Days of Gold (28 page)

“I’m carrying you into the bushes, what do you think? Or would you rather share our four-holer?”

“Bushes,” she said. “Angus, what’s going on? Has...” She hesitated. “Has something changed?” She knew she was pushing him, trying to make him say what she so wanted to hear, that he’d at last realized he loved her and wanted to spend his life with her.

“No, nothing’s changed,” he said. “It’s the same as it was.” He was smiling. He knew what she wanted him to say, but not yet. He’d told her the truth. Nothing had changed. He still loved her just as he did before they parted.

Edilean had no reply to his words, and a minute later, when he set her down, she found herself in high meadow grass, with trees shading them.

“I’ll leave you here,” he said. “Follow the path to me and I’ll take you back.”

It took her only minutes to do her business, then she stood and looked around her. The sun was going down, and the light across the field was beautiful. The brilliant colors of wildflowers were sprinkled among the grasses.

Instead of taking the path back to Angus, she made her way through the field to a big oak tree. The area under it was trampled down, and it reminded her of a place where she’d gone to be alone when she was a child. She’d grown up in the house her father’s family had owned for four generations. As her father was rarely there, she’d spent her early life with governesses and nannies, and the oak tree had been where she escaped them. Smiling, she remembered that in her trunk, which was back in Scotland, she had a bagful of acorns from that tree. She planned to keep her girlhood vow and plant an acorn from that tree wherever she settled.

“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” Angus said softly from beside her.

“Yes.”

“I often come here to get away from the tavern.”

“Then you don’t love the place?” she asked, laughter in her voice.

“I hate it.” He didn’t look at her as he put out his hand and took her small one. “Edilean,” he said.

She turned, her eyes looking up at him in the soft light. No words needed to pass between them as he slipped his arms about her and put his mouth on hers.

They were alone under a tree, sweet-smelling grass beneath them, and the woman in his arms wore nothing but a long shirt.

Her mouth opened under his. He could feel her inexperience, but he could also feel her eagerness to learn—and it was an irresistible combination.

As he pulled her into his arms, he kissed her neck. “If I begin, I won’t be able to stop.”

“No one asked you to,” she said, making him smile.

He put his arms under her legs, and lowered her to the ground as he lay beside her. “You must tell me if I hurt you,” he said as he touched a bruise on her shoulder and she winced.

He pushed the shirt aside and kissed the bruise. “Better?”

“Much,” she whispered. “But I have other places that need healing. My ribs were badly injured.”

He put his hand on her leg, and inched up under the loose shirt. “Any bruises here?”

Her eyes were closed and her head tipped to one side as he kissed her neck. He could feel that she was cautious and holding back. With regret, he remembered when she’d been open to him, her eyes full of love and desire. This time, he’d go slow with her. And afterward... He couldn’t allow himself to think about that, but somewhere in his mind was the thought that if she wanted him and he knew he wanted her, then why not? Love wasn’t something that could be based on logic and practicality.

“What of this?” he whispered. “Does this ache? What about here?”

He put his hand up her thigh, to the center of her, and he felt her intake of breath.

In the next second, he’d pulled the shirt over her head, and she was nude before him. He wanted to look at her with eyes of love and lust, not as he had before when searching her beautiful body for injuries. In the gathering darkness the bruises looked almost silver.

“I will kiss every one of them,” he whispered as his lips moved lower to her breast, then lower still.

It took a while but he began to feel her reluctance leave her and he felt her growing passion. He took his time, kissing her past the point where he was in agony with wanting her, but he knew he had to go slowly.

When she was moaning, her hands in his hair, he moved onto
her, afraid he’d crush her tiny form, but she pulled him to her, her legs clutching him.

When he entered her, she started to cry out, but he put his mouth to hers and she quietened. Minutes later, they both came to ecstasy.

I
WANT TO HEAR
all of it,” Angus said. “Don’t leave out even one gesture.” They were in his bedroom, Edilean’s head on his chest, and it was nearly dawn. They’d made love most of the night, twice under the tree, and when it grew dark, they’d moved indoors.

“You mean you want to hear about the hair pulling and the kicking and the biting?”

“Biting?!”

“No, no biting,” Edilean said as she ran her hand over Angus’s bare chest. “I don’t think Tabitha wanted the fight, but then, she didn’t know the jewels were real.”

“And you believed her?”

Edilean raised up on one elbow. “Don’t you dare talk to me about believing Tabitha! I did
not
believe what she said about you and her.”

“What did she say?” he asked, and Edilean told him of Tabitha’s words about having slept with Angus and what he’d said about Edilean.

“You didn’t believe her?” Angus asked softly.

“No. I’ve always known she’s a liar.
You
are the one who believed every word she said.”

“I did not!” When Edilean kept staring at him, he said, “Perhaps I did. She seemed like a sweet girl.”

“She’s a liar and a thief,” Edilean said.

He pushed her head back down to his shoulder. “You’ve made it clear what you think of her, but how did you guess that
she
was the one who’d taken the jewels?”

“Multiplication.”

“What?”

“I multiplied your male intelligence by the size of her bosom and I never doubted who’d stolen the jewels.”

“My male—?” Angus said, then, careful of her bruises, he lifted her upward. “I shall repay you for that!”

“And how will you punish me?”

“With kisses,” he said, and proceeded to carry out the sentence.

But Edilean drew away and pushed the cover off him. When he started to pull it back, she put her hand over his. She wanted to
see
him. She wanted to look at the body she’d seen so often but that was always hidden under clothes.

He seemed to understand and he lay back on the pillow, his dark eyes watching her. She put her hand on his shoulder and pulled, wanting him to turn over. She could concentrate better if he wasn’t looking at her.

