The Highlander's Accidental Marriage (Marriage Mart Mayhem) (10 page)

“That is all right,” Sarah said. “I’m not nearly as wet as Mr. McKinnon. Just the bottom of my gown, and that will dry if I can sit by the fire.”

“Aye, of course,” the woman fussed. “Just sit right there, and I’ll bring ye some tea. We’ll be having our supper in a little bit, and that will help to warm ye up, too.” She settled her hands on her generous belly and regarded Sarah. “So yer English, eh lass?”

“Yes.”

Mrs. Hanson turned to Braeden. “So how did a fine Scottish lad such as yerself end up with an English lass?”

“’Tis a long story, Mrs. Hanson.” Not wishing to dwell on their unexpected marriage, he added, “And ’tis grateful we are for yer hospitality.” He left the room and immediately felt colder. The fire only warmed the main room, and he could see his breath in the air. The bedroom he had been directed to was clean and had all the appearance of a young boy’s room. Space was precious in these small cottages, and it was not common for a lad to have a bedroom of his own.

Shaking from the cold, he stripped off his wet garments and drew on the ones Mrs. Hanson had given him. He used his damp shirt to dry his hair as best he could, then joined the others in the main room.

Sarah looked right at home, drinking tea in front of the fire and chatting with Mrs. Hanson. Mr. Hanson poured a small amount of whiskey into a glass and waved for Braeden to join him.

“’Tis fine whiskey I have here. Would ye care for a touch to warm yerself?” Mr. Hanson held up a stone container.

“Aye. I could use a bit of the warmth,” Braeden said.

A lad of about fifteen joined them, shaking his wet coat until his mum chastised him. His da introduced him as their son Michael, who then proceeded to pick up a book and sit in the corner reading while the adults conversed.

As Mr. Hanson talked on and on, Braeden took the time to reflect on where he was at this point. Sometime tomorrow he and Sarah would arrive at Bedlay Castle. He would be fighting demons right now if he had to leave the lass there and go on his way. He’d grown fond of her and would miss her had things been different. But Sarah was his wife, and after a short visit with her sister, she would have to leave with him.

Truth be told, he was not looking forward to the conversation that would reveal what she’d done. He’d had time to accept this accidental marriage, and found himself pleased. His work would not suffer—he’d not allow that—but in addition to his work, he’d have Sarah. Thinking of the coming night in the cozy bed in the small bedroom had his cock hardening.

On the other hand, he had no idea how the lass would react to his announcement. They shared a strong attraction to which she was not immune. She seemed to like and respect him, and had already depended on him to protect her. But marriage?

Mrs. Hanson excused herself to finish supper. Braeden held out his hand to Sarah. “Are ye warm enough now? Would ye care to join us?”

“I do feel so much better.” She rose and paced the few steps to where he and Mr. Hanson sat and settled on a small stool.

“Where are ye and the lass headed?” Mr. Hanson glanced longingly at his empty glass. He had already told Braeden his wife only allowed him one glass each evening. He’d winked when he’d passed that information along and chided Braeden to expect the same from his wife. “They all try to change yer bad habits, ye ken?”

“Sarah’s sister is married to The MacBride, and we’re headed to Bedlay Castle.”

“
Ach
, Bedlay? Ye don’t have much farther to travel, then.”

“I will be glad to finish this journey. It has been quite tedious.” Sarah glanced at Braeden for his confirmation.

Tedious, indeed, and also surprising. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Chapter Ten

D
espite her nap on the road, Sarah’s head drooped as her hosts and Braeden talked quietly after supper. They were all seated in front of the fireplace, and she found it hard to stay awake. The soothing murmur of their voices washed over her like a lullaby.

“Lass. I think we need to retire for the night,” Braden said, offering her a soft smile. “We want to be on the road early in the morning.”

Mrs. Hanson sprang up. “’Tis sorry I am to keep ye up so late. I do tend to wander on when we have company, since ’tis so rare for anyone to happen by. Ye must be verra tired from yer journey. From what ye told us, ’tis been a trying one.”

