Page 48 of Deception and Desire
“Truly.”
“My da always told me that when it comes to love, ye either surrender or suffer.” Colin shoulders slumped slightly, his body relaxing as they talked. He took in a deep breath. “I’m no’ the suffering type, I’ve decided. Ye’re right, it’s been long enough, and if a woman can set my blood boiling like Rose did today… weel, I may as well surrender to it and see where fate leads me.”
“Wise man,” agreed Lachlan.
“And what shall ye do about yer own predicament?”
“Asmyma always says, when ye want something, go fetch it yerself. If ye wait too long, there’s a chance it will lose its way. I canna let Miss Fenella Franklin stumble across another path.”
Chapter Thirteen
The Clarity of a Kiss
June 1819
Lachlan strode intothe office, whistling a jaunty tune. Fenella looked up, a smile on her face that reflected in her welcoming eyes. “Did I thank ye for an excellent time yesterday?”
“Several times.” She laughed. “Grandmama sent you and Colin some scones in appreciation. I don’t think she’s been so happy since my grandfather died.”
“And what about her granddaughter?”
“I think I’m becoming quite fond of… Glasgow,” she said with an impish grin.
“Happy to hear it.” He backed toward the door. “I’ll be back later for that scone.”
As he took the stairs, he could hear the faint sound of humming. His heart tightened a bit at the sound, knowing it echoed her pleasure. He’d been surprised that making a woman glad could bring him such joy. But as his regard for her grew, Lachlan’s self-control waned. He wanted to kiss the woman. Kiss her senseless. He hardened at the thought.Sweet Mary, how she affected him.
He and Colin now looked forward to Sundays for the company rather than a time to rest and drink. If the sky was clear, they rode out to the country or went to the Green. Dinner would be served at Mrs. Douglas’s house. If rain kept them inside, an afternoon of music or games occupied them. Yesterday, they had picnicked along the Clyde outside of town. Rose and Colin had wandered away from the group and caught a few fish, returning in time for several songs. MacGregor had warmed up to the MacNaughtons and brought along his fiddle.
This week, Lachlan wanted to take an afternoon off and spend an hour alone with Fenella. Time seemed to slip away, and soon July—and Ian—would arrive. Never had he been reluctant to return home. He missed his family and longed for his canine companion, Brownie. But to leave Fenella left an emptiness in his gut. He needed to hear her say she would miss him; she would be waiting for him when he returned in August.
And a few well-planned kisses wouldn’t hurt his cause. A smile curled his lips.
“What?” demanded Colin. “I dinna like that smile.”
“Do I care what ye like?”
“Ah, ye’re thinking of Fenella.”
Lachlan scowled. “Such a wizard, my cousin. Thinks he can read my mind.”
“Och, the last place I’d want to be is inyerhead.” Colin grabbed him around the neck and rubbed the top of his head. “Probably full of porridge or pickled by good scotch.”
“It’s the cheap whiskey that pickles the brain, not the good stuff.” Lachlan shrugged. “But ye’re right, she’s on my mind.”
“Have ye told her how ye feel?”
He shook his head. “I’m thinking of taking her to the Green one day this week. Maybe quitting a wee early on Wednesday. I want to let her ken my intentions of serious courting when I return in August.”
Colin nodded. “I figured as much. I’d wager ye need no’ worry on that account, though. She’s just as taken with ye, according to Rose. Her eyes follow ye like a cat on a mouse.”
Lachlan grinned. “That puts a bonnie picture in my head.”
The remainder of the morning was spent unloading cargo and haggling with an old client. He got a better price for an incoming load of flax. There had been a frost in May, ruining some of the crop. The growers were anticipating higher prices when they harvested next month. Lachlan had bargained for a more reasonable increase with guarantees of larger purchases the following year. His stomach growled, letting him know it was time to meet Fenella.
He took the steps two at a time. With a tug on his waistcoat and a quick swipe through his hair, he cleared his throat and knocked at the open door. She glanced up, her face brightening. Her pale golden hair was pulled into the usual tight chignon, and her work dress hid the graceful slender curves he’d glimpsed through the thin muslin on Sundays.
“It must be time to eat. I swear I just got here.” Fenella closed the ledger and reached for her satchel. She pulled out a lump of brown paper, unwrapped it, and pulled out the rounded baked pies filled with ground mutton and spices.
