The Highlander's Choice (12 page)

“But I had the usual scrapes with my cousins. We got into enough trouble to turn my da’s hair white. There used to be many more MacBrides living at Bedlay Castle, but with times so hard, more than a few of my cousins left for America. Those that did stay live in crofters cottages and farm the land, grateful they haven’t been tossed off.”

“Ah, the Clearances.”

“Aye. A bad time.” He held out a piece of cheese that Sybil took and popped into her mouth. “’Tis the reason my mum does not favor the English.”

“But it was so long ago.”

“Resentment of the English runs deep.”

After eating, Liam also removed his shoes and joined her in the brook. They did enough splashing that they were both soaked by the time they left the water and lay down on the soft grass to dry in the warm sun.

“My sister-in-law would love this place,” Sybil said, glancing around at the bounty of florae.

“She is a flower lover?”

“Penelope is a botanist. My brother follows her around carrying her supplies when she does her work because she is a bit on the clumsy side.”

“Yer brother, the duke? Ah, yes. I believe ye mentioned that.”

Sybil turned to him. “I told you my family is different.”

“Aye. Different.”

Rolling to his side, he pulled Sybil close until her soft breasts pressed against his chest. He brushed the damp strands back from her face and stared into her eyes. “Ye are so beautiful, lass, ye take my breath away.”

Her lips parted, and he covered her mouth with his. His hand slid down, cupping her bottom, massaging the tight muscles, pushing her lower parts against his. Sybil sighed softly into his mouth, and he swept his tongue in, tasting the honey nectar, sucking gently.

The breeches she wore had been driving him
baurmie
all morning, wreaking havoc with his senses. He eased his hand up and cupped her breast, drawing a slight moan. The lass kissed with enthusiasm, but was obviously an innocent. ’Twas fine with him. He wanted to be the man to teach her all the wonders of the marriage bed. Something he hoped to do soon.

He worked the buttons on her shirt and slid his hand inside. The feel of her silky warm skin on his fingers drove him over the edge. But a voice in the back of his head reminded him he was outdoors, and when he took Sybil for the first time, it would not be where they were liable to scare the animals.

Reluctantly, he pulled back and stared at her. “Faith, lass. We need to stop before I lose all my sense and strip ye naked right here.”

She blushed prettily and quickly buttoned her shirt. Rolling away from him, she hopped up and swept the grass clinging to her breeches. “You are right. What were we thinking?” Her voice sounded as though she had just run a race.

Liam gave himself time to recover from the lust that had raged through his body only moments before, then stood and helped her gather up the remains of their picnic. He truly didn’t want to rush the lass, but if she didn’t say yes to his proposal soon, his brain would likely wither from lack of blood.

Chapter Twelve

Dinner was a reserved affair. Lady MacBride ate quietly, merely nodding or grunting when asked a question. Eventually, the group at the head table fell silent and concentrated on their food.

Sybil used the time to dwell on her feelings for Liam and the proposal that still hung over her head. She peeked at him under her eyelashes. Goodness, the man gave her shivers. Why she’d ever thought Liam a barbarian amused her. Even in his Highland garb he’d worn for Duncan’s wedding he could only be called impressive. Dressed in shiny Hessian boots, snug fawn breeches, dark blue waistcoat and jacket, and fashionably tied cravat, he could pass for any English gentleman. But his shoulder length hair, pulled back and tied with a ribbon did not meet with the current English style.

Her mind wandered back to the kisses they’d shared on the picnic earlier. Somehow, she couldn’t regret the liberties she’d allowed him. It didn’t seem wrong, and he certainly kissed her in a way that made it all seem very, very right. She looked up to find him slouching in his chair, his deep green eyes watching her carefully over the rim of his glass as he sipped. She shivered and somehow knew he was aware of where her thoughts were. Unbidden, a slow heat started in her stomach and moved to her face. He grinned. She wanted to kick him, but he was too far away.

The family once again retired to the library for tea and after the cups had been cleared away, Lady MacBride stood and announced to no one in particular, “I am feeling verra tired, and will retire to my chambers.” With that, she turned and swept from the room.

Liam’s lips tightened, and he moved to stand, the intention to go after her evident on his face. Sybil put her hand on his arm. “I think mayhap I will find a book we can both enjoy and read aloud.”

There was no point in trying to make Lady MacBride like her. Liam’s mother was determined to display her contempt for all things English, no matter what Sybil did or said. Unfortunately, she had to take the woman’s attitude toward her into consideration when she made her decision about Liam’s marriage proposal. She would need to live here for the rest of her life. Could she do that with a woman who disliked her so much?

Catriona, Alanna, Liam, and Sybil remained in the library. The two girls played a game of chess while she and Liam browsed the shelves and settled in with a book. Despite being engrossed in their game, the girls would make a comment once in a while, which told Sybil they were following her reading of Miss Austen’s
Mansfield Park
. It was a very cozy domestic scene and one that Sybil knew she could grow accustomed to.

