Dare to Love a Scot Page 3

  “Because you both are in love?”

  “Yes.”

  Prim twisted to face her sister. “But I’m not in love,” she confessed. “I’ve never felt anything even close to it. You don’t understand how I’m feeling any more than I do. I need to be alone now, so I can think in peace, and figure out what my purpose is now.”

  “All you need to do is be yourself. That’s all we’ve ever wanted from you.”

  Prim turned back to her vanity and remained silent. That was precisely the problem she faced. For most of her life, she’d devoted herself to being the one daughter in her family who didn’t stir up trouble. That had led to a very proper engagement to Lord Peverel, one of the most eligible men on the marriage mart in London Society. But now that her perfect plan had fallen apart, Prim was left picking up the fragments of the person she used to be.

  The sound of Violet’s footsteps and the click of the door as she retreated only emphasized the ensuing silence in the room. Sitting up, Prim wiped her face, studying herself in the mirror. The pallid woman staring back at her was not whom she wanted to see. She’d lived her life on the terms of others—first her mother’s and her sisters’, and then Peverel’s.

  But what did she want?

  She felt as though she had woken after a long sleep, and everything was different. This gritty new world frightened her, and yet, for once, there was no expectation on her, no duty to uphold. She could do as she pleased: take up an instrument, take a grand tour, or study the Roman ruins. She knew that whatever she wished to do, her family would support her. But none of those ideas stirred any excitement inside her.

  Not like Lachy Dennehy.

  What if the thing I most need is to indulge my own desire?

  The wild thought suddenly took root in her mind, rapidly forming potential ideas and visions. Would I really dare to dally with a Scotsman? She could hardly close her eyes without seeing his chiseled jaw, shadowed with tantalizing stubble she wanted to scrape her nails through. She wanted to explore all the different textures of his body. He was so virile compared to Peverel, wonderfully broad and unrefined, where her ex-fiancé had been sleek and elegant.

  Prim wanted to inhale Lachy, and luxuriate in his masculine and earthy scent. Peverel’s cologne had reminded her of toothpowder and sandalwood, crisp and clean, yet not very alluring. Everything about Lachy proclaimed him different from her in every way. Being with him would be an entirely new and unforgettable experience. Her pulse jumped at the thought of what they could do to each other.

  Major Lachlan Dennehy was exactly what she needed to help her shed her old self and reveal the new Prim—not proper or perfect anymore—but happier and freer.

  Prim hurried and changed her dress, tying her hair pack with a ribbon. Violet might have left her alone, but it was likely only to fetch reinforcements in the form of Heather.

  Prim would make sure they couldn’t find her. Using the trees as cover for her escape, she hurried across the green lawn that surrounded the castle. Rain had begun to fall, limiting her choice of hideaways to something closer than she’d originally intended. She could see the building that was to be Erick’s new dairy, and hurried inside the shelter, startling a bird from the floor. The cavernous barn appeared empty at first, with a lone wagon at the far end, piled with loose hay. But then a scuffling and scraping sound came from the far end.

  A man suddenly stood, head and shoulders above the stall wall, brushing hair away from his brow with a gloved hand.

  Prim froze.

  Even in the weak light, she recognized him. His chestnut hair and the broad expanse of his shoulders were familiar to her now.

  He came out of the stall and stabbed the mountain of hay with his pitchfork, the muscles of his arms straining his shirt sleeves as he hefted the mound in one fluid motion.

  Prim wanted to bolt before he caught sight of her, but her feet wouldn’t listen. She licked her lips instead, a variety of emotions and thoughts clashing inside her. The easiest of them to discern was intrigue. But why does he affect me like this? No other man had caused such a riot inside her. As she stood before him, her pulse skipped frantically, and her skin prickled with heat. This awareness of him clawed at her, turning her completely inside out.

  His sun-kissed skin glistened with sweat, but he moved effortlessly, as if the rigorous work he did barely tired him.

  One glimpse of him, and her dress became a sweltering wool blanket. She turned to leave, but he glanced up at that moment, and she was stuck where she stood, flushed and embarrassed.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice echoing in the large room.

  “I work here. What are you doing here?”

  Prim chewed her bottom lip, her thoughts scattering. “This is my home.”

  “This barn?”

  He set the pitch fork against the wagon and rested one arm on the side, crossing his booted ankles.

  She scoffed. “No.”

  Too late she realized that he was only teasing. Flustered, she decided to stride forward, rather than yell across the barn. She didn’t know where to begin with him. Seduction had not been a part of her governess’ tutoring. She swallowed, tangling her fingers together behind her back, and then changing her mind and folding her arms in front of her. Standing with her hands behind her back made her appear too much like a chastised child. She was a woman now, and she was irrefutably drawn to his overwhelming maleness.

  All this time she’d thought of herself as an even-tempered, reserved person. That’s what she’d been most of her life, after all. Soft-spoken and complacent, but something inside her had changed recently. A buried part of her had woken up when she’d met Lachy.

  Why?

  “I was jilted,” she blurted out.

  If he was shocked, he didn’t show it. He simply folded his arms and remained silent, which only made Prim want to fill the empty space.

