Courting an Angel (49 page)

“How do ye know?”

“Granny Biddy told me.” Gabby lowered her voice and added, “There exist such bein’s as ghosts, though. If my granny saw how thin ye’ve become, she’d murder me and make me one of them.”

“I amna hungry,” Rob said, and then sighed. Apparently, their nightly argument about eating supper was about to begin.

“If ye sicken while I’m on the watch and Granny Biddy kills me,” Gabby threatened, “I swear I’ll come back to haunt ye.”

That remark made Rob smile. “Verra well, bring me a bowl of soup.”

“With a slice of bread and butter?”

Rob nodded reluctantly.

Gabby leaped out of her chair and dropped the knitting onto her lap, ordering, “Work on this until I return.”

Rob stared at the knitting and dropped a hand to her belly. Her beautiful baby would never wear the gowns and the blankets she’d made for him. And what would Gordon do when she and their baby were dead? Would he find another, more suitable wife? Or would he howl a protest and seek revenge for their deaths?

The chamber door opened and closed with a quiet click. Then Rob heard the bolt being thrown.

“Set the tray on the table,” she said without looking up. “I’ll eat in a few minutes.”

“Ye’ll eat now, angel, or ye’ll do without.”

Rob bolted out other chair at the unmistakable sound of her husband’s husky voice. She whirled toward the door and dropped her mouth open in surprised confusion.

The voice belonged to her husband, but the figure in the shadows was a woman of gigantic proportions. Dressed in a skirt and a cloak, the long-haired woman set the supper tray on a nearby table.

“Who are ye?” Rob demanded. “Identify yerself.”

The woman flicked the hood of her cloak back. Then she reached up, yanked her flowing mane of dark hair right off her head, and tossed it onto the floor.

Casting her a devastatingly familiar smile, the woman said, “Dinna ye recognize yer own husband, angel?”

With a soft cry of joy, Rob sprung to life. She ran across the chamber and threw herself into his arms.

With a groan of sublime relief, Gordon crushed her against his hard masculine frame. He dipped his head, and his lips captured hers in an earth-shattering kiss that melted into another. And then another.

When he finally lifted his lips from hers, Rob wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against the comforting solidness of his chest. “Thwartin’ the king’s will is risky business,” she said. “Ye shouldna be here.”

“I couldna stay away another moment.” Gordon tilted her face up and gazed into her eyes. “I love ye with all of my heart and my soul.”

Rob burst into tears at that. She lowered her head and hid her face against his chest.

“I thought admittin’ my love would make ye happy,” Gordon said, holding her protectively close within the circle of his embrace.

“I — I am h-happy.”

“Then why are ye weepin’?”

Rob looked up at him. “Because ye love me.”

That made Gordon smile. “Ye’d really be weepin’ and wailin’ if ye knew what I went through to get to ye.”

“Tell me.”

“As ye’ve seen, I dressed like a woman,” Gordon said, his disgust apparent in his voice. “Then Talbot insisted I play the role of his Edinburgh paramour.”

“Henry helped ye?”

“God’s balls, but I dinna like the feelin’ of a man’s arms around me,” he added ruefully.

Rob giggled at that.

“That’s my girl,” Gordon said, brushing the tears from her face. Then, “Talbot will be returnin’ to escort me back to Campbell Mansion in less than two hours. Gabby told me ye hadna been eatin’. Will ye sup first?”

Rob shook her head. Without modesty or shame, she said, “I want ye to love me.”

Gordon flashed her his devastating grin. “With pleasure, my lady.”

They divested themselves of their garments where they stood. Naked, Gordon pulled her softness against the hard planes of his body and kissed her as if he would never let her go, pouring all of his love and his need into that single, stirring kiss. For a long moment they stood entwined and cast one long shadow on the wall.

Finally, Gordon scooped her into his arms and gently placed her across the bed. Pausing before joining her, he worshipped her with his eyes.

Gordon dropped his heated gaze from her hauntingly lovely face to her swollen breasts with their enlarged dusky nipples, the proof that his seed grew within her womb. Lower his gaze drifted to her curvaceous hips and rounded belly.

