Hope Everlastin' Book 4 (6 page)

"Beth—"

"Shut up!" Her nostrils
flared, and it was obvious she was barely in control of her anger.
"I'll be more than happy to buy myself another identity, and more
than happy to take myself and my children as far away from here as
possible."

Lachlan's blood turned to
ice water. "I once told you I would never let you leave me. Tha'
hasna changed, lass."

"Hasn't it?" she asked
bitterly, trembling, tears falling in abandon down her cheeks. She
laughed a pathetic little sound that unnerved him more than her
hostility. "Maybe in the mid-eighteen hundreds, women put up with
egotistical windbags, but you're in my time now. Having a penis
doesn't give you the right to tell any woman what to do, or what
she can or can't think! So get it through your thick skull,
I
am
leaving, and
there isn't a
bloody
thing you can do to stop me."

"I can." He planted his
hands on his hips. "And I will."

"No." Something between a
smile and a grimace flashed across her mouth. "You're going to
leave this room and stay away from me. If you came through into
this life with even a smidgen of common sense, you'll tell yourself
you know you and I are finished!"

Lachlan stepped back on one
foot and snatched the poker iron from her grasp, then harshly flung
it to the floor. Beth stood paralyzed, staring at her extended
hands as if disbelieving he could have disarmed her with such speed
and such ease.

"I may be a wee behind the
times,
grádh mo chridhe—"

"Speak English!"

"Grádh mo
chridhe—
love o' ma heart, and tha' you are.
But right now I'm resistin’ a powerful urge to shake some sense
into you! Tis no' womonly to wield a weapon on a mon, no' unless
her virtue or her life is bein’ compromised. I bloody weel dare you
to stand there and tell me I have compromised you in any
way!"

Beth's fists clenched at
her sides and she shook violently. For but an instant, he thought
he glimpsed a man's visage with chilling pale eyes, flash in front
of her face. The semi-transparent features were grotesquely carved
with rage, almost demonic. Then her tirade began, and the memory of
it temporarily slipped from his mind.

"You tricked me into coming
here. You knew I was dying and you didn't even have the decency to
tell me before it happened! But you made sure you seduced me first,
didn't you? Oh, yeah. The great Lachlan Baird used all his wit and
charm to coax a virgin into his bed, just so he could have
everlasting companionship!"

"Enough! If you remember,
Beth, you were ma first as weel!"

"When I think back on how
gullible I was, I want to puke! I hate—" Her voice cracked, but she
forced the words, "hate you for every lie and stunt you've pulled
since the moment I first laid eyes on you!"

Lachlan chewed on his lower
lip for a time. He couldn't remember when he'd been angrier or more
hurt by mere words. If she had opened his wrist, or had pierced his
heart, he knew the pain would have been tolerable in comparison to
what he was suffering now.

"Are you done ventin’ yer
indignation at havin’ falling in love wi' such a reprobate?" he
asked tightly.

A masculine, rattling sound
emanated from her throat, shocking him. His head reared back with
neck-wrenching force when her left fist smashed into his jawline.
Searing pain shot up his jaw and exploded inside his head. If he
didn't know better, he would have sworn the blow had been dealt by
a man larger than himself.

Something else was wrong.
Before his mind could focus on it, her fists began to pound against
his chest.

He tried to justify her
actions, but couldn't. This was not mere anger. She was out of
control, and his temper had surfaced as a shield against her
assault. She shoved him, released a low cry and whirled to run in
the direction of the door. With a growled, "Och!" he bounded after
her, reaching her before she could grab the doorknob.

Fueled by a raw primordial
need to overpower her, he swung her thrashing form up into his arms
and carried her to the bed. He was beyond feeling the sting of her
hands striking him. Beyond caring that his superior strength and
size only served to enhance her rage. He tossed her onto the
bedcovers. Before he was fully on his knees atop the mattress, she
gripped the front of his shirt, rammed her bare feet against his
abdomen, and yanked. The linen ripped vertically, the tear seeming
to echo in the room. She cast off him, nearly toppling him over the
edge of the mattress, then scrambled to her hands and knees and
made a valiant effort to get off the far side of the
bed.

