Page 44 of I’ve Grown Accustomed to My Scot

“There is a place here.” He nodded toward an arbor to one side. Then, quickly, “I will understand if you find this spot not to your taste.”

Did she? Grace was already responding to his kiss, and the way he was stroking her arm, and the very closeness of his strong, hard body. “I think we can manage,” she said, leaning in to nuzzle his jaw. He lifted his head with a groan and she licked down his throat, and kissed the warm skin above his neckcloth.

“We can stand up,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Have you ever stood up during the act, wife?”

Grace shook her head. “But I am happy to try.” She thought that pleased him.

They entered the arbor, which was really just a glorified arch covered in sweet smelling vines, but at least it was hidden from any passersby on the path. Rory ran his hands over her back and shoulders, and then bent his head to kiss the flesh above her bodice. Grace could feel her breasts swell, her nipples tightening, and she wanted his mouth. As if he had thought the same thing, he unhooked the back of her gown so that he had access, and began to lick and suck her breasts.

“Rory,” she gasped. “Oh, I want you. Please.”

He chuckled, and suddenly he was kneeling at her feet, bundling up her skirts, his hands running up her stockings to her bare thighs, and his hot breath tickled the apex between them. She was so hot. With lust and need, for him. All for him.

His mouth closed on her, his tongue pressing inside her channel, and she held on to his head and whimpered. He was going to bring her to her peak and as much as she wanted that, she wanted him more.

“Stop,” she gasped. “I need you inside me. I want to come with you inside me.”

He was on his feet before she had finished speaking, and then he was lifting her. She wrapped her legs about him, her arms curling around his neck, and with barely a fumble, she felt his hard length breach her. He thrust deeply, filling her.

The pleasure was immediate. She tried to stifle her cry on his shoulder while he groaned. Another thrust and then one more and it was over.

When she had caught her breath, Grace slid down his body, back to the ground. He held her when she staggered a little.

“I feel I should apologize,” he said, his voice strangely hesitant for such a confident man. “That was verra quick.”

Grace leaned against him and smiled. “It was perfect,” she said. “I was in need and so were you. We should not leave it so long next time, husband.”

He looked down at her, his face in shadow, and then he sighed and held her close as if he simply wanted to feel her against him. There was nothing carnal in his embrace, only affection and perhaps . . . love?

Grace wanted to believe so. She wanted to tell him that she loved him but the disappointments of her past kept her silent. What if he did not want to hear her confession? What if it made things difficult between them? What if . . . what if . . .

So she held him back and they stood there for a long time in the quiet garden, until it was time to leave.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rory did not say much on the journey home. His feelings were too raw, too exposed, and he worried if he said anything, it would be to blurt out the words he had never thought he would say to any woman. I love you. Because he did love Grace. From thinking he was being kind, to enjoying her company in and out of bed, he had advanced that next step to loving her.

He would never return to the life he had once led, and he did not want to. He could not imagine it. Grace was his life, and tonight the truth had come at him like a runaway horse and carriage, forcing him to see the truth.

What if she didn’t love him? He believed she was fond of him, she liked him, and she was grateful to him. She enjoyed his body. But that didn’t mean she loved him.

His head hurt with all the questions circling around in it until he felt like one of the fighters at Gentleman Jackson’s saloon. Rory needed to consider his next step, or perhaps talk to Aunt Jennie and Uncle James. They would know what to do. But he couldn’t help but think he should be able to work this out for himself.

Grace gave him some questioning looks when they arrived home but wished him goodnight with a sweet smile and left him at his bedchamber door. Perhaps she needed time to think too, or perhaps she wanted to check on her sisters.

Rory knew their situation wouldn’t always be this intense. Prudence and Harriet would grow. They would have their own friends and, eventually, husbands. They would leave and he and Grace would be alone, together. He wondered if they might have children of their own, and the thought didn’t frighten him as much as he thought it would. He tried to imagine a small person in his or Grace’s image, looking up at him as if he knew everything and could do anything. That was a little less exciting. Rory would have more work to do to be the sort of man who deserved a child’s admiration, but he thought he could do it.

But all of this was dependent upon whether or not Grace wanted to stay by his side, continue to be his wife, and love him as he loved her.

Rory was still mulling over everything when he finally fell asleep.

*

He woke to the sound of voices, but he didn’t think anything of it. These days the house was always full of people. He took some time to wash and dress before he came downstairs. If Jennie had visitors he didn’t want to intrude, so he planned to go out riding for an hour or two.

Instead, as he reached the breakfast room, he was confronted with two people he had not thought to see—or perhaps hoped not to see was more the truth, because he was a coward when it came to confessing to his parents what he had done.

They were seated at the table with Jennie and James, and everyone looked up at him and stared as if he had grown two heads.