How the Scot Was Won by Caroline Linden

16

Taking his father to dine with the St. James ladies turned out to be a masterstroke.

Felix had decided to take the gamble when his network of legal gossip reported that the sheriff was sure the St. James family knew more than they were letting on about where Drew had gone, and the men who had watched Mrs. Ramsay’s house moved to watch the St. James home instead.

His father was a willing collaborator, at his most charming the whole evening, making Mrs. St. James smile and the younger girls laugh. Felix saw how his father covertly eyed Agnes, and heard the extra gentleness in his tone when he spoke to her, but the judge was on good behavior and said nothing imprudent.

Until they left, that is. When they reached the street, Felix tipped his hat insolently to the sheriff’s men lingering in a narrow close across the street. His father, on the other hand, walked straight over and spoke to them. He asked their names and purpose, instructed them to keep an eye out for any suspicious figures because the thieving ring was still an open case, and ended by saying he hoped he didn’t see them in his courtroom on charges of harassment.

“You told me to be discreet,” Felix said as Lachlan came back, leaving the officers bowing and scraping in his wake.

The judge raised his brows. “That was discreet. For their ears only.”

Felix grinned. Word would get around the sheriff’s office as fast as sound could travel.

They walked a minute before Lachlan said, “A very charming family.”

“Aye.”

“I remember the son,” he went on. “A tall, dark-haired boy, always trying to keep you from trouble.”

Felix choked. “Keep—! He joined in every prank and caper!”

Lachlan chuckled. “And I suspect I have finally solved the years-old mystery of the disappearing hams.”

Felix started. He’d sent food anonymously to the St. Jameses for a few years after Drew refused to accept money and left for the army. He’d thought his father hadn’t noticed. “They wouldn’t accept any other help,” he said, deciding there was no point in denying it.

His father shook his head. “I wouldn’t have protested, if you’d asked me. The housekeeper was driven to despair.”

“I ought to have told her.”

“Aye. And speaking of things you ought to have done, why was I not able to welcome the young lady to our family tonight?”

Caught off guard, he flushed. “It doesn’t feel right to ask her now.”

The judge clucked in disapproval. “Amor neminem praestolatur, lad.”

Felix clamped his jaw shut and walked faster. Love waits for no one. Perhaps not, but he’d made the worst marriage proposal of all time. He had a lot to overcome with his next one.

But searching for the right moment only grew harder. Within days word filtered out that Drew had come to blows with some sheriff’s men sent after them, which made Felix want to punch someone himself; what the blazes was Drew doing?

Drew and Ilsa did not return to Edinburgh. The sheriff’s men remained outside the St. James home.

The strain grew evident in their household. Felix took to calling every day, both to keep an eye on the sheriff’s men and to offer what little comfort he could. His sources of news ran dry; even his father heard nothing. He still went to see the ladies, who had begun to blame themselves.

“This is our fault, isn’t it?” asked Bella tearfully. “We badgered Drew.”

“He made his own decisions,” Felix promised her. “He swore he would do anything in his power for her.”

Winnie bit her lip. “He didn’t want Ilsa to leave, but when she insisted, he went with her. Because we were standing there urging him on.”

“I feel certain he would have gone regardless of your presence, if he couldn’t persuade her to stay.”

Another tear ran down Bella’s face. Mrs. St. James reached for her, but Bella flinched away and ran out, followed closely by Winnie.

Her face pale, Louisa St. James turned to Felix. “Thank you, Mr. Duncan.”

He squeezed his clasped hands. “I wish I had happier news to tell you.”

“I know.” Slowly, as if pained, she rose and left.

Felix looked at Agnes, sitting silent and stricken on the sofa. “Are you going to flee as well?”

She swallowed. “To where? There’s nowhere to go to escape this, is there?”

Frustration boiled up inside him. He’d long since let go of any anger at St. James—after the surprise had worn off, Felix had realized he oughtn’t to have been surprised at all. He’d once told Agnes he thought Ilsa Ramsay could change Drew’s mind about leaving Scotland; of course she would be able to persuade him to go along on her mad and quixotic quest.

None of that could comfort the man’s family. They feared for him, and for Ilsa.

“Put on your sturdy shoes and hat,” he said abruptly. “Let’s go.”

Agnes blinked. “Where?”

The idea materialized in his head like a vision. “Out.”

As mad asthe idea sounded, once they reached the park, Agnes inhaled deeply and felt her shoulders ease. It was a beautiful day, and she had missed the outdoors.

“Are you ready to climb?” Felix joined her, having settled with the driver of the hack.

