Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) (30 page)

“I would die for you.” He took her hard against the back wall, and she understood this was his way of making her understand. He wasn’t a gentleman and never would be. A life with him would be wildly unpredictable.

And as if in answer to her reckless thoughts, he fumbled with her bodice, unlacing her with one hand. All the while, he continued to penetrate her body. She was caught up in the storm of feelings, and when he freed a breast, she shuddered. His mouth was upon her, sucking and drawing even deeper sensations.

It was like being conquered by a barbarian, powerless to do anything except ride out the fury of his aching thrusts. The first release struck her hard, and she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“That’s it, Margaret,” he murmured against her nipple. “Feel what it is I’m doing to you.”

When the first wave ended, Cain kissed her hard, bringing her to his bed. He guided her knees up, never ceasing the rhythmic thrusts. He was like an iron rod, hard and unrelenting as he forced her to take him.

And God above, it felt good.

Abruptly, he stopped, and rested his weight on his forearms. “There’s no man who will ever make you feel like this.”

Margaret was trembling violently, unable to think or breathe as he remained buried inside her. She was dying on the edge of pleasure, and he rested his hand upon her breast. While he was still motionless, he plucked at her nipple, drawing out the sensations.

She wrapped her legs around him, her body helpless but to ride out the intense surrender. Cain held her wrists, his mouth sucking hard against her breast until she was unable to breathe or speak. A hoarse cry broke forth from him when he seized his own release, and she held him tightly as he shuddered.

“I have to leave and find Jonah,” he told her. “I’m all he has.” There was regret in his words, but she understood that there was no choice.

“I know.” She stroked his back again, kissing him lightly. “But promise me that you’ll come back.” Flesh to flesh, she ran her hands over his scarred back, as if to heal the wounds he’d suffered for her. The fireplace filled the small house with warmth, and she relaxed under the caress of Cain’s hands upon her skin.

“When I return, I’m going to marry you, lass. Because we’re meant to be together.”

TWO WEEKS LATER

Cold rain sliced through the wool of his plaid, making Jonah feel as if he’d never get warm again. He’d traveled across the Highlands with MacKinloch, but even after they’d caught a ride in a farmer’s wagon, they were nowhere near London.

Having an adventure apparently meant being half frozen and starving to death. Aye, MacKinloch had brought him some food, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. He was ready to begin gnawing on grass if they didn’t get meat soon.

“Where are we?” he asked Joseph, when they stopped for water. “How many more days, ’til we’re there?”

MacKinloch took a drink from his water flask. “Another week, lad. But we’ll stop in a village. We’re actually no’ far from Falsham. If you look there—” he pointed to the thatched roofs on the distant horizon “—you’ll see where we’ll bide this night.”

Jonah didn’t ask how they were going to pay for their lodging. While he hoped that MacKinloch had coins, the man hadn’t mentioned anything before.

“Why are we so close to Falsham?” It was all the way on the opposite side of the country. Why hadn’t they gone south? It made little sense.

“I thought we’d stop and see Dr. Paul Fraser. You remember him, don’t you, lad? It might be he could loan us his coach or horses at the very least. ’Twould take too long to reach London otherwise.”

Jonah relaxed at that. Dr. Fraser had been a friend of their clan, and he’d married Juliette Andrews. They had later learned that Paul Fraser’s father had been the younger son of a viscount, and Fraser had inherited the estate.

Often, Jonah wondered what it would be like to suddenly learn that his parents were wealthy and that he should have been living in a palace. He dreamed of waking in a soft bed with a pillow. And food—oh, but the food would be a taste of Heaven. He imagined roasted beef dripping with juices, cakes and tarts with berries and cream . . . even a cup of chocolate. Never before had he tasted it, but he’d heard that highborn ladies often drank a cup in the morning.

His feet were blistered from walking, but Jonah hastened his step to keep up with MacKinloch. It would be sunset soon, and he was eager to rest for the night. His clothes were sodden from the rain, and he was eager to stand near a fire.

As they entered the village, Jonah saw a group of men talking and pointing toward the road. At first he wondered if they were eyeing himself and MacKinloch. But the men paid little heed to their arrival.

“Wait here, lad,” MacKinloch ordered. “I’ll go and find out where we can stay for the night.”

While he went to talk with the others, Jonah moved toward one of the thatched cottages. He’d tried to eavesdrop on their conversation, but the men had kept their voices to a low whisper.

“Who are ye?” a voice asked from behind him. Jonah turned and saw a girl with long black braids standing there. She was slightly taller than him, and he felt his cheeks redden, for the girl was fair of face.

“I’m Jonah Sinclair,” he mumbled. “From Ballaloch.” At the girl’s curious look, he added, “We’re going to visit a friend, Dr. Paul Fraser.”

She brightened at that. “He’s a good man, that Dr. Fraser. I’ve met him a time or two.” Eyeing him, she added, “Are ye traveling there tonight?”

Jonah shook his head. “In the morning.” On a whim, he asked, “We’re looking for a place to stay this night. Do you ken where we might find an inn or a room?”

“I’ll ask my mam. She might let ye stay with us.” Her eyes were the color of dark ale, and her skin was creamy and clear. When she smiled at him, Jonah backed up and struck his shoulder against the frame of the house.