She huffed. Except for the woman upstairs.

Liam’s sisters both yawned at the same time and pushed away from the chess table. Sybil was surprised to see that she’d been reading for well over an hour. Liam’s eyes were closed, his fingers linked over his middle, his head leaning against the back of the chair.

The girls whispered a good night and left the library. Sybil studied Liam for a bit, then closed the book and set it on the table next to her. She rose and smoothed her skirts, then headed to the door, only to be snatched back so quickly she stumbled and fell onto Liam’s lap.

“
Oomph
. You scared me. I thought you were asleep.”

“Ach, lass. I canna fall asleep with the sound of yer lovely voice reading from that book.” He wrapped his arms around her and sliding his hand up her back, eased her closer until he’d taken her lips in a soft kiss. His fingers stroked the skin on the back of her neck as the kiss turned into something very different. Pulling her closer, he plundered, seizing possession of her mouth like a conqueror’s spoils of war.

She attempted to hold herself stiffly, trying very hard not to succumb to the fire raging through her body at his attentions. However, she was soon draped all over him like a harlot. The heat from their two bodies seared her. Reaching behind him, she undid the ribbon, allowing his hair to cascade forward. So captivated by its silkiness, she ran her fingers through it, fisting the strands as he continued the assault on her mouth.

Liam soon had the pins from her hair scattered on the floor in front of them, and the back of her gown opened. When the bodice slipped from her shoulders, she grabbed it and pulled back. “We can’t do this here. I must leave.”

Without a word, he stood and placed her on her feet. She stumbled and clutched the back of the chair as he strode to the door and fastened the latch. Turning, he leaned against the door, his arms crossed over his massive chest, his heavy lidded eyes watching her intently. “Are ye sure you want to leave, lass?”

Every sensible nerve in her body screamed
yes
. But her mouth suddenly dried up and her heart began to race as he shoved himself away from the door and moved toward her like a graceful animal stalking its prey. His eyes hunted her, and she could see the tension in his body as he grew closer.

He shed his jacket and waistcoat as he walked, tossing them on a chair. His eyes never leaving hers, he tugged at his cravat; it unfurled and landed on the floor. She stared at it, mesmerized.

“I can make good use of that for even more pleasure,
mo cridhe,
my love. But not yet.” He reached her and tilted her chin up with his knuckle.

“I don’t understand,” her voice came out raspy.

“Of course ye don’t, lass. ’Tis my privilege to teach ye the ways of lovemaking.” He spun her around and tugged her hands away from her gown so the bodice fell to her waist. Within seconds, the entire garment slid to a puddle at her feet. Liam pulled her back to his chest and reached around to cup her breasts as he nuzzled her neck, whispering words in Gaelic she didn’t understand, but still made her blood simmer.

Sybil glanced up at their reflection in the window in front of them. The firelight and oil lamps in the room highlighted their bodies, outlining Liam’s hands as he eased her breasts from her stays, massaging the mounds, tweaking her nipples. The sight mesmerized her. Her hair fell in waves against her shoulders to her waist, mixing with Liam’s hair as he continued his onslaught.

She moaned, and if he hadn’t been holding her up, she would have slipped to the floor. The sensations were beyond anything she’d ever felt before in her life. Her heated body wanted the restrictions of the remaining clothes gone. That thought should have shamed her, but instead the idea of being naked in Liam’s arms thrilled her.

Almost as if he’d read her very thoughts, he loosened her stays and removed them, leaving her in her shift, drawers, stockings, and shoes. “Ach, lass. Ye are so warm and soft. I want ye so much I find it hard to breathe.” He moved his warm mouth to the sensitive skin under her ear. Instinctively, she pushed her bottom back against his hard muscled thighs. Heavens, what was happening to her? He had turned her into a strumpet.

Sybil leaned her head against his hard chest and looked up at him. Liam’s eyes shuttered as his head descended and his mouth covered hers, forcing her lips apart. He swept in, tasting every part of her mouth, the pungent scent of brandy on his breath. Their tongues tangled in the dance of lovers before he wrenched his lips free. Making quick work of her shift, he tossed it over his shoulder before going down on one knee, taking her drawers with him. His hands slid up her body as he stood. “Open yer eyes, lass. Look at the beauty ye are.”

She stared, fascinated at the scene reflected in the window. She stood in just her stockings and shoes, with Liam behind her, watching her in the window as well, his hands stroking, caressing, and massaging her naked skin. A fire like none she had ever felt before raged within her. The area between her legs grew heavy and moist, with a need to press that part of her body against something.

He turned her in his arms and lifted, reclaiming her lips. She automatically wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing her dampening center to his warmth. Without loosening his hold on her mouth, he strode to the fireplace where he gently settled her on the soft carpet. He stretched out alongside her, running his palm over her curves as she faced him.

As his eyes met hers, she rested her palm against his cheek. “I’m afraid.”

“Ach, lass. Dinna fash yerself. I will never hurt ye.”