“Yes. It has been difficult, but it will be all worth it when I see my sister again.” Sarah paused. “And her babe, who I am sure has been born by now.”

“Aye. Nothing like a new bairn to bring more love and hope to yer heart. I remember well when my Michael was born, he was such a—”

“Margaret, love, the young ones want to get some sleep.” Mr. Hanson grinned at his wife whose rosy cheeks grew even rosier.

Sarah and Braeden wished the Hansons good night and entered the tiny bedroom they’d been given. Stopping abruptly, Sarah peered at the cold fireplace. “Goodness, it’s cold in here. I can see my breath.”

“Aye.” Braeden leaned against the bedpost, his arms crossed over his chest. “Generally only in the dead of winter do these small cottages have a fire anywhere except the main room. ’Tis too costly to burn all that peat.”

He pushed himself away from the bed and moved to stand in front of her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Now, lass, I dinna want ye to get upset, but I will not be sleeping on the floor tonight.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Why not?”

“Ye just said it yerself. ’Tis mighty cold in here. If I sleep on the floor—and survive till morn—I’ll be too stiff to even move.”

She glanced at the bed that looked very, very small. It would be impossible for them to both rest there without their bodies touching. She chewed her lip, remembering how difficult it had been to resist Braeden when he’d been helping her undress—while they both were standing up. “I have an idea.”

He nodded for her to continue.

“We will sleep with all our clothes on, including our coats.” She smiled brightly as if she’d just discovered the secret of life.

“’Tis fine with me. I will however, bring to your attention that scientifically, if a body were cylindrically shaped, and one ignored the losses on either end, the heat loss is in proportion to the circumference of each circle, divided by the circle area. Therefore the heat loss coefficient for each one is two/radius.

“Based on that assumption, if each cylindrical item—or person in our case—huddles alongside the other, the heat loss coefficient for the line is one/radius.”

Sarah stared at him openmouthed. “I have no idea what you just said. What does that mean?”

“Body heat works very well and is better shared without too many layers of clothing. In fact, in the very cold climates, people oftentimes sleep side by side with no clothing at all.”

She shook her head. “No. Never.”

He flashed her a look she couldn’t interpret. “Dinna fash yerself, lass. ’Twas only a suggestion.” He waved in the direction of the bed. “Which side do ye want?”

Sarah moved to the right side of the bed and sat. “This side is fine.”

Braeden toed off his boots. “Do ye want me to unfasten yer stays? I see ye put yer gown on backward. Verra clever.”

“I thought I had my gown with me that fastened in the front, but I was mistaken.” His grin told her he knew she was lying. “And no, I don’t need your help since I didn’t wear my stays today.”

His smirk caused a wave of heat to race to her cheeks. She needed to climb into the bed, turn her back on him, and go to sleep. Although, for all the fatigue she’d felt a short time ago, now her heart was pumping, and she felt anything but tired. The tension in the air snapped like a fierce lightning storm.

She sat on the end of the bed and removed her shoes. Without turning to face Braeden, she lifted the covers and lay down, clinging to the edge, as far away from the middle as possible without tumbling to the floor.

The mattress shifted as Braeden settled in alongside her. Her hands were freezing; she should have left her gloves on. She thought about getting up and retrieving them from the dresser but didn’t want to take a chance on attracting Braeden’s attention. She tucked her hands between her thighs and began singing a song in her head, hoping to distract herself from where she was and who was with her, and possibly lull herself to sleep.

“Are ye humming?” Braeden’s deep voice caused her to jerk.

“No.”

“Aye, ye are.”

“No, I’m not. I’m singing a song in my head.”

“Then the tune is falling out yer ears, because I can hear it.”

“I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you. I’m trying to lull myself to sleep.”

She shut off the serenade. Next she practiced blowing air out to see her breath. It was very cold in the room. She puckered her lips to blow air, then opened her mouth wider to blow, amazed at the cloud coming from her lips.

“Are ye blowing out yer candle over there now, lass?”

“No.” She rose up on her elbow and faced him. “Why don’t you go to sleep and leave me alone?”