Words tangled up in his mouth, and he couldn’t find a single thing to say. Instead, he glanced back at MacKinloch. The men were still talking, and the girl added, “Ye are no’ the first visitors today. A coach came up from London a few hours ago. Two men and a woman were traveling together. They’re wanting to know who it was.”

Jonah shrugged, for one coach was much the same as the next. Why would they care who the travelers were?

“Did you e’er find out?” Jonah asked. His stomach growled, and he hoped that MacKinloch would help him find supper this night.

The girl shook her head. “We only heard the name Brandon. He was an earl, and that’s all we ken.”

Jonah froze in place, wondering if he’d heard aright. “Did the coach have a family crest?”

The girl nodded. “There was a red star and a lion.”

“Strathland,” he whispered. It had to be. Yet he didn’t know how that was possible. The earl had gone mad and had been in a lunatic asylum for years. How could he have escaped? But the man’s name was Brandon Carlisle, and Jonah knew that crest well. He’d seen it often enough, when he’d gone to steal food from the earl.

“Have ye heard of him?” the girl asked.

“Aye. But I thought he was in London.”
Locked away where he’d do no more harm,
Jonah thought. But then, why would Lord Strathland have traveled all this way to Edinburgh, even if he was free?

The answer struck him hard—Juliette Andrews. The earl had been in love with her long ago and had been furious when Paul Fraser had won her heart instead. This was about vengeance, Jonah didn’t doubt. Strathland would want to kill Fraser and steal Juliette for himself.

God help them both.

There was no child. Margaret was sure of it now.

Her eyes blurred, and she didn’t understand why it upset her so badly. Perhaps it was worry over Cain’s absence. That, and the letters her sisters had sent. Juliette and Victoria had written of their thankfulness that she was safe, and both had mentioned amusing stories about their children.

Margaret was the second-born daughter, and she was already twenty-five. Though she knew of women who had borne children at that age, most were having a fourth or a fifth child. Whereas she didn’t even know if she was capable of having one.

She swiped at her tears, knowing it was ridiculous. Without a marriage, any child would be illegitimate. It was something to be ashamed of, not a reason to rejoice. Why, then, had it upset her so badly? A part of her had prayed that her courses would be late, for she did want children.

Her sister’s letter rested beneath her fingers, and she eyed a sketch Victoria had sent, of a new corset design. It was similar to the ones they had already created, but Margaret began drawing her own changes. All the while, she mulled over Cain’s suggestion, that they should resurrect the business and continue selling the undergarments.

For so long, she had resisted the idea of designing and selling sensual corsets and chemises. But now, she was beginning to reconsider. If she took full ownership of the business, it gave her a purpose. And that was what she needed most to move forward in her life.

She continued to draw adjustments to the sketch, and this time, she fashioned the corset into a design where a lady could dress herself.

Her cheeks warmed, but it occurred to her that a woman who indulged in a secret tryst might require unmentionables that she could fasten on her own. It might also allow wealthy merchants’ wives or even middle-class women to buy Aphrodite’s Unmentionables. They could afford them if they were made of linen, but perhaps fashioned in a more sensual design.

Margaret sketched out a few more ideas to send back to Victoria. Wouldn’t that shock her sister, if she took command of the business? It was a possibility, though she was less certain about Cain making the deliveries. If he was constantly traveling, he wouldn’t have a true home or a life with her. It was a troubling thought.

Amelia’s letter rested upon her desk, and she tore it open. Her sister had written of her difficulties adjusting to the earl’s household and of her stepdaughter’s loathing.

Christine unfortunately believes that I am a horrid stepmother who intends to lock her away
, Amelia had written.
And though David has been a wonderful husband, there are days when I wish I could lock myself away.

Margaret understood that feeling, especially now. Her family had forbidden her to pay any calls upon the crofters or to leave the house in any way. She’d overheard whispered discussions about what they should do about her. It seemed that she had now become a problem to be solved.

Hardly.

She straightened in her chair, feeling a twinge of resentment. It wasn’t as if she were an innocent girl of eighteen. No, she’d been placed upon the marital shelf years ago. Though it might indeed bring scandal upon her family, she hardly cared what they thought anymore.

The last letter was written in an unfamiliar script. It looked as if it had been scrawled by a child, and she wondered if Victoria’s son had written it. But when she opened it, there were only three words.

Wait for me.

She closed her eyes, knowing Cain had sent it. It was a promise that he
would
return. No matter what happened with his brother, he would come back for her. It gave her hope, filling up the emptiness within her.

A knock sounded at the door, and her mother opened it without waiting for a reply. “Margaret, darling? I’ve a surprise for you.” Beatrice opened the door wider to reveal Victoria standing there. “Look who has come to visit us.”

Joy filled her heart, and she found herself crushed in her sister’s arms a moment later. Whether Toria was crying or whether it was her own tears, Margaret couldn’t know. But it made her loneliness so much more bearable.

“Your letter just came this morning. How is it possible that you’re here so fast?” Margaret asked.

“Jonathan and I had planned to visit Eiloch Hill anyhow, and I wrote back the moment I got Mother’s letter.” Her sister took her hand and started to lead her from the room. “We should go for a walk, and you can tell me all that’s happened.”

The weather was fine this morning, the sunlight gleaming over the hills while white puffy clouds floated overhead. “I know what it’s like to be trapped inside the house,” her sister admitted, after they stepped outside the doors. “It’s like a prison.”