The Marquess's Scottish Bride: A Sweet & Clean Historical Romance (The Chase Brides Book 2) (43 page)

JASON GUIDED
Cait back to the refreshment room and handed her a knot biscuit. She nibbled on the braided, anise-flavored bread while he wandered down the buffet table, loading a plate with light fare: asparagus, cubed cheese, an assortment of luscious fruits. Handing her the plate, he filled two more cups with the heady spiced wine.

Cait looked around for two open seats.

“I’ve another idea.” Jason inclined his head toward the door. “Come along.” Munching a cube of cheese, he led her back through the ballroom and out into the formal garden.

Burning torches were set about. Cait breathed deep of the night air, refreshingly cool compared to inside. Here and there a couple strolled the garden paths, but mostly it was quiet and serene.

She followed him out beyond the bright light of the torches, where he sat himself on a low brick wall. Handing her a cup, he took the plate from her and set it down.

“We cannot see out here,” she complained, seating herself on the other side of the plate.

“Ah, but we cannot be seen, either.” He plucked a raspberry from a small pile and popped it into his mouth. “Your eyes will adjust.”

“They’re adjusting already,” she said, feeling lightheaded.

He selected another raspberry and brought it to her lips. Sweetness burst on her tongue as she bit into it. After she swallowed, he leaned across the plate to drop a light kiss on her lips.

He pulled away an inch. “Shall we move back near the torches?”

“Nay. I find I like not being seen.” She leaned closer, bringing her mouth to his again.

With a satisfied chuckle, he kissed her again, then sat back and sipped from his cup. Next, he fed her an asparagus spear. “Lovely night, is it not?”

“Mmm.” Anything more intelligible was beyond her at the moment.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go back inside?”

She shook her head. “Mmm-mmm.”

When the asparagus was gone, he leaned in for another kiss, taking her chin in one hand, teasing her mouth till she was breathless. He tasted of fruit, spiced wine, and Jason. A most heady combination.

“I cannot go back inside,” she whispered. “I don’t think my legs would carry me.”

“Are you cold?”

“Nay.” But she was shivering. “Aye. I know not.”

He took her hand and drew her off the wall. “Come here, then. I’ll keep you warm.” And rising, he pulled her to him. His hands wandered to her back, pressing her closer.

“I’m not cold now,” she murmured against his lips.

He drew back and sipped from his cup, then tilted it to her lips so she could sip, too. Leaning against the wall, he selected a ripe strawberry, bit into it, and fed her the rest.

Never had a strawberry tasted so delicious.

A woman’s high-pitched laugh startled Cait as a couple meandered close. Jason calmly handed her a cup of wine to wash the strawberry down. Hers, his…it didn’t matter. He drained the other cup himself.

Music tinkled from a distance then abruptly ceased, telling them a door had opened and closed, and the couple had reentered the ballroom.

Jason unbuttoned his surcoat and spread the sides to envelop her against his warmth, and Caithren moved close, lifting her face for another kiss. The slap and scrape of shoes told them more people were approaching.

“Confound it.” Jason pulled away, taking the plate in one hand and Caithren’s hand in the other. She scurried to keep up with his long stride while he drew her through two small formal gardens and into a long, arched arbor, the lattice entwined with flowers and climbing vines.

Halfway through, he stopped and fed her a raspberry. And another. Laughing, she chewed and swallowed. Some juice ran down her chin, and he leaned to kiss it off. The plate between them, he kissed her neck, and a warm shiver rippled through her. He kissed his way up to her ear. “You’re delicious,” he whispered there.

“You’re very sleekit,” she returned.

“I’m what?” His lips grazed her forehead.

“Very…charming.”

He pulled back and fed her another raspberry. “I thought I was exasperating and unimaginative. Black and white.”

“Exasperating, aye. But unimaginative…” She leaned forward to eat another raspberry from his fingers. “You’re causing me to reevaluate. You seem to be changing before my very eyes. Or perhaps I was wrong.”

“You? Wrong?” His laughter rang through the fragrant tunnel. He selected a few raspberries for himself and tossed them into his mouth. “Besides,” he said around them, “the Gypsy woman said that
you
were supposed to be the creative one. And beguiling, if I recall aright.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“It was my supposed husband she was talking of, not me. And will you never let that go? I told you, she misjudged me.”

“I think not.” Before she could disagree, he pushed the last raspberry between her lips. “You’re beguiling as anything, Caithren Leslie.”

Her hands and the plate were all caught between them when he tugged her against him. He was a whole new person tonight, she thought, sinking blissfully into the kiss. Something had changed him. And if that something was her…could he love her? Because she knew in her heart she loved him, no matter that he’d deceived her, and although she’d been unable to admit it, even to herself.

Until now.

Her senses swirled at the thought, and the feel of his lips, and the intoxicating fragrance of the flowers overhead blending with his spicy scent. Just when she thought her knees would give out, yet another couple came sauntering down the arbor.

Jason pulled back with a muttered oath. “What are all these people doing out here?”

“I imagine they’re wondering the same thing about us.” Cait rubbed the spot where the plate had jabbed into her abdomen. “Why don’t you put that down?”

“This?” An appalled look on his face, he held up the plate. “There are still three strawberries left.”

“You can get more inside.”

“Ah, but I want them outside.” His eyes glittered while a fingertip lightly traced her lips.

