The Highlander's Yuletide Love (13 page)

I expect that my
next letter will reach you from Spaethness, and can hardly wait to tell you how
I find it, and the visit goes on. I hope that all is well with the children and
that the weather favors the farming.

Your loving
sister,

Harriet

Sophy reined in
her horse and waited for Douglas and Colonel Stirling to come alongside her. She
raised a hand to tuck a curl back under her dashing hat, her hand lightly
skimming the side of her neck, and was suddenly aware Ranulf was watching the
movement with a lazy smile. She thought for a moment of his lips on that very
spot just over a week before, and, when she looked up and met his eyes, she
could sense that he had the same thought. She looked away, willing the
unaccustomed heat that flashed through her body to subside.

“How much
farther is it?” she asked.

“We are very
close,” promised Ranulf. “We’ll arrive before noon.”

“What a pity we
had to spend an extra night on the road,” opined Sophy.

“Traveling with
a great number of people and two small children is always difficult,” said
Ranulf. “I sometimes thought we might not get here at all.” He pulled his horse
up next to hers. “Kincraig, ride ahead; Spaethness is not two miles up this
road, and I think that your horse would like to stretch his legs. Let them know
we are coming.”

“With pleasure! Dawdling
about like this is for girls, like Sophy!” said Douglas, and immediately urged
his mount in to a trot.

Sophy watched as
he disappeared around a bend in the road, and then looked over her shoulder,
noting that the riders had far outpaced the carriages carrying her parents and
the children. “Where is Lord Exencour?” she asked nervously.

“He rides beside
his wife’s carriage,” said Ranulf easily.

“Oh.”

“So yes, you are
alone with me.”

Sophy peeped up
at him from under the brim of her hat. “I would accuse you of manufacturing
this moment, but you have avoided me since the party at Glencairn. I wondered
if you had thought better of what happened that night.”

“Oh, I have
thought better of it many times,” said Ranulf. “But I cannot regret it. I have
stayed away because I felt repeating it should be avoided—at least in your
father’s home.”

“And in your
home?” asked Sophy as lightly as she could.

“Ah, that is
another matter.” Ranulf urged his horse into a walk. “But, of course, your
father is here. I don’t think you need to fear I will ravish you.”

“I don’t fear
such a thing!” protested Sophy.

“You don’t? Then
you are far more fearless than I,” Ranulf said pensively.

Sophy’s eyes
widened and he smiled. “Surely you know by now the effect you have on me,” he
continued. “That is why I wished to speak to you privately. Over the next few
weeks I will allow you to decide how much time we spend together. If you treat
me formally, I will take your meaning.”

Sophy looked
away, and they rode in silence for moment. Finally she screwed up her courage
and turned to him. “I thought I might ask you to sit for me,” she said quietly.

“Sit for you?”

Sophy plowed
ahead. “I would like to paint a portrait of you. I’ve thought about it almost
since we first met.”

“Have you?” said
Ranulf noncommittally.

“You strike me
as a man of great contrasts.” Sophy stared straight ahead, not willing to meet
his eyes. “You can be open and honest, but it also seems you keep a great deal
to yourself. I want to try to capture that.”

“I am honored. I
would be glad to sit for you.”

The rode along
for a few minutes in silence, Sophy not sure if she was elated or appalled by
what she had just done.

“You realize
this will necessitate us being alone a great deal,” said Ranulf finally.

“You did say you
wished to know me better,” replied Sophy.

“I did indeed.”

“This will give
you an opportunity to do so,” she pointed out.

“So it will.”

Sophy glanced at
him finally, but his face was unreadable. They topped a rise in the road and
Ranulf reined his horse in, gesturing down the road ahead of him.

“That is
Spaethness Castle,” he said quietly.

