Marrying the Marquis (22 page)

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Authors: Patricia Grasso

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Marrying the Marquis
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Kyra clapped her hands together. So did her father.

“Would ye fetch water for Mama Blaze if she needed it?” Ross asked his daughter.

Kyra considered his question. “We’ll send Ina.”

Later, Ross and Blaze delivered Kyra to her nannies. Blaze told the story of the princess and the pea. Then husband and wife sought their own chamber.

“I apologize for keepin’ Kyra a secret,” Ross said. “I should have told ye aboot her.”

Blaze looked at him and considered what advice her stepmother would give her. She would be married to her husband for a long, long time. Passing the next forty years arguing was not an appealing thought.

Her stepmother would tell her that most men ignored what was unpleasant until it bit them. Her husband had delayed telling her about his daughter until he could not ignore it any longer. She supposed her husband was a normal man.

“We’ll start fresh in the morning,” Blaze said.

“D’ye think we could start fresh tonight?”

She gave him a flirtatious smile. “I might be persuaded.”

“Sit on the bed, darlin’. I’ve a gift for ye.” Ross rummaged in his satchel and produced a rectangular leather case. “Open it.”

Blaze lifted the box’s lid. On a bed of black velvet lay a link belt. Created in diamonds and gold, the links formed butterflies.

“I’ve never seen a belt like this,” Blaze said, lifting her gaze to his. “I thank you.”

“I told the designer ye were an Original and cherished yer mother’s butterfly jewels,” Ross told her. “She created this piece specially for ye.”

“The belt must have cost a small fortune.”

“It cost a large fortune.” Ross winked at her. “I figured I’ll be savin’ a mountain of money through the years by not buyin’ furs to match yer gowns.”

“Hand me my bag.” Blaze reached into her satchel, produced a small leather case, and passed it to him.

Ross sat beside her and lifted the box’s lid. Inside lay gold cufflinks shaped like a horse’s head. The eyes were rubies and its collar diamond-studded.

“I canna wait to wear them.” Ross kissed her cheek.

“I told the designer you loved horses,” Blaze said, “and she created them specially for you.”

“Let’s go to bed.”

They stood and faced each other. Blaze pointed to her gown’s buttons. Ross obliged her with a kiss and wrapping his arms around her body to unfasten her gown.

Holding her gaze captive, Ross pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Blaze giggled and let her gown drop to the floor, pooling at her feet.

He responded by dropping his trousers and kicking them aside. She answered him by sliding the straps of her chemise off her shoulders, letting the silk and lace garment flutter down to cover her gown, leaving her clad only in stockings and garters.

“You’re drooling,” she whispered.

Lifting the diamond butterfly belt off the bed, Ross wrapped it around her naked waist. “Ye look like a goddess.”

By unspoken agreement, they stepped closer. Her softness teased the hard muscular planes of his body. Ross kissed her as if he’d never let her go, pouring his desire into that soul-stealing kiss, They stood as one, the candlelight casting a single shadow on the wall.

Scooping her into his arms, Ross gently placed her on the bed. He gazed at her hauntingly lovely face to her swollen breasts and dusky nipples. Lower his gaze traveled to her slightly rounded belly, proof that his seed grew inside her.

She held her arms out to him, but he dropped to his knees on the floor. Cupping her buttocks to hold her steady, he slashed his tongue into the moist crease between her thighs.

Blaze cried out and melted against him. Waves of pleasure surged through her body, carrying her to carnal paradise.

Ross stood and set her on the edge of the bed. Positioning himself between her thighs, he plunged deep inside her.

Slowly, Ross withdrew and then eased forward again and again and again. Rekindling her desire, he thrust deep and grinded himself against her heat.

With mingling cries, they exploded together and then floated back to earth from their shared paradise. He fell to the side, taking her with him, and cradled her against his body.

Husband and wife enjoyed the sleep of the sated.

 

Blaze breezed into the dining room the next morning. She’d expected to breakfast alone but found her husband and daughter there.

“We tried to wait for ye,” Ross said, “but Kyra got hungry.”

“You didn’t need to wait.” Blaze looked over the morning fare.

The barley bannocks appeared griddled to perfection, light and greaseless. The scones and butter looked delicious as did her stepdaughter’s oatmeal porridge. She could live without her husband’s fried sausage, though.

Ina walked into the dining room and set a mug beside her plate. “Drinkin’ Old Man’s Milk every mornin’ will be good for the babe.”

Blaze glanced at her husband. “What is it?”

“Ye beat an egg into milk,” Ross answered, “sweeten the mixture with sugar, and zest it with a drop of whisky.”

