My Laird's Seduction_Scottish Historical Romance Page 3

  That didn’t make her feel any better, rather worse. And, with a quick glance at Ewan, knowing he would disapprove, she darted for the door to follow James Rotheport.

  “Ainsley McDougal,” her mother called after her, but Ainsley ignored it.

  Dashing down the hall, and lifting her skirts as she went, she made to catch up with the infuriatingly handsome man who just insulted her multiple times. It wasn’t enough that she’d told him what she’d thought of him. She wanted an explanation for his behavior. Truth be told, she wanted an apology.

  For a moment, she’d worried she’d gone the wrong way. She hadn’t seen him as he’d left the salon, merely assumed he’d headed for the main section of the house. As the she reached the entryway, she saw him making his way to the front door.

  Picking up speed, she followed him out into the moonlight. At the sound of the door closing behind her, he turned. Their eyes met and for a split second, she didn’t move, couldn’t breathe, his look pinned her to the spot where she stood. The heat, the hectic feelings he aroused redoubled inside her, threatening to light a blaze. It suddenly occurred to her it wasn’t just irritation she felt around him but a need. But then he opened his infernal mouth again. “Go back inside where you belong.”

  “I will not.” That got her feet moving. “You owe me an explanation.” She picked up her dress again as she chased after him.

  But he turned and kept walking, quickening his own pace and the distance between them grew.

  “Lord Rotheport,” she called, but he ignored her. He kept walking, his path illuminated by the moon as he moved further away. This man would drive her mad. “James,” she tried again.

  He stopped and, quicker than a snake, turned and started toward her, eating the ground between them. Her heart beat wildly in her chest at the sight of him striding toward her so.

  His name on her lips sent a shudder through his body, the likes of which he’d never experienced in his twenty-nine years of living. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. One other time, he’d felt the earth shift under his feet the way it just had. But the reason had been so completely different, it was hard to compare the two.

  It was the day his father had died. He’d only been nine years old but he’d felt the shudderings of change.

  He swallowed hard as he approached her. How could this even be close to the same? He didn’t understand at all. But as he came nearer, her eyes searched his face as her chest heaved. That same feeling he’d just run from in the salon returned even stronger. The desire to sweep her up in his arms and kiss her senseless. Bloody hell, she was glorious when angry. Far more enticing than when she was delivering artfully perfected smiles.

  Her hands still held her bunched-up skirts. She hadn’t let go after chasing him and he could see delicate ankles encased in silk stockings. They made him heat, just as the rest of her was doing.

  He was past reason now, and rather than stop a safe distance away, he charged close enough to feel her heat, sweeping her into his arms.

  She gave a startled cry, her hands going to his shoulders to steady herself.

  “I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured. “If you don’t want me to, best say it now.”

  “Kiss me,” was her whispered response. He could hear so much emotion in her voice. Her anger, her passion, and just a touch of fear. The urge to tell her she had nothing to be afraid of stuck in his throat as his eyes devoured the beautiful planes of her face. He lowered his lips to hers. When he’d almost reached them, he stopped, suspending them in that moment before their first touch.

  “Say my name,” he murmured. “Say, kiss me, James.” He didn’t know why he had to hear it again. But he did. Desperately. No one had called him James since he was a child. It was a sweet beautiful torture to hear it now. It was pulling at something deep inside of him.

  “What?” She pulled back a little then and he swallowed, wanting to curse. Wanting to beg.

  “Kiss me, James. I want to hear my name on your lips again.” He took a jagged breath. “Please.”

  “Kiss me, James,” she whispered and the quiet of her voice was even more devastating than the first time she’d said it. He tilted, as though the very earth shook underneath him. Unable to stand another second, he pressed his lips to hers, hard and demanding. She gasped underneath his touch and pulled away a little.

  He lifted his head to see her eyes wide, staring at him with a mixture of bewilderment and…desire. “Bloody hell,” he nearly choked on the next words. “Have you never been kissed before?”

