingly plain set that laced up the front. It certainly wasn’t a garment designed for seduction.
He settled his warm hand on her chest, just above the stays. “God,” he murmured, “you’re so beautiful.”
When he dipped a finger inside, the callused tip brushing over her nipple, Victoria had to bite her lip to hold back a moan. He teased her until the nipple fully beaded up, stiff and throbbing with pleasure.
“Would you like me to take off my stays?” she said breathlessly, wanting more.
His eyes lit up with a combination of lust and amusement. “Since I’ve been trying to peer discreetly down the front of your gowns for weeks, I’d say the answer is yes.”
She huffed out a nervous laugh as she began unlacing. His gaze narrowed as he watched her.
Victoria drew the process out, covering for a sudden spurt of nerves. No one would ever call her buxom—skinny was more apt. Because men seemed to like ladies built along more generous lines, she couldn’t help wondering if he would find her lacking.
Impatiently, Arnprior brushed aside her hands and tugged down the stays. Her breasts spilled out, soft and pale in the flickering light of the fire.
“Damn, Victoria,” he murmured. “You’re a bloody goddess.”
He curled a hand around her breast, gently massaging it and playing with her nipple. Sensation sparked underneath his fingertips.
“Now you’re just being silly,” she managed in a breathless voice.
Arnprior’s gaze came up to meet hers, and he leaned in, flicking his tongue along the seam of her mouth. When he nipped her lower lip, she groaned and grabbed for his shoulders. When he stroked her again, she felt heat and dampness build between her thighs.
“Look at your nipples,” he murmured. “Stiff and pink, and perfect for my mouth.”
When he gently pinched one between his fingertips, she whimpered. He bent her back over his arm, then came down to her, sucking the rigid tip into his mouth.
Victoria melted into his powerful embrace. When his firm mouth drew on her, the pleasure was so sharp it made her shudder. She wrapped a hand around the back of his head, holding him close to her breast and silently urging him on.
Arnprior pleasured her with a relentless passion, going from one breast to the other, lavishing attention on her sensitive nipples. She clung to him, her eyelids fluttering shut, her body adrift on a dark, languid sea. When he gently bit one of her nipples, she couldn’t hold back a soft cry. Her insides clenched as small spasms rippled deep within.
When he pulled away, she opened her eyes and tried to focus through the pleasure fogging her brain.
His gaze devoured her, as hard and bright as diamonds, and his smile curved with a fierce satisfaction. He’d never looked more like an untamed Highlander than he did at this moment.
“Lass, I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you,” he said, his brogue lacing his voice with a delicious, deep note. “Of that you can be sure.”
She found that hard to believe, but it was a lovely sentiment anyway.
He swept a gentle hand down her body, lingering on her breast and belly before coming to rest on her thigh.
Her naked thigh.
Victoria glanced down and blinked in surprise. She’d been so distracted by his sensual attentions that she’d failed to notice how he’d inched her skirts up over her knees. Her stockings and garters were in full view, as were inches of skin above them.
When he grasped her crumpled skirts and pulled them up even higher, Victoria squeaked with shock. He’d exposed everything, including the nest of silky hair at the top of her thighs, which only partly hid her most intimate parts.
She jerked when he brushed his fingers through those curls.
“Easy, lass,” he murmured. “I just want to play with you and make you feel good.” He petted her, as if she were a kitten, and flashed her a roguish grin. “I’d been wondering if you were as blond down there.”
Victoria’s face was burning up—as was the rest of her. He leaned down to cover her lips in a searing, demanding kiss that left her breathless and wanting more, so much more.
When he raised his head, his amusement had vanished. His gaze was once more intent, and his handsome features were pulled in hard, almost savage, lines. He pressed his fingers through her curls, slipping bluntly between her folds. Victoria all but lifted off his lap.
“You’re so wet,” he muttered as he stroked her. “What I wouldn’t give to taste you.”
She clung to his arms. “Um, what?”
“I’ll show you next time. Just relax, love. Enjoy this.”
When his fingers dipped even lower between her thighs, she moaned. Her muscles went weak as he teased the slick entrance to her channel before moving up to gently massage the tight little bud that ached for his touch.
To relax was impossible. Yes, she felt all but boneless under his passionate attentions, shivering in his arms. But as her arousal built, gathering in her core, Victoria grew ever more restless.
She was familiar with her own body, and she recognized the approaching climax. But never had her need been so intense. The feel of his big hands on her body, blunt-fingered and hard yet also tender and knowing, was like nothing she’d ever experienced. His every caress seemed to pour heat and magic through her veins.
When he slipped a finger into her, Victoria curled forward. Sensation rippled outward, sending her to the edge.
“Nicholas,” she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut and digging her fingers into his waistcoat.
“Yes, love,” he gritted out. “Almost there.”
When his hand slid down to her inner thigh, her eyes popped open. He slowly pushed open her legs, spreading her wide. Victoria’s breath fractured as she gazed down at herself, sprawled in his lap. She was all but naked, her body flushed with passion, her curls dewy and glistening from her arousal.
She should be ashamed at the wanton display, abandoning herself to passion in the arms of a man not yet her husband. And yet, she felt no shame. Vulnerable, yes, and even a little frightened at the onslaught of such powerful emotions. But in Arnprior’s strong arms, she’d never felt safer or more cherished.
She raised a hand to his face, tenderly cupping his cheek as she stared into his eyes. Then his gaze once again swept over her body, focusing on her parted thighs. He slowly pushed two fingers inside her as he flicked his thumb over her slick bud. When Victoria started to moan, he bent and fastened his lips to hers, swallowing the sound. She shook in his arms as pleasure stormed through her body. When her climax reached its peak, she breathed a sob into his mouth and then curled into the shelter of his broad chest.
His hand gently cupped her sex, softly stroking as the ripples faded away. Victoria sucked in air, trying to slow her pounding heart. When her lungs—and her brain—started working again, she opened her eyes and stared dazedly up at him.
Arnprior’s eyes gleamed with unappeased hunger. “I trust that answers your question as to whether we will suit, Miss Knight. And that it lays to rest any further objections to our marriage. As far as I’m concerned, there isn’t a damn thing standing in the way of our getting married tomorrow. Not one.”
But there still was, of course, one very troublesome, very large impediment to their future wedded bliss.
And his name was Thomas Fletcher.