“Please, Jase.” She shivered, but not from the cold. “I don’t think I can stand up any longer. Not…not when you do that.”

“Hmm.” Looking over her head, he craned his neck to see the back of the garden. “I spy a solution. Come along.” And once more she found herself hurrying after him, holding his hand.

Through the arbor, a white wooden summerhouse shone in the moonlight. The only opening was in the back, so he walked her around, pulled her inside, and they were alone. Crickets chirped beyond the latticed walls, but other than that, the only sounds they heard were their own uneven breaths.

“Sit,” Jason said, waving her to the bench that ran along the circular structure’s walls. “Better?”

“Much. I was…feeling weak there, for a minute.”

“Good.” Grinning, he set the plate aside and sat close by her. “I hope to have you feeling weaker still in a minute more.” And he lifted her and sat her on his lap.

She gave a little start of surprise, then looked around, although she knew they were alone. “This feels wicked.”

“Mmm.” He gave her one slow kiss. “That’s the idea.”

It was wicked but nice. It gave her perfect access to his face, which she covered with little kisses. His lips drifted in the sensitive hollows beneath her chin and along her throat. She sighed happily. “Oooh, this is very wicked.”

Laughing low, he kissed a shivery line up her throat to her mouth, then settled softly on her lips. But then he stopped. “I’ve a craving for a strawberry.”

“What?” She tried to kiss him again, but he wouldn’t permit it.

“Hold still.” He lifted a berry and bit off half. When he offered her the other half, she shook her head. With a shrug, he finished it and swallowed, then brought his lips to hers, kissing her thoroughly until all the strawberry flavor was gone and her whole world tasted like Jason.

She wound her arms around his neck, but he stopped her.

“Not yet. Two left.” He took up the second strawberry.

She lurched forward and took it in one bite.

“Tsk, sweet. Now we’ll have to make the final one last that much longer.”

While Caithren held very still and uncertain, he drew the scratchy tip of the berry over her cheeks, her chin. And around to her back, where he traced a tickly pattern on the skin exposed by the deep curve of the dress’s low neckline.

“What am I writing?” When she shrugged, his face hardened in a mock frown. “Concentrate.”

Around, up, down…”Caithren!”

“Mm-hmm.”

A curve, up, down, a squiggle…”Jason?”

“Excellent. Now…”

A big, swooping line that enclosed all he’d written. Could it be…”A heart?”

“Brilliant. I shall have to reward you.”

But their names in a heart were reward enough. Could it mean—

He fed her half the strawberry, then ate the rest himself. “Now,” he murmured against her lips. He wrapped his arms around her to pull her close—

And another couple stumbled into the summerhouse, mouth to mouth, locked in a torrid embrace.

With a groan Caithren’s head dropped to Jason’s shoulder. He stifled a strangled laugh. The couple didn’t notice. They fell to the grass in the center and started tearing at each other’s clothing.

“Don’t they see us?” Cait whispered, stunned.

“Even if they did, I suspect they’re in no condition to care.” A regretful look on his face, he lifted her with a mighty heave and set her on her feet.

THEY RAN
through the gardens, laughing all the way.

A few feet from the door, Jason pulled Caithren behind a hedge and turned her to face him. He adjusted the curls on her shoulders and kissed her on the lips. “There. You look perfect.”

Her gaze wandered down his body and back up. “You’ll do,” she proclaimed with another laugh.

He loved the way she could go from heated to heartfelt to laughing in a split second. Though that meant she could be as quick to anger as well, it was worth it. It was what made her Caithren. It was what made him want her. If only she could still want him after this night.

He knew he was hoping for the impossible. But all he could do was hope against hope…

He took a deep breath and opened the door to the music and the dancing and all the people who’d done their best—albeit innocently—to keep him from kissing Caithren this night.

Grabbing her hand, he strolled through the crowd, a single purpose in mind: to get her into his arms again.

“Cainewood! Haven’t seen you in ages! Will you introduce me—”

“Later.”

Later. Later. Later. Always one more interruption, one more excuse. It seemed an hour before they escaped out the front door and stood waiting for his coachman to bring the carriage around.

Jason drew Cait near. She nestled close. “Crivvens, it was hot in there.”

“Hot?” He took her lips in a fervent kiss. “How’s that for hot?”

She giggled. A sweet, sweet—bittersweet for him—giggle.

When the carriage arrived, they hurried inside, and he sat her back on his lap. She wiggled close, wound her arms around his neck, and fastened her lips on his. Then—
bump!
—the wheels hit a rut, and their noses mashed together.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“Mmm,” she murmured, going again for his lips, but missing and grazing his cheek instead. Another little giggle sounded by his ear.

Steadying her head in his hands, he tried once more, managing naught but a couple of fleeting pecks. The carriage bucked over the cobblestones as though it had no springs at all, never mind it was the latest—and costliest—design.

Attempting another kiss, they jounced in and out of a pothole with a bone-rattling jolt that nearly cracked their teeth. “I don’t think this will work,” she said with a sigh.

Then, rounding a corner, she bounced right to the floor and stayed there, convulsed in laughter.

“It’s not going to work.” She steadied herself with her hands on his knees. Her skirts were twisted around her legs, and her tangled curls bounced on her shoulders in the same uneven rhythm as the carriage. “How long to your house?”

This late, traffic was negligible. With the exception of aristocratic carousers, Londoners kept inside at night. “Five more minutes.”