Page 53 of Scandal with a Sinful Scot

Abbie gave him a warm smile. “Thank you, Oliver.”

“Alberta Eaton has made overtures. I thought to invite her and Jonas this evening. Company for you and Megan. She also wishes to assist, and I do not have the heart to refuse her.” Oliver laid a hand on her shoulder. “Join us for an hour or two. You need a short respite. Bastian can sit with Garrett while we share a meal.”

The thought of leaving his side filled her with fright, but what better person to watch over Garrett than a competent doctor? “I thought Dr. Phillips would suffer apoplexy when he strode into the room. How do you know him?”

Oliver clasped his hands behind his back. “He is impressive. Bastian is the son of a ship builder and a lovely lady from the West Indies, more specifically, Jamaica. She is the daughter of a successful sugar producer. Even though the Faradays are rich in their own right, I wished to sponsor someone at Cambridge. Someone outside Society’s accepted norm. It was a particular achievement, seeing Bastian’s maternal grandfather was a freed slave.”

“I abhorred the existence of a slavery trade. I am relieved it was finally abolished in the commonwealth.”

“It should have passed long before 1838. A stain upon the empire, and I fear it shall be for generations to come. Despite his achievements and the successes of his mother’s family, Bastian, for all his tall, good looks and intelligence, will never fully be accepted into Society. I aim to do all I can to further his cause. Hence the reason I made him my personal physician. Well, that and the fact that he is highly capable.”

“He certainly took charge and saved the day.” Abbie stared at Garrett. “Though this fever worries me.”

“I believe it will pass. Garrett is strong and has much to live for.”

Oliver left her alone. The room was quiet except for Garrett’s ragged breathing. As she trailed the cool cloth across his broad, muscled chest, a distant memory filled her thoughts.

By this point in her summer visit she had fallen desperately in love with him. One afternoon she took a walk. She and Garrett had made plans to meet later in the evening, but she longed to see him—even if it was only a distant glimpse. Her journey had been rewarded. Garrett stood outside the stables, shirt removed, giving his black stallion a wash. Hidden behind a cluster of shrubs, she watched as the play of muscles in his back rippled with each swirling rub of the horse’s glossy coat. Garrett wore a large glove, rubbing in the soap, talking in a quiet tone. Midnight Thunder whickered the occasional response, showing how relaxed he was in Garrett’s presence. Garrett was as finely muscled and sculpted as his stallion. Arousal gripped her as she continued to observe man and beast in perfect harmony.

Yes. Strong. Virile. Formidable.

“Fight, Garrett. Come back to me.”

Chapter 17

Summer 1830

They had been meeting everyday for three weeks. Garrett, randy at the best of times, found he could not draw breath without thinking of holding and kissing Abbie. Perhaps he suffered from an obsession, a fever of the heart. For he would not accept that it was something deeper. Like love.

Must be lust, for they could not keep their hands off each other. Inexpert in the ways of sex, they both caught on quickly enough, experimenting with different positions. The previous night had been particularly wild, with him behind her, pounding fiercely, reaching for…he wasn’t sure what. How could they keep up this pace? Abbie was here for another two weeks yet.

Candidly, Garrett understood it wasn’t only the scorching physical aspect. They got on well, had many similar interests. They had become friends. He admired her boldness, especially during sex. Shaking his head, he glanced about the tool shed. It was becoming more difficult to find places for their secret assignation. It was a wonder they had not been found out, for they were not exactly quiet during their multiple heated joinings.

And what about the future? He had plans, already had discussed the possibility of a horse breeding operation with his father. It would be quite an undertaking. The stables would have to be doubled in size, a breeding shed and different paddocks for the mares, stallions, and yearlings constructed. Larger feed storage facilities and an indoor training area. It would be years before he saw a profit, but Garrett could not wait to begin. He’d always loved horses.

Abbie loved them, too. Could he make her part of his future plans? Where had that thought come from? The door opened and Abbie stepped inside, causing his breath to hitch and his heart to pound.

She ran to his arms and he caught her up in a fierce embrace. He kissed her, hot, sweet, and deep, but Abbie pulled away, gazing up at him. “May we have a conversation before we lose ourselves?”

Talk? When every part of him throbbed with yearning? “We may not have much time…”

“Then we will not talk long.” Abbie grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the crates. She sat, pulling him down beside her. “Tell me more about yourself. What are your plans for the future?”

How fortuitous. Why did she wish to know any of this? His future would not include her. But staring at her beautiful, eager face, he hadn’t the heart to refuse. He spoke of his plans for horse breeding and she listened intently. “I will be attending Cambridge for the autumn session, though I’m still undecided where to focus my studies,” he said.

“You are the second son, there is always the church.” He made a face and she laughed. “Well, there’s the law. Or medical studies. Many second sons buy a commission in the army after university. But you would prefer to breed horses.”

“I’ve no interest in fighting wars. They are usually fought to further the ambitions of the rich, with the poor used as cannon fodder at the front lines.” He thought for a moment. “Learning estate law interests me; perhaps I will consider it. I would like to learn the ins and outs of running Wollstonecraft Hall. Our steward is elderly, his retirement is imminent. I believe I would enjoy taking over the position and would excel at it.”

“You would make a fine steward,” she beamed.

What was her point in asking these questions? Garrett was about to inquire when she vaulted herself at him, kissing him soundly. He was lost, drowning in her fresh wildflower scent, her feminine softness, the ferocious beating of her heart. As he kissed her, he cupped her full breast, his thumb brushing past her erect nipple until she whimpered with need.

There would be no rolling about the floor in this dusty shed. Instead, Garrett stood, bringing Abbie with him. He backed her up against the wall, pinning her there. While he kissed her, his hands roved over her curves and the bold minx clutched his stiff shaft and squeezed. A ragged moan tore from him.

Frantically fumbling with their clothes, he freed himself and entered her in a swift fashion, burying himself deep in her heated core. He stilled, nuzzled her neck, savoring the exquisite joy of being inside her. Then something happened—shifted, as if his soul opened to take her in. His heart swelled as he moved inside her. Lifting her high enough to meet his eager thrusts, Garrett gave everything he was and could ever hope to be.

Abbie threw her arms about his neck, clutching him tight. Accepting and open, allowing him to take control. Be dominant. Take complete possession. If he could live the rest of his life like this—inside her, loving her—then his life would be complete.