She shielded her eyes and gazed up. Arthur’s Seat, a bald mass of stone, towered seven hundred feet above them. “’Tis a rugged ascent.”

“We have a picnic to eat on top.” He swung a bulging rucksack over one arm and winked.

He must have bought it when he went out to hire the carriage while she changed clothes. Slowly Agnes smiled. “We’ll want it!”

Almost three hours later they reached the pinnacle. The sun broke through the clouds in patches, and the breeze was calm. And it was deserted—not a single person on the path, nor at the summit. Energized and breathless from the climb, Agnes charged ahead, remembering, and after a search, found what she sought.

“A handsome perch,” said Felix with a laugh as he caught up a few minutes later.

Agnes grinned down at him from the rocky outcropping she’d scrambled atop. “My father and I used to sit here. It offers the most beautiful view of Edinburgh.”

“Aye,” he agreed.

Agnes tilted up her face to the intermittent sun, letting her hat slide off to hang by its ribbons down her back. It was so good to be out of town, away from everyone. She had worried the sheriff’s men would follow, but Felix said he’d told them where he and Agnes were going and pledged not to stray from Edinburgh. She hadn’t realized how weighty their scrutiny was until now, when it was gone.

“This was my favorite place in the world,” she said. “Drew went to school, my mother and sisters couldn’t make the climb, so I had Papa to myself here.”

“He was a good man,” said Felix quietly.

“The best.” A lump formed in her throat, thinking of Papa. “I’m not going to leave Edinburgh with Drew,” she said abruptly.

From the corner of her eye, she saw his head whip around toward her.

“I understand that he must go,” she went on when Felix said nothing. “Winnie and Bella are very excited to see London, which means Mama will go, too.”

“But you don’t wish to,” he murmured.

She shook her head. “I love Edinburgh, even after… all this. Papa loved it, too.”

“You don’t feel he would want you to go with them?”

“No.” She smiled ruefully. “Papa never wanted the slightest thing to do with Carlyle. My grandfather was the old duke’s brother, and the duke threw him out when he was a young man. What family bans one of their own? No one from Carlyle ever spoke to my grandfather or my father again. They only want Drew now because they cannot keep him from inheriting, and they mean to shape him into their sort of man.”

“They’ve not succeeded,” said Felix. “Nor will they. He knows who he is.”

Agnes nodded. “When he first came home and told us, I feared they would change him—and us. But I was wrong.” She glanced at him. “We’re a stubborn lot, St. Jameses.”

He affected surprise. “Are you? No, surely not…”

She laughed. “I’m going to stay here and run the shop. Papa bought it so we would always have an income, and I intend to keep it when my family leaves. He would want me to.”

Felix just nodded, listening and watching her.

In the distance, far below and just barely visible, were the cricket grounds where they had played. Where Papa had taught her that everyone deserved a chance to play, as long as they gave their best effort. That was what Papa had admired most about Felix, she realized; he never gave up, and always gave his all. Just as he’d done for her, and for Drew and Ilsa. “He thought you were a good lad.”

“Did he?” Felix smiled. “I used to wish my da was more like your papa.”

“But your father is charming!”

“To you,” he retorted. “He’s a bit harder on me.”

“What would he think of me, running the shop when Mama leaves?”

He winked. “That he likes a determined lass.”

She laughed, then looked away. “What would you think of it?”

“I? I admire anyone who strives hard for their heart’s desire. And I’m very fond of that shop now.” He gave her a sinful look. “I’ve been kissed fair out of my mind in the salon.”

She gasped, then burst out laughing and smacked his shoulder. It put her off balance, and she gave a startled shriek as she started to slide.

The ground was grassy. The stone ledge she sat on was only a few feet high. But Felix caught her in his arms and held her as if snatching her from the jaws of death.

“Thank you,” she said breathlessly. Her arms had gone naturally around his neck.

His eyes crinkled up when he smiled. “Any time,” he murmured, letting her feet back to the ground.

And then he kissed her. As always, it went to her head like whisky drunk too fast, making her feel giddy and beautiful and absolutely wild with wanting.

It had never been whisky that made her feel this way, though; it was Felix. Just him. Every time he kissed her. She hadn’t understood until now that it had been the first sign they were meant to be together.

“Did you really want to marry me?” she managed to ask as he kissed her jaw. “When you asked.”

“I did,” he growled. “Enough that I rushed to do it against all advice.”

Her eyes flew open in alarm. “Who advised against it?”

“Hmm.” He squinted against the emerging sun, which gilded his hair to polished copper. “My father and my partner both suggested waiting until I didn’t look like a corpse freshly dug up from the grave.”