  “I haven’t any clue why—well, that’s not true. I suspect… I believe I wanted things he wouldn’t give me. When I met him, I thought we had similar interests, and at the time, we did. But in time, I changed. I started to feel…”

  She couldn’t find the right words for her desire and yearning. She felt hot, fevered, itchy, and wet in his presence. She blushed at these realizations, dropping her chin to hide her face from him. Words like yearning and desire hadn’t been a part of her vocabulary before, but they definitely fit the situation she’d found herself in. She’d yearned for something more with Peverel, and he simply couldn’t give it.

  But Lachy could. One glimpse of him, and Prim had instinctively known it.

  “Lust,” he finally answered.

  The word jolted her out of her thoughts. She sucked in a breath, her breathing far too quick to be normal.

  He began to shovel hay again, his movements fast and jerky. Prim peeked at him, but his back was to her.

  She sighed in relief. She should leave now and never look him in the eye again, abandoning her crazy plan to have an affair with him. She could barely speak to him, after all. She turned and walked as fast as she could without running to the barn door.

  He’d stopped shoveling, but Prim refused to look back. She’d bared too much to him already, and had told him things she couldn’t even tell her sisters. He was a stranger to her, and yet the urge to go to him, throw herself in his arms, and see exactly what he could teach her about lust beckoned her so strongly it frightened her all the way down to her toes.

  Chapter 5

  Prim raced all the way back to her room, her heart thudding in time with her steps. Out of breath, she tried to outrun her confusing emotions, slamming the door on them and leaning firmly against it to keep them out.

  Heather gawked at her from her bed, clearly startled by her sister’s chaotic entry. “Is someone chasing you?” she asked with alarm.

  “No,” Prim panted. “I was just…in a hurry to get back here.”

  “Where were you?” Heather asked with a frown. “I’ve been waiting for you
for some time. Violet said you were acting…strange.”

  Prim pushed away from the door and went to her vanity, busying herself with drying her damp hair. “I went for a walk. Is a jilted woman not allowed to do that?”

  “Goodness, we’re only looking out for you,” Heather replied in an admonishing tone. “Violet was quite hurt by your words, you know.”

  “Poor Violet,” Prim answered, the words muffled by her towel.

  She could hear her sister moving closer, and then a hand settled on the nape of her neck. Can Heather feel how my skin burns? How merely speaking to Lachy had set my body ablaze?

  Washed in the sins of her thoughts, she was pulsing with wanton needs she didn’t understand, but had no idea how to smother.

  “Are you unwell?” Heather asked. She touched her hand to Prim’s forehead. “You feel warm. You shouldn’t have been out in the rain.”

  “I’m fine,” Prim replied brusquely, brushing her sister’s hand away. “I just want to be alone.”

  She swallowed then, her throat becoming thick as she met Heather’s worried, steely gray eyes in the mirror. Her sister had changed so much in the six years she’d been married to Erick. Happiness radiated from her every day, and she glowed with a motherly love that spread to everyone around her. Motherhood had also altered her physical appearance, rounding her face and her body in the places that made her more welcoming. She was a shoulder to cry on, and she possessed strong arms to hold whoever needed comfort.

  But can she understand what I’m going through—this war of emotions and sensations in my body?

  Heather’s courtship with Erick had been anything but typical. They’d fought difficult circumstances, that much Prim knew, but much of what happened had been left in mystery to her. She’d only been fourteen at the time, but she’d known they’d been hiding a terrible secret from her.

  Prim had never pressed them to learn what that secret was. Denial had been her salvation long ago, denial about her father’s death, their lack of money. She hadn’t wanted to see how her mother and sister had suffered as they valiantly tried to keep their family together. Erick had come along and saved them all from a terrible future, that much Prim knew.

  But what kind of future would I have now? She was drifting aimlessly, a boat without an anchor. Peverel had had a reason for jilting her that he hadn’t provided, and that was just as hurtful as the jilting itself. While he had escaped unscathed, Prim was being painted by society as something unwanted. She had been tossed aside like garbage. What future can I build from that? The coming days and years stretched out before her like a cloudless sky, wide and open, but also terrifyingly vast, with nothing to give her direction.

  “I can only imagine what you are feeling,” Heather said quietly, brushing tendrils of hair away from Prim’s face. “It may seem easier right now to bear it alone, but it isn’t. Lean on me. Lean on Violet and Mother. We only want to help you.”

  Prim dropped her gaze. “I know. But there is nothing that can be helped.”

  Heather sank to her knees before her sister and took her hands. “We’re not talking about what Society now thinks of you. We want to know what you think. What you feel. We want to help you overcome this, and move on.”

  “I don’t know how to do that.”

  “That’s perfectly fine,” Heather replied. “But we want to help you get there in any way we can.”

  Prim nodded. “I know, but…”

  If she were merely hurt, it would be different, but it was so much more than that. How can I begin to explain it? Would I find any answers before all these questions tumbling in my head drive me mad?

  She took a deep breath. “I just need time. And I don’t want to be watched over like a baby bird.”

  Heather stood, her round belly filling Prim’s view.

  She reached out and touched the gentle curve. “You have enough to worry over.”

