Page 28 of I’ve Grown Accustomed to My Scot

“I am worried I am growing too fond of her.”

As soon as the words left his lips, he wished them back again. But it was the truth, or at least part of the truth. Grace was his wife but he had never expected her to inhabit that role, or for him to begin to see her in that role. That had never been his original intention when he married her.

Kilsyth’s eyes lit with amusement. “I don’t consider that a negative. But I can see it might concern you, a man who does not wish to be chained down by uncomfortable emotions.”

Chained down by uncomfortable emotions? Rory scowled so furiously, a passing rider swerved to one side.

“It is very early days when it comes to your marriage. Any marriage,” Kilsyth went on pleasantly. “A certain, eh, fondness is expected in the beginning. It will wane once you grow accustomed to each other, and then quite possibly bored.”

Rory considered this. “I imagine you are right. But did you grow accustomed? Bored? You have already told me how much you loved your wife.”

Kilsyth sighed. “Honestly? No, I did not. I loved her more with each passing day.” Then seeing Rory’s expression, “But that is probably not the common way of these things. Not when we’re talking of marriages between the nobility. You should not worry, MacKenzie. I’m sure this fondness you have for your wife’s company is just a passing phase.”

Rory nodded. That sounded better. A passing phase. He would tell himself that as often as possible. And in the meantime, why not make the most of his interest in his wife? Grace did not seem to mind him mauling her, even deriving a great deal of pleasure from it. She was a sensual woman, and even thinking about her stirred lustful thoughts in him.

Kilsyth seemed to be respecting his silence.

“Thank you,” Rory said, feeling much better. “You have set my mind at ease.”

“I am glad.”

“Do you wish to come to dinner? I am sure my aunt would be pleased to have some company. My uncle is often away for long stretches of time, and I canna help but think she is lonely.”

Kilsyth looked surprised and then pleased. “Thank you, I would indeed like to come to dinner, and I look forward to meeting the countess.”

They made their arrangements before Rory set off for home. He did feel better for his chat with Kilsyth, and he was looking forward to dinner. Grace would probably enjoy the man’s company too.

He smiled to himself as he trotted down the streets of Mayfair toward Aunt Jennie’s house. Yes, despite his earlier foul mood, things had worked out well.

*

Grace was writing a letter to her sisters. They would still be at Ormsby’s estate. She knew Ormsby’s cousin would also be there, and the two men liked to hunt from dawn to dusk, so she was hoping that either Harriet or Prudence would find the letter before their father did. She wouldn’t put it past him to keep it from them if he knew she had written.

Words poured out of her as her pen moved across the pages. She missed them so much but she did not want them to be miserable, so she told them about her new clothes and how kind Jennie was to her. She spent many lines on Bothwell the cat. As for Rory, it was more difficult to speak of him. A few weeks ago she would have said he was kind and not to worry, but now their relationship had changed.

She wanted to tell them how handsome he was, how much pleasure he gave her, how he never seemed to tire of the satisfaction they found together in his bed. How he did not go out after dinner anymore and roam about London like a tomcat on the prowl but stayed home, with his aunt and Grace, and seemed as eager as she to retire.

Of course she couldn’t tell them any of that. But she hugged it to herself like a surprise gift.

Eventually she ran out of things to say, and with a sigh, folded the letter and set it aside to be sent. Should she put some money inside the envelope to allow her sisters to pay for the postage? Ormsby would quite possibly refuse. Grace had no money of her own, so she thought she should ask Rory about that. Was he keeping a running tally of her spending? Would he expect her to repay him when her dowry became available? She did not think he was such a penny-pincher but then she did not know him well. They were strangers who had discovered a delight in each other’s bodies.

Her happy thoughts of a moment ago began to slide.

She heard voices downstairs and then the sound of someone hurrying up the stairs. It was Rory back from his ride in the park. Grace expected him to go right past her door, but was surprised when, instead, his steps stopped and her door opened. Rory peered around it.

“There you are,” he said, his cheeks flushed from exercise. “I thought you might have slept in. Aunt Jennie is not an early riser.”

He leaned against the door jamb and folded his arms, eyes sliding down over her as if he was seeing her naked.

Grace stood, nervously smoothing her hands over her skirt. She thought she looked rather nice this morning, her hair dressed in a flattering manner, and the fawn color of the dress suited her dark hair and eyes. Rory seemed to think so too, if that glint in his blue eyes was anything to go by.

“I have invited someone for supper,” he said. “Lord Kilsyth. You will like him.”

“Oh. That is . . .” her voice trailed off but she did not know what else to say. Who was Lord Kilsyth? But Rory seemed pleased about it, so she smiled. “I look forward to meeting him. Is he a friend of yours?”

Rory paused and then shrugged. “He has become one,” he said. “I will leave you to your letter,” he went on, eyes moving across to her pen and paper.

“I am finished. I was writing to my sisters. Actually, I wanted to ask you if it is all right if I send them some money to pay for the postage. If you could see your way to lending me a small amount.”