The Highlander's Yuletide Love (12 page)

“I know you are
much loved here at Glencairn, Sophy, and I understand why you do not wish to
leave it,” said Ranulf quietly. “But do you never wish for more?”

“More?” echoed
Sophy. “What more could there be?”

In answer,
Ranulf grasped her shoulders gently, his thumbs massaging her collarbone as he
turned her towards him. He paused a moment, then pressed his lips to her
forehead, before allowing them to slide sideways to her temple, where he
paused, feeling the little pulse there beat against his lips. He shifted
slightly to allow his forehead and nose to rest softly on hers and whispered, “I
think you already know.”

Sophy didn’t
answer, but waited in silence, and Ranulf lifted his head to feather little
kisses along her cheekbone, before his lips took possession of hers. She could
feel her breasts swell against her bodice and the unfamiliar pooling of desire
lower in her body, as it responded to the memory of his previous kisses with
unbidden anticipation. He coaxed her to open to him, and with a tiny sigh of
acquiescence, she welcomed him, as his skillful tongue tangled with hers to
create a heat that quickly blazed to a conflagration. Ranulf’s hands rose to
her frame her face as he adjusted his head to achieve the perfect mating of
their mouths, first licking at the cupid bow of her upper lip, and then softly
nibbling and pulling at her lower lip, then soothing the swelling pout of the
sensitive tissues with his tongue. He sealed his mouth to hers and claimed it,
the subtle strokes exploring, exciting Sophy until she felt almost boneless,
and found herself stepping closer, allowing him to support her suddenly
trembling legs.

Ranulf, no
stranger to the reactions of a woman moved by passion, allowed his arms to
slide down her back to her waist, pressing her close to him, and sliding a leg
between hers, as he continued to kiss her fervently. Sophy, caught in the grip
of unfamiliar pleasure, raised her hands to the back of his neck, and then ran
her fingers through his cropped curls as she sought more of the delights he was
offering. She pressed even closer, stopping when she felt his thigh against a
spot that she hadn’t realized could be so exquisitely sensitive. A bolt of sensation
rocketed through her, so shockingly delightful that she involuntarily pulled
back.

Ranulf raised
his mouth from hers for a moment. “I will do you no harm. I want only your
happiness,” he whispered as he lowered his hands to her buttocks, lifting her
slightly and settling her more closely, so that her hips rested against his. Sophy
froze for a moment as she felt the firm swelling in his breeches, but when
Ranulf’s lips touched hers again, all thoughts spiraled away as the fire within
her kindled again.

As he felt Sophy
relax against him, Ranulf let his lips move to the smooth skin of her neck,
nibbling at the responsive spot beneath her ear, before taking the lobe between
his teeth to bite lightly. She moaned in response, and he left a trail of
kisses down her neck before dabbing his tongue in the hollow of her collarbone.
His hands slid up her sides, and came to rest just below her breasts, and Sophy
caught her breath, wondering how she could feel such delight, while at the same
time being almost lightheaded with anticipation.

As Ranulf’s
fingers rose to lightly cup her bosom, she felt her nipples pucker with a
yearning for more, and then he rained little kisses across her chest, while she
clasped his head, pulling it down to her as she sighed with desire. His palm
moved smoothly over one ripe mound and back again, the artful touch stimulating
a sensual heat that threatened to swamp her emotions. His other hand rose to
loosen the tape at the back of her dress, and, as he pulled the delicate fabric
of her bodice gently lower, he allowed his chin to push down her dress and
chemise. Soon, an engorged, dark pink bud was uncovered, and he took it in his
lips, licking and sucking. As Sophy gasped, wondering if her legs would give
way, Ranulf eyed the bench next to them and then put one leg across it,
straddling it and pulling her down to sit with her back against his broad
chest. Before she could form a coherent thought he had slipped her entire
bodice down, exposing the plump, firm rise of her breasts to the golden rays of
the setting sun, and cupped them both in his hands. He gazed at them raptly for
a moment and then rolled the nipples gently between his fingers.

