Page 73 of Never a Duchess
“Lillian,” was all he said, his tone a mild reprimand.
She dropped into a graceful curtsey. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I cannot help but tease you.” All traces of amusement fell away, and her sweet sigh spoke of gratitude. “With you, I can be myself. With you, I forget I’m carrying a heavy burden.”
His heart clenched, as did his conscience. “I have yer undivided attention for a few precious hours. I mean to savour every second, that is all. Hurry. Meet me downstairs.”
They entered their respective rooms to change clothes.
Callan stared at his huge four-poster bed, picturing a naked nymph wrapped around him, nothing but a sheen of sweat between their feverish bodies.
Despite a throbbing erection, he dressed quickly in the Maclean tartan and a white lawn shirt, not bothering with a sporran or coat.
The fire in the dining room burned brightly. After placing the silver soup tureen on the table, Mrs McClintock had stoked the flames before bidding him good night.
Callan’s breath caught in his throat when Lillian padded softly down the stairs wearing the red dress she had borrowed from Ailsa. She was so bonny his heart nearly burst through his chest. She entered the dining room, her hair hanging in a cascade of auburn waves about her shoulders, her feet bare.
“It’s silly, I know,” she said, giving a sheepish grin. “You obviously wear shoes in the Highlands, but I wanted to feel the wood beneath my feet tonight. I wanted to feel free.”
Daring to glance at her tiny toes was a mistake. The woman wiggled them, the movement as seductive as a lover’s beckoning finger.
“Then I must do everything in my power to keep ye warm.” He took the tiny sprig of dried white heather from the mantel, twirled it between his fingers. “Might I put this in yer hair?”
Her lips parted. “You got me a gift?”
“White heather is a symbol of protection.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and pushed the sprig gently into place. How he loved touching her. “Legend says the flowers only grow where the fairies dance.”
She looked up at him, a glint of wonder in her eyes. “You swore to protect me. Now this will remind me you always have my best interests at heart.”
“Nae always,” he teased. He was fighting against the ravaging needs of his body. This wasn’t a David and Goliath story. From the moment she unbuttoned his breeches, he’d been destined to lose the battle.
“No, you hurt me deeply today.”
He felt those words like a blade to the soul. “The execution left a lot to be desired, but it was said with good intention. I was trying to spare us both from suffering further pain.”
Her gaze journeyed over his hair, his face, his kilt. “I’ve spent my life knowing my mother chose my brother over me. Any form of abandonment leaves lasting scars, but that’s not what hurts the most. It’s anticipating the moment my life might collapse around me. That’s what you did today. You shattered my world.”
The blade cut so deep his body ached.
But he understood the importance of this moment, what it had cost her to speak from the heart. “So why did ye come? Why do everything to build bridges when it’s more than I deserved?”
She touched the delicate sprig in her hair. “Because I don’t want you to leave. You make me feel things I shouldn’t, want things I shouldn’t. The path ahead is clouded with uncertainty, but for the first time in my life, I’m prepared to face my fears.”
He’d spent many sleepless nights praying he’d hear those words.
“What do ye want from me?” He had to know.
She placed her palm on his chest, flexing her fingers over the hard muscles. “I want to know you in all the ways a woman might know a man. Let’s not worry about tomorrow. Let’s live for this perfect moment because it might be our last.”
He should drop down on one knee, make a declaration.
But he would take anything she had to give.
That’s what he’d realised while sitting alone in the dark.
“I can do that if ye promise to speak openly.” He cupped her cheek, stroked her jaw with the pad of his thumb. “I cannae live with secrets, Lillian. My father lied to my mother, and it broke her.”
“I’ve never lied to you.”
“But ye’ve nae been honest, either.”