Lachlan lunged. He only
intended to stop her from eluding him, but beneath the strength of
his fingers one of the straps of her nightgown ripped away from the
back. With a cry of outrage, she whirled, swinging her arms, and
knocked him across the top of his head with the back of a hand. He
grunted as he wound his arms about her middle and wrestled her
toward the center of the mattress. Releasing a stream of curses
that made his ears turn crimson, she kicked, slapped, punched and
did her best to bite him. The latter he escaped by only a
hair'sbreadth most of the time. He kept one side of his face
pressed to the area between her shoulder blades, and one arm snugly
about her middle. With his free hand he grappled with her left arm,
the elbow of which repeatedly jabbed his rib cage. Once he anchored
both arms—

He released a howl of
surprise when her teeth sank into his raised forearm. Wrenching
free, he swung her face down onto the bed.

"Damn you!" she cried,
kicking him with her heels as he straddled her backside. She
attempted to buck him off, then buried her face into the covers and
screamed. The muffled release finally quieted her. She turned her
head, panting, straining to see him.

"Get off me!"

"Have I yer word you'll no'
raise anither hand to me?" he asked harshly, his breathing also
labored, his body quaking with the force of holding back the larger
portion of his anger.

After a laden pause, she
said, "Yes!"

Without hesitation, Lachlan
swung himself to her right. He no sooner sat beside her than she
flipped over and made a valiant bid to drive her left knee into his
chest. He blocked the blow with the same forearm she'd bitten.
Then, with a swift, fluid motion born of vexation he straddled her
abdomen, his large hands pinning her wrists to the mattress above
her head.

Breaths wheezed from him.
She was flushed and gasping, the mounds of her breasts rising and
falling, straining against the thin material as if to burst free at
any moment.

"You have to let me go
eventually," she panted, glaring at him. "And when you do, I swear
I'll...."

"Wha'?" he taunted,
lowering himself until his face was inches from hers. He could feel
her warm breath fan his neck, face, and the area now bared by the
torn shirt. "Wha's left, Beth?"

"Your manhood," she rasped.
Her eyes flashed. "With that jeweled dirk, I'll cut off
your—"

Her threat became garbled
when his mouth covered hers, crushing the inner lining of her lips
against her clenched teeth. She relentlessly bucked and squirmed
beneath him until, after what seemed like an exhausting eternity,
her struggles grew weaker. Lachlan lessened the pressure of his
mouth. He hadn't intended the action to be construed as a kiss,
only a means to stop her threat of castrating him. The idea that
she was angry enough to think it, let alone carry it out, horrified
him.

He would give up his life
again before he would allow her close enough to tamper with what
nature had bestowed upon him.

Fatigue robbing his temper
of fire, he eased up his head and wearily peered into her eyes. She
was still angry, but also spent of fight.

"Is this wha' you truly
want, Beth-lass?"

"Yes," she said
breathlessly.

His head drooped for a
brief time. He left the bed and headed for the door, saying over
his shoulder, "I'll no' bother you again."

He closed the door behind
him as he entered the hall, missing her choked, "That's not what I
meant."

Lachlan's hand remained on
the knob to the closed door when he spied Deliah and Winston
standing in the doorway to the nursery. He stiffened with
hostility, an instinctual response to the argument he was sure
would come. Although Deliah's eyes were soft with compassion,
Winston's held an unmistakable glint of reproach, and Lachlan was
reasonably sure he'd already choked down his quota of guilt for the
day.

He brusquely headed past
them but stopped when Deliah touched his arm. He drew in a deep
breath, faced her and sighed, "I've a hole for a brain, I
know."

She smiled sympathetically
and whispered, "I be sorry, Lachlan."

"Sorry for
wha'?"