“I would be happy to, but yer making enough noise over there to keep the entire household awake.”

She punched her pillow several times, wishing it was his face. “Oh, I doubt that very much. You do have a tendency to exaggerate, you know.”

“I ken no such thing. Ye are singing and humming and blowing out air. I expect to feel yer feet tapping a dance soon.”

Sarah expelled a huge sigh. “You can always sleep in the stables with the driver and footman.”

“Nay, ’tis cold enough in here for me.”

She felt him shift his body. “If you would lie still I might be able to go to sleep.”

“
Ach
, lass, ’tis the first time I moved.” He shifted once more, and she knew he was on his side, staring at her back.

She squirmed, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. Counting might help. She started with the rooms in Manchester Manor, starting at the top floor. The nursery, the nurse’s bedchamber, the schoolroom, the governess’s room. Next floor, her mother’s suite of rooms, Drake and Penelope’s—

“What are ye mumbling about?”

Sarah flipped over and drew in a sharp breath when she came practically nose-to-nose with Braeden. “What are you doing here?”

Raised eyebrows were his only response.

“I mean, you’re so close. Can’t you move back a bit?”

“Not unless I want to crash to the floor. Which I think will awaken Mr. and Mrs. Hanson, who are probably not sleeping anyway since ye keep making a racket over there.”

She raised her chin, pushing her face closer to his. “I am not making a racket, and you are keeping me awake with all your chatter.”

“Chatter?”

“Yes. You keep questioning everything I do.”

“Perhaps because yer doing one senseless thing after another.”

“I am not.”

“Aye, ye are.”

Her breath hitched as they both stared at each other. Heavy breathing filled the air, the puffs of moisture between them almost like a foggy day in London. Why were they both so out of breath?

Braeden lifted his hand and touched her cheek. “Yer skin is so soft, lass.” He tracked down her cheek to her lips with his finger. She eased her tongue out and touched the tip. He tasted salty and sweet at the same time. Remnants, no doubt, from dinner. He traced her lips with his fingertip.

“Ye seem a little bit warm, lass. Perhaps ye should take off yer pelisse.”

“Yes, I think you’re right. I do feel a lot warmer than when we first came into the room.” She sat up and unfastened the pelisse. Braeden helped her slip it off.

“I think I’ll take my coat off as well.” He quickly unbuttoned the garment and shrugged out of it.

Sarah lay back down. “That is much better. I don’t feel quite so warm now.”

B
raeden was so hot at this point he could strip himself naked and still feel the need to dunk into a cool stream. Lying next to Sarah created a new definition for torture. He was trying so hard to ignore her, but her constant humming, moving, and talking made that impossible. Now all he wanted to do was take her into his arms and kiss every inch of her lush body. Pleasure her until she moaned his name and begged him to take her.

She continued to shift around and sigh.

“What is it now, lass?”

“I’m still too warm.”

“Aye, you should probably remove yer gown and petticoat. Sleeping would probably be more pleasant if ye only wore yer chemise.”

“How do you know what a lady wears under her gown?”

He grinned at her surprised expression. Surely the lass didn’t think he was unschooled in the ways of intimacy? “I’ve had a wee bit of practice. Now sit up so I can help ye.”

“I don’t need help, thank you.” Sitting up, she unfastened the backward gown, wiggling around until she was able to draw it over her head. Glaring at his interest in her performance, she turned her back to him as she worked the petticoat off, leaving only her chemise between her skin and his warm body.

“That is the very last article of clothing I will remove,” she declared as she dropped the garment on the ground.

’Twas it him or herself she was trying to convince?

He stood and pulled his shirt over his head. Sarah’s eyes never left his chest. Until his fingers rested on his fall front, and he slowly unbuttoned it, his eyes never leaving her, watching for her reaction. He almost groaned when she licked her lips. “Don’t do that, lass.”

“What?” She looked up abruptly, her lovely face guilt-ridden.

“Dinna look at me like that.”

She stuck her cute wee nose in the air. “I was not looking at you in any particular way.”