  She gave the tiniest shake of her head to say that she hadn’t and he near fell to his knees. How could he be getting this so completely wrong? Gently, he set her back on the ground, his arms loosening about her waist. “I didn’t mean to do that,” he grated out. “If I had known you had never—”

  “You did mean to do it.” Her hands unthread from around his neck then and slid to his chest to rest there. He wasn’t sure if she’d clutch him close or push him again, but he assumed once she’d decided he’d know. Her scowl told him little as she looked up to him. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You asked my permission and then demanded I repeat my answer.”

  He gave a chuckle that came from deep in his chest. “You’ve got me there.” He leaned his head down to press his forehead to hers. It was somehow important they be close. And that she understand. She’d given him a gift tonight, a connection to his past that wasn’t entirely welcome but somehow necessary. He wished for his kiss to also be a gift. “I only meant, if I’d known it was your first, I would have done it differently. Sweetly and softly, and with the gentleness the occasion deserves.”

  She gave a little humph then, and her sweet breath fanned across his face. His arms tightened. “First of all, I hope you’re ready to admit that you have misjudged a great many things about me.”

  Like every interaction with her this evening, her caught him completely off guard. Bloody hell, Ainsley grew more delightful with each passing moment. “I admit it and apologize.”

  “Good.” She relaxed in his embrace again, and it was divine, the feel of her softness. He wanted to kiss her again, the way he’d described. Slowly, softly until she melted completely. “Then, I don’t mind telling you that while I don’t have any other first kisses with which to compare it to, I thought it to be quite perfect.”

  “Will you say my name again? One more time?” It was foolish to ask. It made him do wild things and he was a man who lived freely anyhow.

  “James,” she said it softly, with a touch of sweetness that made him ache deep down in the pit of his stomach. Not of desire, though he did desire her. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed that earlier. It made him ache for pieces of life that hadn’t been his since his parents had gone. Because while his father had parted this world, him mother had left him too. The original peacock.

  Moving closer, he was a breath away from kissing her again when the front door crashed against its hinges.

  “Ainsley McDougal,” Ewan bellowed from the doorway. “Get back in this house before I have to send ye home tae yer father.”

  He could see barely see Ewan’s outline in the darkness and he said a silent prayer of thanks that Ewan couldn’t see them either. If he were caught kissing her, he’d be married before he could blink.

  She gave the tiniest giggle before she backed away, leaving the circle of his arms, leaving him cold. “I had better go.” And then she turned and began walking.

  He could see the outline of her figure in the moonlight, the tiny waist, the flare of her hips. He’d follow. There was no letting her out of his sight now.

  Chapter Four

  “What the bloody hell were ye thinking?” Callum glared at him as he sat across from him in the privacy of his own room. “Being so rude in front of her family. Our hosts.”

  James took a breath before he answered. He hadn’t told Callum about the kiss. It was obvious his friend was interested in Ainsley. Bile rose up in James’ throat. Christ
, the woman said his name one time and he’d gone from rational to lunatic. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d been acting crazy before that. Calling her a peacock. “I don’t know. She is making me act strangely.”

  “She isn’t doing anything. It’s you...” Callum poked his finger at his friend.

  “I know it is. She stood there, all rehearsed and postured, and I got angry. I don’t know why.”

  Callum sat back in his chair. “And what happened when she chased you outside?”

  “I apologized.” It was true. It omitted a great many details, but it was true.

  Callum grunted his approval. “Good.” His friend scratched his head. “She isn’t the first woman ye’ve met who likes to be seen. In fact, she’s far more practical than many I’ve met. She is also sweet and warm, as well as caring. I can’t for the life of me figure out why she irritates ye so.”

  James shrugged. Callum, blast the man, was right. There was something so warm and inviting about her that it made him ache. Actually, it made him jealous as hell Callum had noticed her too. What he couldn’t understand and was afraid to delve into was why she unsettled him.

  But Callum wasn’t done. “Remember that Russian princess?”