Sophy looked up,
surprised. She saw a loch below; a sparkling lapis expanse of sun dappled
ripples, stretching towards an imposing hill, its lower reaches garbed in gorse
and heather, while the bare rocky peak above glistened in the sun. At the end
of the loch, a castle could be seen, occupying a large lawn, dotted with a few
ancient trees that swept down to the edge of the water. A medieval hall and
keep were visible, the gray granite native stone walls rising high, with a
circular keep at one corner, and protective turrets at the other three, their
arrow slots a testimony to a violent past. It was attached to a newer wing,
designed by a discerning eye for comfort and elegance, with rooflines and large
windows that harmonized with the gothic past, but provided spacious, light-filled
rooms. Between the castle and the lawn lay flower gardens, their riot of color
in full bloom, with paths through the beds leading to the loch.

“It’s beautiful,”
she said. “Truly. I had no idea your home was so magnificent. I—I feel almost
as though I have been here before.”

Ranulf smiled. “It
is home. I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? I’ve
never seen anything so lovely. The light on the stones—” her voice drifted off.

“What of
Glencairn?” asked Ranulf softly.

“Oh—of course,
you know how I feel about my home. But I have never seen anything like
Spaethness.”

“You make me
very happy. I look forward to showing it to you.”

Ranulf urged his
horse forward, and Sophy’s fell into place beside him. They trotted down the
last half-mile of road, halting in front of the massive oaken door. Ranulf
dismounted as a servant ran forward to hold his horse, then turned to Sophy to
help her dismount. She hesitated a moment before sliding down out of her saddle
into his grasp. Firm hands gripped her waist lightly as he lowered her to the
ground, holding her for just a moment longer than was perhaps proper. Sophy
could feel Ranulf’s legs through the heavy twill of her riding skirt and, when
he set her on her feet, she paused a moment, enjoying his closeness and his
masculine scent, before stepping back demurely.

“Thank you,
Colonel Stirling,” she murmured.

“My pleasure.” He
signaled to the servant to take the horses back to the stables, and offered
Sophy his arm. “Welcome to Spaethness Keep, Lady Sophia,” he said.

She took his arm
gingerly and he led her up the stairs. The door with its huge strap hinges
swung open and a butler appeared, wreathed in smiles.

“Welcome home,
sir,” he said.

“Thank you,
Gibbs.” Ranulf led Sophy into the vast hall. The vaulted ceiling rose far above
them, its gracefully carved stone disappearing into the gloom.

Sophy gazed up,
amazed. “How wonderful!”

Ranulf smiled. “It
will be my pleasure to show you the entire Keep,” he promised. “Gibbs, this is
Lady Sophia Learmouth. She will need a painting studio while she is here. Please
speak to Mrs. Ross and make arrangements. Find a room that is spacious and well
lit, with large windows.”

Gibbs was too
well trained to show surprise at this request, and only bowed politely. “Yes,
sir,” he said.

“A studio! Sophy,
you don’t mean to spend all your time cooped up inside while we’re here!”

Sophy turned to
find Douglas bearing down on them. “A dashed fine house you have here, Ranulf,”
he said eagerly.

“Thank you,”
replied Ranulf. He glanced down at Sophy. “Your sister must be able to pursue
her work while she is here at Spaethness. It is important to her, and therefore
it is important to me. Besides, I have just agreed to sit for a portrait.”

“A portrait! How
dreadful! You will be sitting inside with Sophy on all these lovely days, when
you might be fishing or riding with me.”

“There will be
plenty of time for that,” said Ranulf. “I imagine your sister will, from time
to time, wish to join in our entertainments as well.”

Douglas shrugged.
It clearly did not matter a bit to him whether Sophy participated or not. “May
we visit your stables now?”

“And basely
abandon your sister?”

“Sophy won’t
mind.”

 “The stables
are in the rear of the building, and my stablemaster would be glad to show you
about, but I think good manners demand that I stay here until your parents and
the Exencours arrive, so I may greet them.”

 “Suit yourself.
Are you sure your groom won’t mind?”

“I think he
would be delighted to spend time with someone as enthusiastic as you, Kincraig.
By all means, do seek him out.”