Wearing just his drawers, he climbed into bed and stretched out on his back, his hands behind his head. Better to keep them away from Sarah. Within seconds, Sarah sighed. “I’m getting chilly now.” She turned on her pillow to regard him. “Maybe I should put my gown back on.”

“Nay.” He reached over and pulled her body close to his. Precisely what he’d wanted to do since he’d first entered the bed. It felt right, like she belonged there, had always belonged there in his arms. He looked down at her. “Ye can share my body heat.”

“You’re not going to explain it all again, are you?”

“Nay.” Was that frog-like croak his voice?

She wiggled closer. “Yes, you are warm.” Using her fingernail, she scraped down his chest. “You have hair on your chest.”

He inhaled as she tugged. “Does that hurt?”

“What hurts, love, is being here in bed with you and not able to do this.” Giving in to his craving, he lowered his head and took her lips in a gentle, soft-biting kiss. He teased her lips until they opened, then slid his tongue into the warm, sweet place, loving the taste of her. Sarah joined in his duel of tongues, taking as much as she gave.

“The rest of yer clothes are getting in the way, lass,” he murmured into her ear as he ran his tongue over the delicate shell.

She shook her head, but didn’t stop him when he loosened the drawstring at the neckline of her chemise. Then she cooperated quite fully when he drew the garment up and over her head, tossing it on the floor. Gathering her into his arms, he held her snugly, her naked breasts flush against his skin.

Her skin was on fire and her heart hammered against his chest, beating in rhythm with his own. Spurred on by her response to his touch, he kissed her with his eyes before taking her mouth in complete possession, cupping her head to move it so he could delve deeper. She moaned softly and fisted his hair, tugging him even closer.

Releasing her lips he kissed her temple, then whispered into her hair. “Lass, ye do ken where this is going, aye?”

She pulled back and regarded him with half-lidded eyes. He was shocked at the impact of her look on his heart. No other woman he’d ever bedded had brought out the feelings he was experiencing with Sarah. ’Twas damn lucky for him she was his wife. If they made a bairn tonight ’twould be difficult with the expedition coming up, but they would make it work somehow.

“Yes, I have an idea what will happen next and I must admit, I’m frightened.” The deep richness of her voice was a siren’s call, but he needed to address her fears.

“Why, darlin’? Ye ken I would never hurt ye. At least naught more than nature intended.” Concerned she might talk herself out of it, he ran his palm down her smooth skin to cup her breast. She sighed and closed her eyes. He lowered his head and suckled, pleasuring the engorged tip with his tongue.

She made little mewing sounds as he teased her nipples, going from one breast to the other.

“Braeden,” she gasped.

“Aye, love. Just lie back and let me pleasure ye.” He shifted so he covered most of her body.

She splayed her hands over his shoulders, molding the muscles before moving her fingers up to tangle in his hair. Her touch overwhelmed his senses, bringing every drop of blood in his body to the one place he wanted to join with hers. His hands searched for her pleasure points, and he grinned as her soft sighs and frantic movements acted as a treasure map of her body.

Needing to rid himself of his drawers, he gave Sarah a quick peck on the end of her nose. “Dinna go anywhere, love.” He hopped up and was free of the garment in seconds. Sarah’s eyes grew wide at the evidence of his desire for her.

“Goodness,” she breathed. But being Sarah, she reached out and touched him, encircling his manhood with her hand. “It feels strange. Soft, yet hard.”

“Aye, love. Ye touching me this way feels strange.” He placed his hand over hers as she began to draw away. “Nay. Dinna stop.”

She studied her hand as she pleasured him, smiling when he let out a groan. “Does that feel good?”

“Aye. But if ye continue on, this could be all over before it begins.”

“I thought you told me not to stop.”

“Ye have me coming and going, lass. I dinna want ye to stop, but if ye dinna, ye won’t have yer own pleasure.” With that he eased her onto her back and once more took a plump breast into his mouth. His fingers worked their way down her smooth, silky skin until he reached the moistness of her center where he used his fingers to encircle, rotate, and enter her warmth to prepare her for their joining.