  Bullocks, he very nearly had forgotten her. “Aye, I remember.”

  “Now there was a peacock. But you seemed to delight in it.” Callum raised an eyebrow.

  James glowered at his friend. “The princess was looking for a simple dalliance. Nothing meaningful.”

  “And Lady Ainsley? She is meant for something more meaningful?” Callum leaned forward.

  James grunted. Damn it all to hell. “She’s a lady and an innocent. Innocents shouldn’t act like that.” He sat back in his chair attempting a casualness he didn’t feel. Callum was poking at feelings he didn’t want to examine. There was something different about Ainsley, he knew that, but he wasn’t ready to delve deeper. “Ainsley has the opportunity to be a real woman of substance, not a simple peacock, if she’d just put her vanity aside.”

  “It’s just Ainsley, is it?” One of Callum’s eyebrows rose. “Not Lady Ainsley?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” James knew what Callum implied. “I am not interested in the girl.” He was lying, at least a little. He was more than interested in her but he didn’t actually intend to pursue her. It was too painful, stirred emotions he couldn’t face. And that was not the life he intended to live. When he finally did marry, it would be a woman of less fire and passion. A woman he could maintain a certain distance from for his own protection.

  “Then you won’t mind if I pursue her?”

  James felt his insides rumble in protest. Bloody hell, he was losing his mental faculties. “Of course not. But you risk having a peacock for a wife.”

  Callum waved his hand. “She is only young. Once she becomes a wife and a mother, she will rise to the challenge. You’re right, she has it in her to be a real lady of substance.”

  James swallowed hard. For some reason this next question troubled him. “You have feelings for her?”

  Shrugging, Callum looked to the floor. “I am not sure I will ever have feelings again. I want to move on, start my life and she is as good as any woman I’ve met.” He looked up at James then. “But I will leave her be if you do feel something?”

  James swallowed hard, his mind protesting at what he was about to say. “No, I don’t have feelings for her.”

  Ainsley sat across from Clarissa as her cousin held baby Ava. Agnes sat beside Clarissa, both of them eyeing her with suspicion. No one had spoken for at least a minute. The silence filled the room as surely as noise would have.

  “Why did you go chasing after him?” Clarissa’s irritated voice cut through the tension.

  Ainsley shrugged, attempting to remain casual. “I wanted an explanation.”

  “For what?” Agnes asked sounding equally annoyed.

  “How he can be so rude.” Ainsley’s voice was rising, matching their irritation. “Who does he think he is to treat me like that?”

  “Did you get one?” Clarissa replied, sounding exasperated as though she already knew the answer.

  Ainsley swallowed before she revealed the truth. Well, not all of the truth. She would not tell them about the kiss. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. And I might have gotten an explanation to match if Ewan hadn’t interrupted—”

  “As well he should have. You can’t be alone with a man like that. Your reputation—“

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I watched you both courting. Neither of you followed any rules at all.”

  “This is different,” Agnes crossed over to sit next to her. Her hand reached for Ainsley’s. “Lord Rotheport, he isn’t like Ewan or Keiran. He’s…dangerous.”

  “A true rogue. I’m sure of it.” Clarissa leaned forward, Ava snuggled against her.

  “You were convinced Ewan was a rogue.” Ainsley didn’t know why she was defending James. They were likely right. But something had shifted tonight. When she’d called out his name, it was almost as though he had lost his faculties. He might have gotten down on his knees and begged, he’d been so vulnerable.

  And that vulnerability is what had breached her defenses when she’d been so sure she didn’t like him at all. It’s why she had said yes when he’d asked to kiss her.

  Well to be fair, she still didn’t like him, but she had to admit that she found some part of him enticing.

  “Ewan didn’t have that smug look that Lord Rotheport—”

  Ainsley held up her free hand. The one Agnes wasn’t holding. “Enough. I shouldn’t have said that because for the most part, I agree with you. I will stay away from him.” She looked down at Agnes’ hand joined with hers. “I was just that for a moment tonight, he lost that smugness and he seemed…sad or lonely. It made me forget…”

  “What did you forget?” Agnes asked quietly.