“So beautiful,”
he murmured. “Look and see how lovely you are, Sophy.”

She looked down
for a moment, at first embarrassed, but then mesmerized by the reaction her
body had to this man to whom she seemed to be dangerously attracted. Her
nipples hardened and elongated, and as he squeezed them gently she gave a
little cry and tipped her head, clutching the intriguingly strong muscles of
his thighs with her hands to support herself as he caressed her. He rained more
kisses down the side of her neck as she moved her bottom back against him,
seeking greater contact.

Ranulf chuckled
and, continuing to caress one breast, reached down and gently drew the heavy
silk of her skirt up. The slithering sensation seemed almost unbearably
sensuous, and she squirmed as he slid his palm over her knee and along the
tender skin of her inner thigh. Only when she felt a rush of moisture between
her legs did her common sense come crashing back and she clamped her thighs
shut, straightening her back and straining against his enfolding arms.

“No, no, we
mustn’t,” she exclaimed.

Ranulf let her
go instantly “Why not, my sweet? “I can bring you a great deal more of that
without harming you, if that is your concern.”

“No” she cried,
frantically struggling to pull her bodice up.

Ranulf watched
her for a moment and then stilled her hands, drawing her dress closed and
slowly retying the tapes while dropping a warm kiss on the nape of her neck. “I
suppose I should be more restrained too, but I am starting to find you
irresistible.”

“Don’t be
nonsensical. You have no wish to wed, and I have no desire to be married or to
be ruined!” Sophie cried. She stood up, shaking out her skirts and glowering at
him.

“The prospect of
matrimony is becoming more attractive by the day,” Ranulf assured her.

Sophy gaped at
him. “How am I meant to take that?”

Ranulf shook his
head. “Sophy, there is something here. Surely you can see that.”

“I see only that
you are pleased to trifle with me,” snapped Sophy. “I have a great deal more to
lose than you do.”

Ranulf
considered her words. “Perhaps you do. But maybe you will wish to share it with
me one day. We need to find out what it is that draws us together. Will you
come to Spaethness willingly? I saw how unhappy you were at the thought. Is it
because of me?”

Sophy sighed. “It
does sound beautiful. It is just that—well, surely you can see that—I mean to
become a painter, and you—,” her voice trailed off. “Well, I have no idea what
you mean by your behavior.”

“Are you asking
me my intentions?” he asked with a touch of humor.

“That isn’t
amusing,” said Sophy. “I do not mean to marry, as you well know.”

“I know,”
answered Ranulf. “But we appear to enjoy one another’s company a great deal.”

“That—was not
enjoying your company,” protested Sophy. “When we are together and not—doing
that—we quarrel.”

“Come to
Spaethness, then, and we shall spend time together,” urged Ranulf.

“To what end?”

“Must there be
an end?”

Sophy shrugged. “I
very much think there must.”

“Then let us
find out what that end might be.”

Sophy shook her
head, but he spoke before she could answer.

“Stop fighting
this—stop fighting me, Sophy.”

“But there is no
resolution to it,” she protested. “I do not mean to marry—nor do you, from what
I have been told. Oh, perhaps now that you are the heir you will need a wife,
but I have no desire to be a mere wife.”

“I have no
answers,” said Ranulf. “Trust me, and come to Spaethness.”

 “I have no
choice in the matter—Mama and Douglas will drag me there whether I will or no,”
Sophy replied, a touch of grim humor in her voice.

“Come because
you want to, not because you are forced to.”

“Very well,” she
murmured after a pause.

Ranulf took her
hand in his and raised it slowly to his lips. “I promise I will not argue with
you, if you will do the same.”

That made her
laugh. “I don’t think I can promise you that.”

“Very well. If
we argue, then we must agree to make up afterwards.”

“Like that?”
asked Sophy.

“If that is your
preference,” he said agreeably.

She felt a
tremor of desire shoot through her, and repressed it. “We should return to the
party. They will wonder where we have gotten to.”

