Page 67 of Deception and Desire
“Do ye believe it to be true?” he asked roughly. “That he’s in a better place than this cruel world?”
Fenella didn’t trust her voice but nodded.
“If I dinna believe that, if I canna find some comfort in all of this, I’ll surely go mad.” His eyes shone again with tears, and once again he held out his arms.
Lachlan’s ravaged face was more than she could bear. Wrapping her arms around him, she clasped his head to her chest and rocked him, murmuring words of reassurance. He clung to her, his grief different from the soundless tears of fury earlier, questioning a God who would be so callous. This time, as his body relaxed, she knew he washed his soul of the doubt and accepted his loss.
The early evening light cast shadows across the room. Alfred had brought a tray of cold repast and taken the dog to the kitchen to be fed. Lachlan had eaten little. She lay next to him, his arm around her, her chest again the soft linen of his nightshirt. A little voice whispered to her about improprieties, but she ignored it. He needed her, and she would do whatever was necessary to help him through this.
“Ye should be getting back soon,” he murmured against her hair. “I’ll be all right now. I promise.”
She looked up at him, not wanting to leave the warmth of his embrace. He bent his head and kissed her, a whisper of lips against lips. She heard his intake of breath, and then his mouth was on hers, like a man desperate and searching.
“My sweet, sweet angel, how ye soothe me,” he said against her temple, his fingers threading through her hair, stroking the nape of her neck. “I dinna want to let ye go, yet I must.”
Fenella shook her head, heart pounding. “No, you don’t. I’m here for you, Lachlan, however you need me.” She pushed up on one elbow, turning into him and touched her lips to his.
He moved over her then, a man hoping for succor as he ravaged her mouth, leaving a burning trail down her neck, across her collarbone, between the valley of her breasts. She felt his desperate need for physical solace. Again, that muted voice whispered to her. Again, she ignored it as his fingers tugged gently, almost reverently, at her bodice. His mouth suckled one then the other peak; her body arched and the voice faded. The scripture might have soothed his soul, but he needed a more corporeal bond to ease his body.
“Make me feel alive, Fenella.” His lips found hers, his touch hungry and demanding.
She gave in to the heat that raged within her core, throwing her head back as he worked her body, stroked and teased her with lips and tongue and hands. His palms kneaded her breasts, her belly; the rough pads of his fingers grazed her most sensitive spots.
“Ye’re so beautiful, my sweet angel.” His eyes, dark with passion, held hers. “So verra beautiful.”
Lachlan’s kiss was slow and deliberate, stoking the fire within her as he had that night in the garden. When he cupped her mound, tickling the tight curls, the pounding between her legs became an ache. Lifting her skirt, he skimmed the back of his hand along her inner thigh while his mouth muffled her whimpers. Her mind was consumed with new sensations, the blood roaring in her head, sweat beading her forehead. His finger, then another, dipped into her wetness; his thumb traced slow circles around her womanhood. Her back arched as his tongue swept inside her mouth, his fingers delving in and out, increasing the pressure building inside her. Fenella cried out against his lips. Her muscles clenched around his fingers. Warmth spread through her as waves of pleasure shook her body. She clung to him, nails digging into his back, her body trembling and weak.
His palm continued to caress her folds until the ripples subsided. He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her mouth. Then his arms encircled her, his chin resting on her head. “I love ye, Fenella. With all my heart and soul, I love ye.”
Her pulse slowed as she drew in deep gulps of air. She nuzzled her cheek against the soft linen and kissed his neck, her muscles heavy and languid. “I love you too, Lachlan. And I’m so sorry.”
“I need ye, like I need the air to breathe.” His embrace tightened, his voice weary. “Ye understand what I’m going through. Ye’ve lost a father, and I’ve lost a brother.” His lips brushed her hair. “Ye ken how this kind of pain grips yer soul.”
Fenella tensed, not understanding. Her mind echoed with the scene at the mill. The first time she’d met the MacNaughtons, her interview with Ian and Colin.
“Is yer father in Glasgow? He approves of ye applying for a position here?”
“He’s gone,” she said, looking at her hands folded in her lap, trying to think of what she should say. “These past few—”
“I’m sorry to hear it, Miss Franklin,” he said. “I willna pry into any more of yer business.”
When the realization hit her, Lachlan’s steady breath told her he was asleep. Her stomach churned and twisted, and she forced down the bile rising in her throat. Lachlan thought her father was dead. A misconstrued comment that now came back to haunt her. A misunderstanding that should have been cleared up long ago. But the matter had flown from her mind when Ian had left and the whirlwind named Lachlan had taken his place.
Untangling herself from his arms, she stared at his sleeping face. She had to tell him the truth. But not now, when he was dealing with this grief.
Not now, when he had just proclaimed the sweetest, tenderest words she thought she’d never hear in a lifetime.
With all my heart and soul, I love ye.
Heaven help her.
Chapter Twenty
The Long Road Home
The next day,Fenella stood outside MacNaughton Textile. The employees had gathered outside the building, waiting for Lachlan and Colin to carry Ian’s body past the mill on his final journey to the Highlands.
The wagon made its solemn progress down the thoroughfare, both men sitting in the front, backs stiff and eyes ahead. The coffin had been covered with several plaids of the MacNaughton tartan. Colin guided the vehicle in front of the mill and stopped. She saw the Scottish deerhound sitting in the bed of the wagon, her nose pushed through the bottom slat of the wagon bench, between the two men.