She shook her head. “No. I know you won’t hurt me. I’m afraid of what this means if we continue.”

“’Tis simple, darlin’, and something we both kenned would happen. I want ye for my wife. I want to bed ye every night for the rest of our lives, see yer wee body swell with my bairn.”

“But I’m still not sure,” she whispered. This was a serious step and the commitment she would be making by allowing it to continue needed consideration. But her thinking was muddled, all she could see was the man who made her insides melt, and all she could think about was how much she wanted to experience what came next.

An inner voice warned they weren’t even in a private place. Suppose someone walked in on them? Before she could push him away, he said, “Let me convince ye.” He leaned over her on his elbow and caressed her skin, watching her with half lidded eyes.

“By the saints, lass, ye are beautiful.” He brushed the silky strands of her hair away from her shoulder and took her breast in his mouth, suckling like a babe. His hand wandered down her body, over her slight belly to rest on her most private place. She inhaled sharply at how much she wanted him to continue, to caress her in that spot. As if he’d heard her unspoken plea, his fingertip eased into her body, circling her flesh, toying with the moisture that had gathered there.

“Ach, ’tis ready for me ye are,” he murmured, with male satisfaction in his voice.

The need to see his skin, to run her palms over it, beckoned her. She unfastened his shirt and felt the smooth surface coated with curly hairs that she tugged on. Liam sat up and pulled his shirt over his head and flung it over his shoulders. His chest in the firelight, dusted with ginger colored hair, all golden skin and beautiful man, rivaled any statue she’d seen in the Royal Academy of Art. His rippling muscles drew her, her hands itching to stroke his warmth.

“You are beautiful as well.” She brought her lips to his flat nipple and licked, grinning when he shivered. She loved provoking that reaction from such a powerful man. Once more he eased down and drew her close, turning her so they rested chest to chest. She closed her eyes at the sensation of her bare skin touching his.

The scent of musk from his soap, along with leather and Liam, drifted between them where their bodies met. As he continued his assault on her senses, she became restless, unable to stay still. Something teased her, tortured her, made her long for she knew not what.

“Liam,” she whispered, pulling away from his kiss.

“What, darlin’?” His deep voice added to her disquiet.

She squirmed. “I’m not sure. I feel very strange, like I’m missing something.” Her voice sounded odd to her ears, raspy.

“Ach, lass. ’Tis yer woman’s pleasure yer seeking.” He brushed her damp hair from her forehead. “Let me help ye along.” His fingers once again found the warm wet spot between her legs. She relaxed her thighs, spreading them further, then drew in a sharp breath and jerked as he began his circling motion once again. “Just relax,
mo cridhe
, and it will come to ye.” His warm breath in her ear tickled, brought shivers to her skin.

His ministrations didn’t take long before her lower muscles tightened, and intense waves of pleasure washed over her. All sense of time and place fled as she arched her back and pressed the throbbing spot between her legs against his strong palm, drawing out the sensation. She must have voiced the moan she heard because Liam took her lips in a kiss, extending the feelings by sweeping his tongue into her mouth.

Her lips were dry from the rapid breaths she needed to keep air in her lungs. She felt as though she’d run several miles. But before she could recover, Liam slid his boots and breeches off and settled himself between her splayed legs. He covered her body so they lay face to face, his upper body braced on his elbows.

She touched the beard roughened skin on his face as she felt something nudge her where his fingers had just been.

“Darlin’ I would rather cut off my arm than hurt ye, but this canna be helped.” He shoved his hips forward and a sharp pain replaced the enjoyment of a few minutes ago. Her eyes grew wide and tears formed that Liam kissed and sipped from her eyes. “Hold still for a minute, lass, and I promise yer pain will ease, and ye will feel only pleasure.”

She fisted his hair, resting her elbows on his broad shoulders as the pain began to subside, replaced with a sense of fullness that was odd, different. He began to move in her, sliding in and out. Again she felt the build-up of pressure inside her, not as intense as before, but more satisfying.

Their bodies slid against each other, slippery from sweat. Liam rested on his forearms and cupped her head, kissing her face, cheeks, eyelids, nose, mouth—anywhere his lips could reach. He nuzzled her neck and mumbled soft words to her in Gaelic.

“
Mo ghraidh
,” he whispered, “’tis better than I imagined. Ye are mine now.”
After several minutes of thrusting, he stiffened and threw his head back, calling her name.

His large frame collapsed onto her, but he quickly rolled to the side, pulling her over his chest as he heaved. Sybil closed her eyes, her ear heeding the pounding of their hearts in rhythm.

She awoke shivering, Liam plastered all over her. His arms were wrapped tightly around her from the back, as if protecting her from the world. The fire had gone out and she was still naked. “Liam,” she said, shaking him. “Wake up.”

His eyes popped open, and he smiled, starting her heart beating fast again. But there was no time for this. She needed to get upstairs before they were discovered. “We must get dressed. I have no idea what time it is.” Suddenly embarrassed, she sat up and drew her legs up to cover her nakedness.