Page 112 of Never a Duchess
“Just a little research for my book.” She prowled towards him, pulled back the sheets girding his waist and stared at his impressive manhood.
Dounreay grinned. “I recall yer last experiment did more than raise my temperature. But it wouldnae hurt to lie here and watch ye flex yer fingers.”
Lillian moistened her lips. “It’s not my fingers I’m hoping to flex.”
* * *
Wester Ross, Scotland
Two months later
The west wind blew Lillian’s hair across her face. It nipped her cheeks, cleansed her lungs, and sent shivers rippling to her toes. Staring out over the slate-blue waters of the Inner Sound, she could see the rolling hills of Raasay and Skye. Behind her, the Torridon Mountains acted as a breathtaking backdrop.
She loved everything about the Highlands.
The land was remote, rugged, and so beautiful she would never tire of walking the glens and absorbing the wondrous scenery. There was only one other place on earth she felt so alive, so free—when she wrapped her thighs around her husband’s hips and clung to his sweat-soaked body.
Dounreay!
She hugged her abdomen, the rush of emotion stealing her breath, bringing tears to her eyes. Never a wife. Never a duchess. She had chanted the mantras many times. Hadn’t thought to add never a mother.
Now, she was married to a duke and had missed her courses. Now, she was so blissfully happy she couldn’t stop grinning.
They had married in London by special licence, Lord Melbourne insisting Dounreay be granted one without fuss. They had exchanged vows amid a throng of Highland lords in the castle’s great hall.
The haunting notes of the piper had touched her deeply, more than any tune played on the pianoforte. Like her love for Dounreay, Scotland’s soothing song had resonated deep in her soul.
“Are you waiting to catch something, Lillian?” Eliza appeared over the brow of the hill, her hair fastened in a pretty braid, her cheeks aglow. “You’re holding out your arms like you’re expecting the heavens to fall.”
“I’m surrendering to the elements.” She twirled around, a child of Mother Nature, wild energy pumping in her veins.
“I’ll be sad to leave this place,” Eliza panted, bracing her hands on her hips and taking in the view. “And we’ll all be sad to leave you.”
“You’re welcome to stay.” She wouldn’t press the matter. Adam would never leave London permanently, and his sons would one day be the toast of English society.
“It’s tempting. But we stand at the beginning of a new railway age. We’ll soon be able to make more than half the journey by train.”
Lillian reached for Eliza’s hands. “You will write and visit often?”
Eliza hugged her. “Of course. And don’t worry about Adam. I’m with child, and the chaos will keep him occupied.”
“Again!”I think I’m with child too, she added silently.
Adam came charging up the hill, chasing his two eldest sons. The wind ruffled his dark hair, laughter danced in his brown eyes.
“Ye’ll get back here, ye wee rascals,” he said, feigning Dounreay’s Scottish burr. “Else ye’ll nae get yer supper.”
Both boys squealed, but then Theodore took a tumble.
Adam snatched him up and held the child against his shoulder. “Look! I’ve found a wee lamb for the stew, Mama.”
Theodore kicked his legs. “Don’t eat me, Papa.”
Eliza laughed. “Aye, there’s plenty of meat on those bones.” She turned to Lillian. “We’re heading inside. Are you coming?”
“No. I think I’ll stay here a while.”
Eliza gave a coy smile. “Doubtless, Dounreay will come and find you when he’s finished with his steward. It’s odd that a man who’s walked these hills for years would get lost for hours.”