She gasped. “You did not!”

He gave a short laugh. “I felt like one! And then worse, after hearing your answer.”

Agnes wet her lips and lowered her gaze to the knot of his neckcloth, which had gone askew. “I’m sorry for that.” She couldn’t help herself; she tugged the knot straight and smoothed the ends. “After all you’ve done for my family, for Drew and Ilsa, for me, I am appalled that I thought so little of you—“

He tipped up her chin with one finger. “Nothing I did was done out of guilt, or to try to change your mind. I helped a friend in need, aye? You, and your family, owe me nothing.”

His eyes were so blue, and his face so handsome. And dear. And beloved. She was head over heels in love with him. From attraction and desire had grown friendship and affection, until he was the person she thought of first in any important moment. He was the one she hoped to see enter, every time a door opened. His was the only hand she wanted on hers, his arms the only ones around her. His voice, low and hot at her ear. His mouth on hers.

She gripped his hand, suddenly tongue-tied. “I—Felix, I—“

He waited, his mouth still curved in a rueful smile.

“If you were to ask me again,” she blurted out, “my answer would be different.”

The familiar blue flame kindled in his eyes. “Agnes St. James,” he exclaimed, “are you asking me to ask you to marry me?”

She blushed. “If you want to.”

“Aye, I do,” he murmured. “Have you any advice on how to do it?”

Agnes gulped, too anxious to laugh. “I love you.”

The merriment dropped from his face.

She nodded, her throat too tight with nerves to say it again.

His eyes closed for a moment. “Will you marry me?” She started nodding, and he seized her for a fierce kiss. “Will you?” he demanded. “Truly?”

“Yes.” She began to smile. “Yes. Did you think I would say I love you otherwise?”

He grinned, his fingers tightening on her jaw. “I’ve been falling in love with you since you tormented me by licking butter off your lips in Agnew’s coffeehouse. I’ll never stop falling for you, Agnes.”

Her lips parted in astonishment, and he kissed her again, bearing her back against the rocky ledge. She wound her arms around him; there was no reason not to, now. Her heart felt full to bursting, her blood seemed to fizz in her veins, and her skin tingled everywhere.

She leaned back, arching her neck to feel the sun on her face. The stone at her back, the fresh air around her, and Felix in front of her, his weight unbearably arousing against her. I’ll never stop falling for you, echoed his voice over the drumming of her heart.

She reached out and pulled the tie holding his hair. Coppery waves fell over his shoulders and Agnes plunged in both hands, fascinated. He growled and made short work of the pins in her hair, wrapping the length around one big hand as he crowded closer and bared her throat to his sensual assault.

On instinct her legs parted. He pressed closer still. Wordless, she gripped his head as he lowered his mouth to the swells of her breasts and tasted her skin. Sensation rioted through her. She didn’t even know she’d put her legs around his hips until he slipped one hand beneath her and hiked her higher, rocking his own hips against hers at the same time.

This must be a dream…

No… It’s too good…

It was real. He was hers, and she was his, just as she had always wanted.

“I want you,” she breathed. “Felix.”

He huffed out a strained laugh. “Ye know I want you—always will, anywhere, beyond all reason.”

She smiled fiercely, and shoved his jacket off his shoulders. He blinked, startled, then yanked it off. Her pulse accelerating, she untied her half cloak and let it fall it aside. For the shop she dressed fashionably, but today, for their walk, she wore a sturdy woolen skirt with a simple bodice. Much more suited to hiking.

Much easier to take off.

Felix’s gaze burned like flame as she yanked off the kerchief and tugged out the first pin in her bodice. “Are ye tryin’ tae kill me?” he asked, his Scots broad and deep.

“No.” She pulled out another pin. “I’m trying to make love to you.”

“Here?” he exclaimed, nonetheless following her as she backed away toward the picnic blanket he had already spread out in a sheltered spot behind the stone.

“Aye.” Another pin came out. She stabbed it carefully next to the others in the peplum of her bodice. “Just the two of us, alone in the most beautiful spot in the world, with my papa smiling down on me for choosing a good lad for my husband.”

His eyes flicked up to the sky. “Lightning might strike me…”

She laughed and removed the last pins. “Wouldn’t it be worth it?”

Felix watched as she peeled off the bodice, exposing her stays and shift. She untied her skirt and stepped out of it.

“Aye.” He yanked at his neckcloth. “It would be.”

She laughed at him, and then shrieked with more laughter as he tackled her to the picnic blanket, pinning her flat beneath him. “Mo ghràdh,” he whispered, his fingers spearing through hers as he dragged her arms above her head. He ducked his head and sucked lightly at the skin below her ear, making her quiver with longing.