His back was broad, with deep indentations from muscle under smooth skin that held not an ounce of fat. She ran her hands from his shoulders to his slim waist—and when she felt the ridges, she gasped. The room was dim, so she stretched across him to reach the lamp. As she did so, her breasts rested on the back of his arm.

“Do you mean to torture me?” he asked.

She turned up the lamp, and looked at his bare back. The ridges she’d felt were scars, and there were several large ones. She ran her hand over one that went from under his arm to his spine. “What’s this from?”

“A bullet.”

When she said nothing more, just glared at him, he gave a one-sided grin. “I was sixteen and not so good at concealment and—”

“By ‘concealment’ do you mean sneaking around in the grass and spying on people drawing pictures?”

“Aye, that,” he said. “I followed some rustlers, I got too close, they saw me, and shot me.”

Bending, she kissed the long scar. “Who took care of you?”

“Kenna, my sister.”

When she felt him hesitate, she lifted her head. “You’re thinking of her new baby and wondering what she had, aren’t you?”

“Aye, lass,” he said. “Do you know me so well?”

“More than you think.” When he started to turn over, she pushed him back down and touched another scar, what looked like a burn on the back of his arm.

“Fell into the fire when I was three.”

“And these?” There were four jagged lumps on the right side of his waist.

“Shamus pushed me off a cliff and I landed on rocks.”

“Ah, Shamus. And to think that had circumstances been different, now
he
would be here with me.”

Angus laughed at that, and she could feel his body move against hers. She pushed the sheet down and ran her hands over the curve of his buttocks, then down to his heavily muscled thighs.

“Lass!” he said, his voice husky. “You will unman me.”

“You mean no other woman has
looked
at you?”

“Not like this.” He started to turn over, but she put her hand on his back and kept him in place.

“I’m not done with you yet.” She felt another scar on his left thigh. “And this one?”

“Dragged by a horse over a broken piece of iron. I nearly lost my leg with that one.”

“And you were?”

“Ten.”

“I’m glad you came to me whole.”

“Whole and growing,” he murmured. “Edilean! I can take little more of this.”

She moved down to his feet. There were several little scars around his ankles, but none that looked as though they’d threatened his life. She sat down at his feet and looked at the long, glorious, nude form of him before her. How strange it all was, she thought. She’d gone through her life being warned by nannies and teachers to keep her body covered at all times, but here she was, totally naked and staring at this magnificent man who had on not a stitch.

Slowly, she slid her body up his, feeling her breasts on every inch of him, kissing his warm, dark skin all the way up. When she reached his neck, he turned over to pull her on top of him. “Wait!” she said, “I want to see the front of you.”

“How about if you look while sitting up?”

“Sitting—?” she began, but then he lifted her and sat her down on top of the part of him that was eagerly awaiting her. “I see,” she said. “Sitting. What do I do now?”

“Anything you want to,” he said in a way that made her smile—and feel powerful.

“Is it like riding a horse? Shall I try posting?” She went to her knees and began to move up and down, slowly and rhythmically.
She’d spent a great deal of her life on a horse, and her thighs were strong.

“How about a gallop?” she said.

Angus pushed her down onto the bed, never breaking contact. “How about if your horse takes command and runs away with you?” he said as he thrust into her.

“Yes,” was all she said.

An hour later, Edilean was asleep, her nude body half on his, half on the bed, and Angus wanted to stay with her forever, but he could hear people stirring about and he knew he must get up. If he didn’t, within minutes someone would be pounding on his door, wanting to know where things were and why wasn’t he handling whatever problem had come up.

This will be my last day, he thought as he eased himself out of the bed, careful not to disturb Edilean. He’d let her sleep some more, then he’d come back to the room and they’d... He wasn’t sure what they’d do, but he knew that they’d do it together.

As he dressed, he watched her, looked at her beautiful, bruised face, at the way she twitched her nose while she slept, the way her small body showed under the covers.

I hope she’s with child, he thought, and paused as he pulled on a shoe. Yes. With child. A little girl who looked just like her. They’d name her Catherine after his grandmother. Catherine Edilean. Angus smiled. What would the last name be? Since he was a wanted man, they couldn’t use McTern, but then he didn’t want to continue using the Harcourt name either. When she woke up, he’d have to talk to Edilean about it, and together they’d choose a new name.

When he was dressed, he tiptoed out of the room and went into the tavern.

Dolly glanced up at him. “Thought you’d quit. Or maybe you just want to because of the filly you have in your room.”

Angus smiled. He was used to living where no secrets were kept. “Just another one,” he said. “Nothing special.”

“That’s not what I heard.” She nodded toward the young man who’d brought Edilean to him the day before. He was sitting at a table with half a dozen other men, and he was telling a story that obviously fascinated them.

Angus turned away so Dolly wouldn’t see his frown. “And what has he been telling people?”

“That she can fight as good as a man.”

“What else?”

“There’s more?”

Angus wanted to ask her if the bigmouthed young man had told who Edilean was, if he’d told where she lived.

Dolly stepped closer to him. “He hasn’t told who your little lady is, if that’s what you’re worried about. In fact, the boy’s made it seem that she’s one of those transported criminals.”

He looked at her sharply.

“I saw the two of you,” she said, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “I was young once. She’s no criminal, and he’s a good boy, that one.” Turning away, she went out from behind the bar to serve breakfast to the men.

Angus drew a tankard of beer for himself and drank it in one gulp. He hadn’t had any sleep during the night as Edilean had been... Smiling, he remembered the night, the kisses, the sounds, the positions. She had embarrassed and surprised him when she’d studied the back of him, but he’d loved it. It looked like her curiosity about the world extended to more than countries and manners. All in all, it had been a night of such pure joy that he thought that if he were to die now, he would regret nothing.