With a groan of mingling emotion and need, Gordon dropped to his knees on the floor in front of her. He glided the palms of his hands up the sides other hips and kissed the mound other swollen belly.

“The babe has grown,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Yes,” she answered on a sigh.

Gordon slashed his tongue up the moist valley between her thighs and heard her sharp intake of breath at the exquisite sensation. Cupping her buttocks, he held her steady while his exploring tongue made her writhe with hot desire.

Up and down, Gordon flicked his tongue in a gentle assault on her womanhood. He licked and then kissed her dewy jewel as his talented fingers teased and taunted her sensitive nipples.

Surrendering completely, Rob cried out and melted against his tongue. She clung to him desperately as wave after wave of throbbing pleasure carried her to paradise and beyond.

When she stilled, Gordon stood and gently drew her toward the edge of the bed. He positioned himself between her thighs, plunged his manhood deep inside her, sheathing himself to the hilt, and groaned at the wet, hot spasms caressing him. Ever so slowly, he withdrew and then eased forward again, piercing her softness, teasing her again and again until she trembled with rekindled need. Holding her hips steady, Gordon thrust deep and ground himself into her throbbing softness.

With mingling cries, Gordon and Rob exploded together, and then lay still as they floated back to earth from their shared paradise. When he regained strength enough to move, Gordon stood and gently turned her lengthwise on the bed. He lay down beside her and cradled her in his arms.

Rob sighed with contentment and said without preamble, “Tell me again, Gordy.”

“I love ye,” he whispered, brushing his lips across her temple. “I love ye more than life itself.”

“And I love ye.” Rob rolled over on top of him and asked, “How long have ye loved me?”

Gordon encircled her with his arms and smiled as if remembering. “’Twas that verra first day, I think.”

“At Uncle Richard’s party?”

“No, angel. ’Twas when ye insisted I kill the monster beneath yer bed or ye wouldna agree to become my wife.”

Rob gave him a rueful smile. “Yer lyin’, Gordy.”

“God’s balls, ’tis the truth,” he insisted. Then, “When did ye begin to love me?”

“’Twas that day in my father’s hall when ye knelt before me and kissed my birthmarked hand.”

“Ye werena sayin’ that when I rode to England to fetch ye home,” Gordon teased, cocking a brow at her.

“My mother taught me that a lady always plays hard-to-get,” Rob countered, casting him a flirtatious smile and batting her ebony lashes at him.

Gordon chuckled. He caressed the slender column of her back and cupped her buttocks. “I never knew angels had such seductive arses.”

Rob leaned close and captured his lips with her own. Her kiss was gently probing and would have lasted for an eternity, but a light rapping sounded on the chamber door.

Rob lifted her head and listened, then said, “’Tis Henry lookin’ for ye.”

“’Tisna time,” Gordon whispered. “Ask who it is.”

“Who’s there?” Rob called.

“Lavinia Kerr,” came the answer. “’Tis urgent that I speak with ye.”

Rob looked at her husband in alarm. When he nodded, she called, “Just a minute.”

“Throw my clothes and boots on the bed,” Gordon whispered. “We’ll draw the bed curtains, and she’ll never realize ye are na alone.”

Exhibiting more energy than she had in three weeks, Rob leaped off the bed, gathered her husband’s clothing and wig, and tossed them onto the bed. While he pulled the bed curtains shut, she donned her night shift and bed robe, and then hurried across the chamber.

Opening the door a crack, Rob peered at the redhead and asked in a coolly polite voice, “What can I do for ye, Lady Kerr?”

“I need to speak with ye.”

Rob cocked a brow at her. “Aboot what?”

“Please, I need yer help,” Lavinia whined, her anxiety etched across her expression. “May I come inside?”

Rob hesitated for a fraction of a moment, but then nodded and opened the door, allowing the other woman entrance. Lavinia walked past her into the chamber.

The two women sat in the chairs in front of the hearth. Rob waited for her guest to speak and prayed that Henry Talbot wouldn’t arrive while Lavinia was there.

“I’m verra sorry for yer troubles,” Lavinia began. “’Tis all Mungo’s fault, of course. He forced me to pick a fight with ye that evenin’.”

