Page 62 of Deception and Desire
Less than an hour later, he stood at Mrs. Douglas’s front door. He held a bottle of aged scotch in one hand and rapped the knocker with the other. A thumping tail echoed the tattoo at the door. Fenella greeted them, a bright smile curving her pink lips. She squatted down and took Brownie’s face between her hands and rubbed the dog’s jaws.
Lachlan watched her, the sun-kissed locks swept up on the top of her crown and falling against a delicate neck. From above, he glimpsed the creamy mounds straining against the bodice as she leaned toward the deerhound. A pinkish-purple gown brought out the pink of her cheeks, and short puffy sleeves exposed the alabaster skin of her slender arms. His mouth went dry. Would his reaction to her ever dim? He hoped not.
“I’m no’ sure if I should be offended or impressed that ye welcome my hound before me,” he said as he held up the scotch. “And I came bearing a gift.”
Fenella laughed. “Perhaps she’s more appreciative.”
“Weel, I’ll have to change yer mind on that later on tonight.”
They moved inside the house, and he could hear Mrs. Douglas’s voice in the parlor.
“Ye look lovely in that dress,” he whispered in her ear before they entered the room. “The color becomes ye.”
“It’s called puce, and thank you.” She smiled up at him and took his arm. “Grandmama, Lachlan and his guardian have arrived.”
“Ah, welcome,” answered Mrs. Douglas. “I see ye brought a wee something for us? That was kind of ye, lad.”
“It’s to show my gratitude for the nightly meals, ma’am.” He turned to Rose. “I hope all is well with ye?”
“The same as last night,” she replied with a smirk. “Not much has happened since then. And you?”
“I received news from Manchester today.” He sat beside Fenella on the settee. “He wants to purchase a dozen of the power looms. Says they’re better than the ones we presently have.”
“That’s wonderful. Will they be coming home soon?” asked Rose, her dark eyes bright.
Lachlan knew she had Colin on her mind. “They’ll be making arrangements for payment and shipment on the seventeenth. Today as it happens. By now, Ian will have met with the solicitor. Colin was being instructed on the machinery. We should expect them by the end of next week, though the looms will take longer to arrive.”
“I’m happy the visit was successful, but happier to hear they aren’t waiting for the looms.” Rose beamed. “Will Ian stay long after they return?”
Lachlan shook his head. “He’ll be anxious to be on his way.”
Fenella poked his arm. “I demand a rematch tonight on Spillikins. You only won because you kicked me under the table and distracted me.”
“Nay, I’d never stoop to such tricks. It’s no’ my fault ye’ve an unsteady grip, and the sticks went flying.” He covered one side of his mouth with a hand, whispering loudly, “Does she always resort to such behavior when she loses?”
Mrs. Douglas nodded. “She’s quite competitive. Comes from my side, ye ken.”
*
He did losethe game but to Rose, not Fenella. After admitting defeat gracefully, Lachlan asked if anyone would like to take a walk around the garden. It had become an after-dinner ritual, and as usual, both Mrs. Douglas and Rose declined. He bade Brownie stay as they left the house.
They walked along the small border of the garden, passing the plot of herbs and the strong smell of sage. He stopped at the bench by the honeysuckle bushes and drew her into his arms. The moon shone white against her skin, her blonde hair gleaming. Lachlan rubbed a silky lock between his fingers, longing to send the hairpins flying and sink his fingers into the soft waves. Instead, he slanted his mouth over hers and cradled her nape in his palm. Her lips were soft and pliant, her tongue tasting of sweet raisins and orange. When her fingers weaved through his hair, her body pushing against his growing manhood. A moan of pleasure rumbled low in his throat. He pulled away from her, his forehead leaning against hers.
“Do ye ken what ye do to me, Fenella?”
She shook her head. “I only know when I’m with you, my body comes alive. I-I…”
“It’s called desire, my sweet.” He stroked her arms with his knuckles, goosebumps rising on her flesh. “There’s so much I long to teach ye.”
When her eyes caught his, silver and flashing like a clear loch on bright night, he saw his love reflected there—and realized how vulnerable she was. This beautiful woman had been hurt, convinced by some ridiculous society standard that she was lacking, yet had the courage to trust him with her most valuable possession. Her heart. The words had never been spoken, but he saw it each time she met his gaze.
“Teach me, Lachlan. Teach me what my body is trying to tell me.”
“I shall give ye a lesson each time we’re together.” He murmured in her ear. “Though I admit, it’s hard enough now controlling my urges when ye’re body is pressed against mine. But if ye insist…”
With a nod, she draped her arms around his neck again. “I’m ready.”
He scooped her into his arms, sat down on the bench, and settled her on his lap. “Desire is like building a fire. It needs to be set carefully, stoked from a wee spark”—he kissed a corner of her mouth—“to a small flame.” He kissed the other corner. “Ye need to fan it, and feed the heat, ye ken.” His mouth brushed hers, once, twice, his tongue caressing the seam of her lips.