In spite of disliking spirits, Blaze did not want to appear churlish. A drop of whisky would not kill her.

Blaze sipped the drink, smiled at her husband, and took another swig. “I like it,” she said. “Put a couple of bannocks on my plate.”

“Yer showin’ yer Highland blood at last,” Ross teased her. “I was beginnin’ to think livin’ in England had squelched it out of ye.”

“Kyra and I want to go picnicking today,” Blaze said, “and we need an escort.”

“I was hopin’ to take ye doup-dippin’.”

“What’s that?”

Ross grinned, his black eyes gleaming. “Swimmin’ naked.”

Blaze blushed like a virgin. “I never learned to swim.”

“Doup-dippin’ doesna require swimmin’,” he said.

“Save your doup-dippin’ for the tub,” Blaze said. “Kyra and I prefer a picnic lunch.”

The June day was a Highland rarity. The breeze was a gentle caress. A brilliant sun rode high in a clear blue sky. No clouds marred the day’s perfection, and the air smelled clean.

Ross bundled them into the coach. Blaze held Kyra on her lap, and Puddles sat beside them for the ride a few miles along the loch’s shoreline.

“Awe is the longest loch in the Highlands,” he told them, “but it’s also mostly shallow.”

“Where’s Inverary Castle?” Blaze asked.

“Ye climb up to the moors, walk through the forest to the valley of Glen Array,” Ross answered. “Then ye walk down the other side of the mountain.”

Ross halted the carriage when Kilchurn House was out of sight. “The loch is shallow here,” he said, “so we can wade if we want.”

Blaze spread the blanket while Ross carried the food basket. Kyra giggled watching Puddles dashing around like a newly-freed felon.

Dropping on the blanket, Ross pulled his boots off and rolled the legs of his trousers up. Blaze removed her ankle boots and hose and then walked around on the grass.

“Tell Papa to take your shoes off,” Blaze called to Kyra, “and let the grass tickle your feet.”

When tickling their feet grew stale, Blaze and Kyra sat with Ross on the blanket. “Did ye know Loch Awe has a monster?”

Blaze smiled at that. The little girl inched closer to her father.

“The MacArthurs call the monster the Big Beast of Loch Awe,” Ross told them. “The Big Beast is a great eel with twelve legs and slithers in the loch’s deepest waters.”

“Have you seen the Big Beast?” Blaze asked him.

“I’ve never had the pleasure,” Ross answered, “but Donal has seen the beast. Ask him if ye dinna believe me.”

The three wandered to the water’s edge. Ross skimmed a stone across the sparkling water. “I havena done that in years,” he said with a smile. “I’d wager our fathers stood together on this spot and skimmed stones across the loch.”

“Considering their ages,” Blaze said, “that must have happened in ancient times.”

“I’d like to teach my girls to swim,” Ross said.

“Who’s yer girls, Papa?”

“Yer my little girl,” Ross answered, “and Blaze is my big girl.”

“Jeez, this is fun,” Kyra said.

Blaze covered her mouth to keep from laughing. She shook her head at her husband, warning him not to laugh.

“I’ll show ye how to tickle a fish.” Ross waded into the loch’s shallows.

“Ye must be quiet and still,” he told them. “Ye bend over, slowly placin’ yer hand in the water, and wait. Fish are curious creatures and will swim closer to investigate ye. Gently tickle his underside with a finger. When he’s paralyzed with pleasure, flip him onto the shore.”

“What happens then?” Blaze asked.

“Ye cook him up and eat him.” Ross smiled at them. “It’s great fun.”

“I’d wager the fish isn’t laughing.” Blaze looked down at her stepdaughter. “Do you want to tickle a fish?”

Kyra wrinkled her nose and shook her head. She inched closer lest her father insist on her trying.

“Ye girls arena any fun.”

“Only a barbarian would consider killing and eating an animal great fun,” Blaze said.

Ross leaned down and splashed water at them. Blaze and Kyra laughed and ran toward the blanket.

“Let’s splash your papa,” Blaze whispered in the girl’s ear.

Hand in hand, Kyra and Blaze ran back to the water’s edge and splashed water at him. Ross splashed back, and Puddles joined them, barking and running in and out of the water.

“Enough.” Ross walked toward them.

“Tell him to say uncle,” Blaze whispered.

Kyra pointed a finger at her father. “Say uncle.”

“Uncle.” Ross threw his hands up in surrender and walked out of the water. “I’m goin’ to teach ye swimmin’ so ye’ll need to undress.”