Her head lowered as if she
were ashamed. "For no' tellin’ ye the truth afore I brought ye and
Beth back."

Puzzled, Lachlan looked
into Winston's pale gray-green eyes then placed a crooked finger
beneath Deliah's dimpled chin and lifted her face to his view. "Tis
no fault o' yers."

Tears rapidly sprang into
her eyes and her chin quivered. "Aye, I be responsible. I didna
tell ye because I wasna sure when the return would happen, and I
didna want ye and Beth to be anxious durin’ the
waitin’."

Fondly, Lachlan smiled and
bestowed a kiss on her brow. "Deliah-lass," he said, searching her
despondent eyes, "dinna you think tis time I paid ma dues for all
the trouble I've caused? I'm a foolish mon, I grant. I need to face
ma responsibilities."

"Lachlan." Winston paused
and frowned. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

"No' ready to hang me yet?"
Lachlan asked wryly.

Winston chuckled low. "No'
yet." He sobered, placed an arm about Deliah's shoulders and
frowned again. "Tha' was a nasty argument you had wi'
Beth."

This time Lachlan lowered
his head. "Aye. But no mair. I'll keep ma distance till we can
figure ou' where we go from here."

He looked up and beyond the
couple, to where the crib was located halfway across the room. "Are
the bairns asleep?"

Deliah nodded. "Do ye want
to see them?"

Shaking his head, he turned
to leave. "No' yet," he said and headed for the
staircase.

He kept his mind blank
during the descent. Turning left at the bottom of the stairs, he
walked toward the doors and was nearly to them before he saw three
small bodies blocking his exit. He slowed to a stop and regarded
their upturned faces.

Alby was teary-eyed, Kahl
frowning, and Kevin as angry as a riled hornet.

"Where you going?" asked
Kahl, his reddish blond hair tousled, his eyes laden with sleep.
"It's raining hard out there."

Lachlan glanced at the
double doors and murmured, "Is it?"

"Why do you havta do so
many stupid things?" Kevin asked harshly. His brothers gave him a
shocked look, but he ignored them and went on, "If you was my size,
you'd get your butt swatted and spend some serious time staring at
the walls of your bedroom."

Lachlan didn't want to
grin, but one ticked at the right corner of his mouth as he
crouched, resting his buttocks on the heels of his boots. "For
absolute sure, I would. Tis lucky I'm just a stupid mon,
aye?"

"You're not stupid!" Alby
cried, then flung himself into Lachlan's arms, winding his own
about Lachlan's neck. "Don't say you're stupid!"

"Och, lad," Lachlan
crooned, relishing the warmth of the boy's body, "I promise no' to
again."

Sniffling, Alby released
his death-grip and backed off enough to look into Lachlan's eyes.
"It's the boogeyman making everybody so cranky."

"You dinna say? Hmmm. Then
we should send him packin’ right soon, shouldna we?"

Alby nodded vigorously.
From behind him, Kahl said in a soft voice, "We got scared when we
heard Beth yelling at you."

Lachlan opened his left arm
and Kahl immediately stepped into it. But Kevin held back, his blue
eyes stormy with accusation until Lachlan cast him a pleading look
for forgiveness. Then it was three boys he was hugging, and three
warm bodies hugging him in return.

He kissed each on the
cheek, then vowed, "You have ma word, it willna happen
again."

"For honest?" Alby asked in
a quivering tone.

Nodding, Lachlan said, "You
know how when you're scared, weird things come ou' o' yer mouth and
you canna stop them?"

Again Alby nodded
vigorously, while his siblings regarded Lachlan as if seriously
mulling over his words.

"Weel, yer Aunt Beth has a
fine temper, she has, and she's no' afraid to let me know when I
displease—"

"You mean piss her off,"
Kevin interjected, to which Lachlan comically flinched.

"Aye, and tha', too. Which
reminds me, there's a young mon now stayin’ at the carriage house.
He's the new groundskeeper. Would it be too much to ask you three
to have mercy on him and no' give him the devil's due?"