Needing no more
encouragement, Douglas made for the stables, and Ranulf led Sophy into a
sitting room off the hall.

“Do you recall
saying, the very first time I met you, that you would miss your brother were he
to disappear? Do you still feel the same today?”

Sophy chuckled. “I
love him dearly, but yes, there are times he is decidedly annoying.”

“Such as now?”

Sophy glanced at
him with a smile. “Precisely.” She reached up and removed her hat, placing it
on a little table and turning to a tall mirror in a large gilt frame attached
to the wall to adjust her hair. As she raised her hands to pat a curl or two
back into place, Ranulf appeared behind her.

“Let me do that
for you.”

Their eyes met
in the mirror, his lazily smiling, hers wide and a bit apprehensive. As she
watched, he reached up slowly to push an errant ringlet into place, and then
delicately smooth back a tendril that had slipped onto her forehead. His
fingers were very gentle and she made a little gasping sound as she leaned back
into him, her eyes following his gestures in the mirror. He slid the back of
his hand caressingly down her cheek and then reached around to slowly cup her
chin.

“What a pity
you’re wearing that riding habit,” he murmured as he slid one arm around her
waist, drawing her body tightly against his. “I most definitely prefer muslin
or silk. They are so much less sturdy. Were you mine I would make sure you
never wore such coarse fabric.”

His other hand
crept around to cup one breast as he placed a kiss on the nape of her neck. His
warm breath seemed to light a fire in Sophy and she groaned and sought to turn
in his arms.

“No, don’t. I
want you to see yourself,” whispered Ranulf. His finger rubbed at her nipple,
encased in the stiff bodice of her habit as he kissed and licked his way across
the back of her neck to nuzzle at her ear. When he released her breast she made
a soft sound of protest, but he only laughed softly.

“There’s more,”
he said in a heated voice.

Sophy watched, fascinated,
as he gathered a handful of her riding skirt and slowly lifted it, revealing
the neat leather boots she wore and then her slender legs, clad in sensible
linen stockings. The skirt rose further, and her garters were exposed, and then
the soft skin of her thigh. Ranulf nipped at her earlobe. “Hold up your skirt,”
he whispered, so softly she could barely hear him.

Overcome by the
sensations crashing through her, she clutched at the fabric as his hand moved
to her inner thigh, gently stroking the tender flesh he found there.

“You are
delightful—so fresh and sweet,” he said. His fingers moved persuasively over
her, and she felt her knees grow weak. His arm tightened slightly about her
waist, securing her.

“Raise it,” he
urged, his tongue tracing the delicate scroll of her ear.

Sophy paused for
one moment, but then obeyed, raising the skirt an inch or two as his hand
tantalizing followed. His skin was dark against the whiteness of her thighs,
his fingers slightly rough against her tenderness.

“Higher,” he
commanded, his voice thickening with passion.

Sophy felt her
face grow hot, and while she wished to look away, she could not. She hesitated
only a moment, and then lifted it further, bunching it at her waist. She closed
her eyes when she realized she had revealed the thatch of dark curls between
her legs, but did not lower the skirt.

“Good girl.” Ranulf’s
hand slid up her thigh, his fingers just brushing the softness covering her
mons, and then feathered across her hip and stomach. “Open your eyes, Sophy.”

She did so
slowly, and, looking in the mirror, her gaze met his for a moment. She blushed
violently, and then looked down, mesmerized,
as
his hand slid down, tangling briefly in her curls before cupping her, his thumb
lightly circling the nub between her legs that ached for his touch. She jumped
and gasped.

“Do you like
that?”

Unable to speak,
Sophy nodded.

“I thought you
might,” Ranulf smiled. “There is something else you may enjoy—”

Suddenly they
heard a stir in the hallway, and the squeak of the large door swinging open
followed by the butler greeting new arrivals. Through her haze, Sophy heard
Isobel’s cheerful voice, as well as Harriet’s, breathless with enthusiasm. Her
eyes flew open, and she gave a hiccup of frustration.