“Someone will see us,” Blaze said.

“Yer in the Highlands,” Ross said, gesturing to the mountains and the loch. “We’ve more sheep than people. Besides, yer safe from pryin’ eyes on MacArthur land.”

Ross unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on the blanket. He tossed his trousers aside next, leaving him standing in black silk underwear.

Blaze helped Kyra undress, leaving the girl standing in her chemise. Then she dropped her gown and, like her stepdaughter, wore only her chemise.

“Who wants to learn first?” Ross asked them.

“Her.” Blaze and Kyra pointed at each other.

Ross laughed. “Kyra, fetch me a stick over there.” When she returned, he said, “Watch, Puddles.”

“Fetch it.” Ross tossed the stick into the loch and the mastiff gave chase. Puddles swam to the stick and carried it in his mouth to shore.

“I’m goin’ to teach ye the doggie paddle,” Ross said. “Mama Blaze goes first.”

When she waded into the loch, Ross led her out until the water reached her waist. Taking her hands in his, he said, “Let yer legs float behind ye off the loch’s bottom. That’s right. Now kick yer feet.”

For a few minutes, Ross pulled Blaze back and forth in the water while she kicked her feet. Then, “I’ll hold ye beneath yer belly while ye kick yer legs and paddle yer arms like Puddles.”

Ross demonstrated the paddle for her. Then, with his hands under her belly, Blaze kicked her feet and paddled like a dog. She glided back and forth in the water and never noticed when his hands dropped away.

“I was swimming,” she exclaimed.

“Come, Kyra,” Ross called. He gave his daughter the same lesson, kicking her feet first and then paddling like a dog.

“Look, Mama,” Kyra called. “I’m swimmin’.”

Watching from the shoreline, Blaze applauded her stepdaughter’s accomplishment. “Who wants to dry off and play pretend?” she asked.

“I do,” Kyra called.

The three returned to the blanket. Ross turned his back, dropped his drawers, and pulled his trousers on while Blaze removed the girl’s chemise and dressed her in the gown again. Then Blaze turned her back, dropped her chemise, and donned her gown.

“Listen, Kyra,” Blaze said, crouching to eye-level with the girl. “Ye must never swim unless your papa is with you.”

“Spoken like a true mother,” Ross said, smiling. “Ye’ll probably be worryin’ for the next twenty years or so.”

“Mothers worry about their children, no matter their ages.” Blaze looked at her stepdaughter. “Shall we play pretend?”

The girl’s dark eyes, so much like her father’s, gleamed with the day’s excitement. Blaze felt an insistent tugging on her heartstrings. She’d wager her last penny that her husband had never taken the time to play with his own daughter.

“Let’s pretend we’re dancing with handsome gentlemen at a grand ball.” Blaze looked at her husband. “We’ll need your help with this.”

“Stand on top of your father’s feet,” Blaze instructed Kyra. “Papa, you hold her like you are waltzing. I’ll hum a tune.”

“Who will ye dance with?” Kyra asked her.

“Lord Puddles,” Blaze said, enticing giggles from the girl. “Puddles, up.” The mastiff leaped up, placing his front paws on her shoulders, and balanced himself on his hind legs.

Blaze began humming a waltz. Holding his daughter on top of his feet, Ross waltzed her around on the grass. Puddles and Blaze swayed back and forth where they stood.

At the dance’s end, Ross lifted his daughter into his arms and gave her cheek a smacking kiss. “I thank ye for the dance, Lady Kyra.”

Two hours later, Ross packed the carriage. They had lunched on bread, cheese, cinnamon cookies, and lemon barley water. Afterwards, Blaze and Kyra rested on the blanket while Ross tossed stones into the loch, enticing Puddles to give chase.

A groom appeared when Ross halted the carriage in front of Kilchurn House. Puddles leaped down first and dashed for the door where Donal stood. Ross lifted his daughter down and then assisted Blaze.

“What’s this?” Ross asked when they entered the foyer.

Blaze followed her husband’s gaze. Several traveling bags had been set on one side of the foyer.

“Ye’ve a houseguest,” Donal said, “sippin’ yer father’s vintage whisky in the dinin’ room.”

A silver-haired woman walked down the hallway to the foyer. Though advanced in age, the woman carried few wrinkles on her face, and her blue eyes gleamed with genuine pleasure.

“I’d recognize ye anywhere,” the woman said, walking toward Blaze. She placed the palm of her hand on her cheek. “Yer lovelier than I ever was at yer age. Most likely, the babe yer carryin’ gives ye more glow.”

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