  Heather laughed and then lovingly stroked her belly, holding Prim’s hand to her stomach. “This I can handle. Your stoicism is what frightens all of us. I thought I knew you, and at the time, Peverel seemed to make sense for you. You were both so reserved. But I never really thought… I didn’t think you ever loved him.”

  Prim sucked in a breath when a little kick struck her palm. “I felt him!”

  Heather grinned. “Him? We shall see. But don’t change the subject. Did you love Peverel, in your own way? You were never as expressive as Violet and I.”

  Prim sobered. “No, I didn’t love him.”

  Heather sighed. “Well, that is a relief.”

  “It is?”

  “I can only imagine what you would be feeling now had you truly loved him, but that still doesn’t explain why you’ve pushed us away.”

  Prim huffed. “I can’t explain any of it, can you understand that? I don’t know what I should and shouldn’t be feeling. I’m trying to make sense of this, and it would be so much easier if I had the time and space to do it, instead of being constantly interrogated.”

  Heather stepped back.

  “I’m sorry,” Prim said, contritely. “I don’t want to push any of you away, but having to explain feelings I don’t yet understand is a bit of a nuisance.”

  Heather nodded and folded her hands over her stomach. “I think I can understand that, and I will tell Mother and Violet of your wishes. If peace is what you need, peace is what you shall have. Just know that we are here for you when you are ready to talk about it.”

  “Thank you,” Prim said with relief.

  Heather moved toward the door, pausing to look back at her sister. “I suppose it’s past time for us to accept that you’ve grown up. You’re no longer the little girl we could keep under our wing, sheltering you from the storm.”

  “No,” Prim said.

  She didn’t need sheltering any longer. What she needed was to face this storm inside her, and she was certain the only person who could help her was the one man she absolutely should avoid.

  Lachy Dennehy.

  Running and hiding was not the answer. She was no seductress, but perhaps if she approached him differently, he, being the hot-blooded male he obviously was, would do the work for her. All she needed to do was put herself in his path as frequently as possible.

  Chapter 6

  Lachy tossed his satchel into the back of the cart and winced as he climbed up to the seat. He took a moment to stretch out his leg, his thigh muscle twitching and protesting.

  “Wait!”

  He twisted, not seeing the woman who matched the voice at first. Then a straw bonnet crested the hill, ribbons flapping behind her as Primrose Everly sprinted toward him.

  Arrested by the sight, he had no choice but to wait as she ran straight to the cart, catching herself against the side.

  “I’m coming with you,” she panted.

  “No, you’re not. Do you even know where I’m going?” Lachy asked, his mind still stumbling over her sudden appearance.

  She perused the emptiness of the cart, except for his single satchel.

  “It can’t be that far,” she said. “My guess would be you’re going to Aberdeen.”

  “And why the devil would you want to come with he?” he asked, taking in her simple bonnet, the blue ribbons still trailing in the breeze, and her curve-hugging brown coat, which was over the same blue dress she’d worn earlier in the barn.

  Control was the issue here—or rather, the lack of it. He’d have to control his roaring lust if she came with him, and she’d definitely have to quit being so lust-worthy—neither of which would happen if she rode with him all the way to Aberdeen.

  “I think it best you return to the castle, Miss Prim.”

  She planted her fists on her hips. “Look, I know riding with you isn’t what I should be doing, in my particular situation, but we need to talk, and a ride together to Aberdeen is the perfect opportunity to do that without interruption or…the illusion of privacy.”

  He let out a short, gruff laugh. “You think I can’t seduce y
ou in a cart on an open road?”

  Her cheeks flagged with color. “I didn’t think you would wish to.”

  “You’re mad, woman. Get back to your family.”

  “No.”

  She circled around the cart and climbed in.

  Lachy cursed his stiff leg, or he might have had the agility to stop her. Instead, she settled on the bench, but not close enough to touch him with any part of herself or her clothing as she adjusted her skirts.

  But damn it, he could feel her proximity, like waves of heat from an oven.

  He cut a glare at her.

  She tilted her head and studied him. “Are you afraid I’ll seduce you on an open road in this cart?”

  Another laugh escaped him. “You wouldn’t know how.”

  Then he flicked the reins, his mule jumping to movement and rocking the cart.

  She hastily grabbed the bench, her hand brushing his thigh.

  Lachy’s entire body felt on fire. “Hold on. I’ll not stop, should you fall out.”

  She grinned. “Why are you going to Aberdeen?”

  “For workers,” he answered gruffly.

  “Are there not enough living in the village?”

  “No.”

  From the corner of his eye, he watched her. “They don’t take kindly to working for the duke.”

  She blinked in surprise. “Erick is exceedingly kind and fair. Why wouldn’t they want to work for him?”

  Lachy shrugged. “Sheer stupidity. The truth is, they’re holding a grudge for past grievances that have nothing to do with the present duke. For years, we’ve lost good workers to the major towns like Aberdeen. Our small village couldn’t keep up with the changes the Earl of Cassel and other landowners wanted to make to increase farming yields. I’m trying to bring young workers back to the village, but they’re resisting.”

  “Why would they resist an opportunity to come home? It sounds childish, and lazy.”