Rob stared at her in surprise.

“Mungo wanted to accuse ye of practicin’ witchcraft,” Lavinia explained. “I refused to feign an illness, but then really did become sick. Ye didna curse me into an illness, did ye?”

That did it. “I’ve heard enough,” Rob said curtly. “Please leave, Lady Kerr.”

“Forgive me,” Lavinia apologized, holding her hand up in supplication. “Yer expression tells me yer innocent. Mungo must have slipped somethin’ into my wine that night. He hates the whole MacArthur clan, ye know, and has waited a lifetime for his revenge.”

“Why does he blame my mother for his father’s death?” Rob asked.

“A long time ago, his father abducted yer mother but drowned when she made good her escape,” Lavinia answered. “The MacArthurs never knew ’twas Finlay MacKinnon because he was wearin’ the Menzies plaid. Yer father and the Menzies chieftain were embroiled in a feud at the time so everyone assumed ’twas a Menzies who snatched yer mother.”

Rob closed her eyes. Now she knew who’d tried to push her into the lions’ pit at the queen’s menagerie and who was behind the attempt on her brother’s life at Hampton Court.

“If yer truly sorry,” Rob said, looking at the other woman, “ye’ll go to the king with this information.”

“I canna do that,” Lavinia cried. “Mungo threatened me too. Besides, Jamie willna listen now that he’s seen yer —” she hesitated — “yer mark.”

“Then why are ye tellin’ me this?” Rob asked.

“I need yer help,” Lavinia admitted. “In order to protect myself permanently from Mungo, I’ve set my sights on becomin’ the king’s mistress but canna seem to catch his eye. I want ye to give me a love potion.”

Rob burst out laughing. “I amna a witch, Livy, and canna mix ye a love potion.”

Lavinia’s expression drooped. “I ken why ye dinna want to help me.”

In spite of the harm done to her, Rob was unable to ignore the other woman’s disappointed expression. Her husband’s professed love had opened her heart again, so she could sympathize with another’s plight.

“I canna give ye a love potion,” Rob said, “but I can tell ye what worked for me with Gordy.”

Lavinia perked up. “What?”

“Ye must feed the king cockle bread,” Rob answered, and could almost hear her husband’s silent laughter from where he hid behind the bed curtains.

“I dinna ken.”

“Cockle bread is an aphrodisiac cake,” Rob explained. “Ye knead a small piece of dough, mold it against yer privates, and then bake it. Feed it to Jamie, and he’ll be fairly droolin’ to get his hands on ye.”

“Shall I . . .” Lavinia blushed and dropped her gaze. “Shall I touch myself first so my love juices soak the dough?”

Rob struggled against the laughter bubbling up in her throat. “Well, I suppose it couldna hurt and may even help yer cause.”

“Thank ye so much,” Lavinia said, rising from her chair, giving her a pleased smile. “So that’s how ye managed to snatch Gordy from me. I just knew ye needed some help. I’m indebted to ye, Lady Rob, and I’ll certainly send Gordon whatever gold coins I can spare for yer ransom.”

“Every coin helps,” Rob said dryly. She closed the door and bolted it behind her guest.

Hurrying across the chamber, Rob yanked the bed curtain aside and asked, “Ye heard?”

Gordon burst out laughing but sobered quickly. “I’ll kill that MacKinnon bastard.”

“Dinna do anythin’ rash,” Rob said, snuggling into his embrace. Then, “Will ye be able to raise the gold?”

“Dinna fret aboot that, angel.” Gordon planted a kiss on her lips. “Ye’ll be sleepin’ beside me at Campbell Mansion three weeks from tonight, and the mornin’ after that yell be ridin’ beside me on the road to Argyll.”

Rob reached up with her birthmarked hand and caressed his cheek, saying, “Gordy?”

Hearing the question in her voice, Gordon turned his face to kiss the palm of her hand and vowed, “I do love ye, angel. Like our weddin’ band says, ‘Ye and No Other.’”

Their lips met in a sweetly devastating kiss. And then a knocking sounded on the chamber door.