“Felix,” she gasped, writhing, wanting to touch him as much as he touched her.

“Here now.” His voice was deep and rough, which made her burn inside. “Don’t rush me…”

“I’m dying of wanting you,” she confessed. “Always have been. Why do you think I begged you to do such things to me at the Assembly Rooms?” There was no reason to keep it from him, not now.

His face grew taut. Thin white lines bracketed his mouth. “Yer tryin’ to kill me,” he growled. “Ye want me to ride you hard and fast?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, pushing her hips upward into his.

“And ye want me to make you come again and again, here on this hillside?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her insides molten at the thought.

“And ye want me to leave us both spent and exhausted from pleasure?” He bit—bit!—the tender skin at the curve of her neck, and Agnes almost sobbed her answering, “yes.”

He made her wait for it. With his hands and with his mouth, he undressed her to her stockings. He brought her to one climax before he even removed his boots. He worshipped her body, murmuring Scots endearments as she recovered from the heady thrill of it—laving her breasts until she thought she would weep, tormenting her with his hand between her legs as he tasted every inch of her body until she cried out in release.

She still shuddered from that release when he finally flung off the last of his clothes. “When shall we be married?” He moved over her, his hair wild and glowing in the sunlight.

“Tomorrow,” she gasped, reaching for him.

He caught her hand and pressed it to his lips for a kiss. “Not soon enough. I take thee for my wedded wife here and now.” He spread her legs far apart and stroked her there, his touch sure and bold. Agnes thought she might go up in literal flames as her body responded once more.

“I take you,” she managed, arching her neck as he did it again.

“Mine, to love and to cherish,” he rasped, and then he pushed inside her. Her body was so soft and pliant it didn’t hurt. No, it felt good—so good—like a missing piece fitting into place, smooth and thick and hot, bearing into her until her flesh molded to his. She thrashed her head, speechless.

He lowered himself over her, his weight holding her still. “I’m yours forever,” he breathed in her ear. He nipped her earlobe, making her spasm. “And you’re mine, ’til death do us part.”

She seized his face in both hands and kissed him. With a moan, he began to move, each thrust jolting and awakening her. God how she wanted him—how she wanted this— She pulled up her knees and curled her legs around his waist, wordlessly begging him for more, harder, faster. Her heart was racing as if it would explode. She gripped his shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut, plummeting toward rapture like a stone dropped from a cliff.

With a harsh sound Felix pushed himself up on one arm. He cupped her cheek and moved, hard and relentless against her, his expression fierce and focused. Agnes came with a gasp and burst into sobs.

Felix gave a shout, shuddering against her, his weight falling forward. Incoherent, still sobbing, Agnes reached for him, and he folded her into his shaking arms, rolling them to the side. His chest heaving, his skin damp with sweat, he kissed her forehead and clasped her to him. After a moment he pulled his discarded kilt over them, and Agnes curled against him, blissfully worn out and sated.

“Now you have to marry me,” he said after a while. His fingers were running through her hair, making her want to fall asleep right where she was.

She smiled against his bare chest. Copper hairs tickled her cheek, and on a whim she touched her tongue to his nipple, pale pink and rigid. He twitched, to her pleasure. “Because you ruined me?”

“Nay, lass.” His hand flexed on the curve of her hip. “You’ve ruined me. Lightning might have struck me and I wouldn’t have noticed.”

She laughed. “’Tis a good thing I want to marry you, then. I’ll expect this sort of treatment every day.”

“Glory be to God above,” he growled.

Agnes laughed again. “Felix…” She ran her fingers over his chest, marveling at how solid and strong he was. “What do you think Drew and Ilsa are doing?”

“Something like this, I wouldn’t doubt.”

Another burst of happiness glowed inside her. “So you think he’ll marry her?”

He shifted his arm beneath her. “He wants to.”

“I hope he does.” She gazed up at the sky, absently stroking his chest.

“As long as he doesn’t give me any grief, I will wish him very happy.”

She raised her head and propped her chin on his shoulder to look him in the face. He had turned white, that day long ago, when she mentioned her brother. “You think he won’t approve?”

He grinned lazily. “You’d better marry me soon, just in case. He can’t shoot his brother-in-law.”

She gasped, then giggled, and soon they were holding each other, laughing helplessly. It was so lovely to be here, relaxed and easy, with him. Felix had known exactly what she needed—what they both needed. Fresh air, sunshine, a perfect moment to confess their love.

So much love, she didn’t know how one person could hold so much feeling inside herself.

This would be her favorite place on earth forever.