  Ainsley looked up at her friend, then, her eyes twinkling. “That I hate the sight of him.”

  Clarissa and Agnes both laughed softly. Then Clarissa murmured. “Just be careful around him. I know you’re not all that interested in settling down now, but you will be someday and you don’t want to ruin your chances before you’ve even begun. A man like that can ruin a lady.”

  “What does that mean? That I don’t want to settle down?” Ainsley’s irritation was rising again.

  “Well, darling,” Agnes gave her a kind smile. “You’re simply more interested in being the belle of the ball than spending your time with just one man.”

  To be fair, Ainsley likely deserved the comment. But it reminded her too closely of what James thought of her and she bristled. “I have substance too, you know. I don’t just require male attention to entertain me.”

  Clarissa did not answer, but her eyebrows had risen to her hairline. Agnes, however, patted her hand. “Of course not.” Then Agnes rose, still holding her hand. “I am exhausted. Shall I walk you to your room?”

  Ainsley stood too. “Are you worried I might find trouble if I walk myself?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Agnes gave her a bright smile. But she began tugging on her hand to go. “I am sure Clarissa needs her rest. That is all.”

  Ainsley let Agnes pull her out the door and down the hall, though she wanted to protest. Part of her now wished she’d talked to at least Agnes about the kiss. Maybe the other woman could help her make sense of it all.

  Though she knew one thing for sure. She should have said no instead of yes when he’d asked permission. She absolutely couldn’t allow it to happen again.

  Chapter Five

  The next day dawned dry and unusually sunny, though the air was brisk. All the same, Ainsley wished to spend some time outdoors. As soon as she had broken fast, she made her way upstairs to change into a sturdy riding habit. Perhaps one of the grooms could accompany her on a ride.

  But as she made her way downstairs, she found Callum and James heading out the doors as well.

  “Where are you off to?” Callum asked with a smil
e.

  James glowered at her in the most menacing way. Apparently all the vulnerability he’d shown her last night was gone. Burying her disappointment, she told herself it was fine. It would be far easier to ignore him as she’d promised if he wasn’t accessible.

  With that in mind, she walked right past him and gave Callum a grin. “To get some fresh air. I love to ride and I can’t resist the sunshine.”

  “We were about the ride to the village for some supplies. Perhaps you could join us?” Callum asked.

  James made a noise deep in his throat that let both of them know he didn’t approve.

  Ainsley hesitated for a moment. She was sure that this wasn’t what Clarissa had in mind when she’d warned Ainsley to keep her distance. But this would be chaperoned, and besides, whenever he looked at her with that glower, she couldn’t resist needling him. “How lovely.”

  He made another noise, not unlike a groan. “We’re there on business, not a lady’s shopping trip. And if you can’t keep up, we’ll have to leave you with the groom.”

  Ainsley gave him a withering glare. How could she have ever thought him vulnerable? It didn’t matter because she’d have her revenge when she more than kept up. In fact, she’d make sure her horse’s hooves covered him in a nice layer of dust. “Very well,” she gave him her practiced smile, the one she now knew he hated. “Lead the way, Captain.”

  His eyes narrowed into slits as he opened the door and gestured for her to exit first. She did so and then waited for Callum, linking her arm in his. It was strange, after what had happened last night, but it was clear that James would not be escorting her. He didn’t seem the least interested in taking her hand on his arm, even if he had wanted to press his lips to hers.

  Clarissa was right, he was a rogue.

  The grooms had four horses readied and the party set out for the village. It was slow going at first, as everyone settled in, but soon James pressed faster and Ainsley kept pace just behind him. Callum kicked behind her, but riding was what Ainsley loved more than anything else, and she was an excellent horsewoman. Soon, even Callum fell back as she pegged herself at James’s flank.