“Do you think
so?” Ranulf looked around. “It is so beautiful here.”

Sophy looked up
at the sky, and the slowly deepening twilight. “It is lovely. But we must go
back.”

He looked at her
speculatively, then took her hand, lacing her arm through his, and led her from
the folly. As her feet touched the grass of the lawn, she gave a little sigh of
relief and regret. They walked in silence through the verdant garden, and he
escorted her calmly up the stairs to the terrace into the drawing room. The
room looked the same, the candles bright and the couples in their bright
clothing moving through the steps of a country-dance. There was much laughter
and chatter, and Sophy noted that no eyes turned their way as they rejoined the
group.

“There you are,
child,” said Harriet, moving to her side. “Mr. Daughtry has this next dance
with you.”

“Colonel
Stirling and I strolled in the gardens,” said Sophy, a shade defiantly.

“Did you so?”
asked Harriet absently. “How charming. They are so lovely just now, and I
daresay dear Ranulf has spent little time in them. He is always off fishing
with your father and brother.”

Sophy did not
know whether to be glad or annoyed that no one had noted her absence. She
allowed Mr. Daughtry to lead her out into the dance, observing that Ranulf had
asked the daughter of the neighboring estate to join him on the floor. With a
twinge, she looked away and devoted her full attention to Mr. Daughtry.

Dear Philippa,

I have sorely
neglected you these past weeks, but such a whirl it has been here at Glencairn!
We have been far livelier than is our wont, for the presence of Colonel
Stirling in the neighborhood seems to have stirred us all to greater activity. I
have no idea why that should be so, but we are forever picnicking, or riding
out for an adventure, or visiting Dargenwater Cottage for dinner. Indeed, only
this past week we had a party at Glencairn, with dancing in the drawing room! It
was delightful, as you can imagine, and I myself danced very nearly every
dance, which you know is not something I usually do! But the company was so
charming, and the music so beautiful, that it could not be resisted. I even
waltzed with Euan, and you doubtless know that I still feel that dance is
somewhat scandalous, despite it having been accepted at Almack’s these many
years now. To be held so closely to a gentleman! But I do go on, and it can
make no difference, as I am married to Euan, but the young ladies! Sophy danced
it with Colonel Stirling, who is a perfect gentleman, of course, and Sophy has
sworn she will not marry, so perhaps she does not think of such things.

The great news,
my dear, is that a plan has been hatched for all of us to visit Spaethness,
which is Colonel Stirling’s estate. We were all at dinner before the party, and
I mentioned a desire to visit the Highlands, and before the cat could lick her
whiskers Ranulf had issued the invitation! We leave at the end of the week, and
I am in alt! I have never seen the Highlands, and it has long been one of my
fondest wishes to go there. Although, I suppose we will need an extra carriage
for little Euan, and Isobel’s Catherine and their nursemaids, as the current
laird is very old and somewhat frail, and there have been no children in the
house since dear Ranulf was a boy.

Sophy seemed at
first to be reluctant to leave Glencairn, but once it was made clear to her
that the Exencours will accompany us so she could not remain with them, she had
to come about. I do not know what it is that makes her so prickly these days,
as I have assured her she will find many scenes to paint at Spaethness that are
far more beautiful than any hereabouts. After the party she seems to be
somewhat more willing, though I cannot tell you why. When I ask she turns the
topic. I find her such a mystery even though I was a young woman once myself! I
have no recollection of being so odd and mopey!

Spaethness is in
Argyll, near the Trossachs, the home of The Lady of the Lake! You may think me
foolish, but I am imagining the wild land, the skirling pipes and of course the
romance that Mr. Scott brings to life. Colonel Stirling says to me it is not
nearly as mysterious as I imagine it to be, and teases me, telling me that it
is much like any other place. I am ridiculous, I know, but, fond as I am of
Glencairn the place as well as the dear, dear man, I do look forward to seeing
another part of my adopted home, and one that is reputed to be so beautiful.