Chapter 18
Quinn didn’t know off the top of his head how many women he’d been with.
A fair few. It was one of the many vices his brother always harangued him about.
He didn’t see any harm in it though, if a young lady wanted to spend time with him.
He learned early enough they were mostly interested in his looks and he learned not to get attached since they were never interested in the life he led.
He was the less dangerous and more fun of the two handsome brothers who lived on the remote, unforgiving land in the far north.
Up until now he was happy to let them approach him, working very little to gain their attention, short of offering a smile or a joke.
It was always meant to be Lachlan who settled down and continued the Ferguson name.
Quinn would have rather taken a solid punch straight to the face than consider working to get a woman to marry him.
Up until now he’d planned on living out his days, giving selflessly of his time to any lovely lass who showed interest. Now all he wanted was Lizzie.
He didn’t quite understand it. She teased him mercilessly, and he still thought she was the most beautiful, charming, and desirable woman he’d ever known.
As far as he was concerned, he was done.
She was the last. He only hoped she felt the same, sure that he’d die alone if she wouldn’t have him, celibate for the rest of his days.
He didn’t think it would be hard, as he now knew no other woman could ever compare to her, but he certainly hoped it didn’t come to that.
What might be hard was convincing her he had anything to offer. He loved his land, as forbidding and lonesome as it was up there, but knew that forbidding and lonesome weren’t especially good selling points, especially to someone as cosmopolitan as his Lizzie.
She was such an odd wee thing, obsessed with the story he’d told her the night they’d first been together. He kicked himself every day for that harebrained slip, but he’d felt so comfortable with her, and it was terrible never being able to speak about what really happened to Lachlan..
She thought she was so subtle about it too, casually asking him questions about witches.
He almost thought she really believed him, and coupled with his first, daft impression that she was from the future, the fact that she continued to bring up the story did bother him a bit.
If ever he’d done something stupid, it had been telling her that tale.
However, it was a drop in an otherwise vast sea of happiness.
The days since they’d returned from the Hollingsborn estate had been the best he’d known.
He’d expected her to go back to her prim, stiff self once they were back in town, pretending nothing had happened between them, and he’d been prepared to fight for her, make her see they should be together.
When she had instead been glad to continue, he felt as if a long dormant seed started to grow in his soul.
He stopped and grimaced at the poetic turn his thoughts had taken.
It seemed love had turned him into an even bigger idiot.
The soft triple knock sounded at his door and he quickly opened it and pulled her inside.
“Catie’s downstairs with Lady Amberly,” she said, coiling her arms around his neck and pressing her entire length against him, setting his blood to boil. “There might be callers in a bit, then we can go to the park.”
“Do ladies never get sick of strolling?” he asked, not sure where he wanted his hands to land first, and letting them roam at will all over her soft body.
“Oh certainly,” she said, nipping at his neck and nearly driving him mad. “It’s a good thing there’s always so much needlework to do to fill the non-strolling hours.”
He grabbed her by the waist and maneuvered her backwards to the bed, knowing they had no time. “Dinna forget the fittings. And the mulling over fabric colors.” He breathed in the scent of her hair, smiling down at her when her legs hit the side of the bed.
“I don’t know how we manage to stroll at all.” She let herself fall backwards and he followed, lying beside her.
He took in her face, her soft, pale hair all scraped to the back, a few wayward strands curling against her glowing cheeks.
He longed to pull it all free from its pins but satisfied himself with pushing the tendrils behind her ears.
Her lips parted as her eyes drifted shut and he leaned down to kiss her.
“I know there isna enough time,” he murmured against her throat.
“Do your best,” she said, sliding her hands down his shoulders, her eyes full of invitation.
He kissed her deeply then pulled away. He’d been wanting to have a serious conversation with her for days, but she always managed to confuse and distract him.
“Ye make me verra happy,” he said, tracing the line of her cheek to her chin.
Her eyes widened with surprise and he felt a slight pang.
If she looked so shocked at that simple declaration, would she run screaming at the question he’d been longing to put to her?
He kissed her again, for courage, and also because he knew she liked it.
He’d use any means necessary to convince her.
She grabbed the back of his head and parted her lips, making what had meant to be a quick peck go on much longer. When he pulled back, her eyes were dreamy.
“You make me happy, too,” she said, tugging at his shirt.
He took her hand and held it still against his chest. “Catie does well here,” he started, hurrying on at her look of confusion at his seeming jump of subject.
“It’s clear her aunt cares for her.” He let out a long breath.
“I shall have to return to the Highlands soon.” Quinn watched carefully for any sign of anguish to cross over her features.
She blinked and nodded, looking nothing more than resigned.
Lizzie pushed his hair back off his face, twirling a strand around her fingers. “I’m going to miss you,” she said, a hitch in her voice.
That small sound of emotion was what he needed to move forward. “Lizzie, I want ye to come with me.”
If he thought she looked shocked a moment before, he hadn’t been aware of what shock really looked like. Her eyes flew open and she scooted backwards into a sitting position, making a distressed noise in her throat.
“What do you mean?” she asked, turning red. “In what capacity would I go with you?”
He smiled, sitting up to be on a level with her.
“As my guest.” No, that wasn’t right. He was mucking it up.
He’d never made an offer before, had never had to be serious like this.
So much counted on his doing this right, in a way that she would want to remember, and remember without cringing.
“I want to know ye better, to spend all my time with ye, and show ye how I live.”
“I-I don’t know,” she said, pulling at the neckline of her dress. “I don’t think I can.”
“When your employment is finished here, ye can do what ye want, aye?” His words sounded harder than he meant, almost accusatory. He laced her fingers with his and kissed her fingertips. “Will ye think about it?”
Lizzie stared at him, then wriggled out of his grasp and put her face in her hands.
“I’ll think about it,” she promised, then looked up at him again.
Something was different. She looked less confounded and more calculated.
“Will we pass through the land where the witch was? The one who sent your brother away?”
With a sigh, he stood up and paced away from the bed. “No, we needn’t pass anywhere near it to reach my land.”
“But what if we could find her, and get Lachlan back?” she asked.
“Lizzie, lass, it was only a story.” He turned and looked at her in frustration, struggling to keep his voice low. How could she think of that right now?
She shook her head, opening her mouth to argue when a knock sounded at the door, startling them both. Quinn swore, and Lizzie flung herself to the other side of the bed, crouching down out of sight.
He opened it a crack and took the message from one of the lads he’d given some coins to keep him informed of various goings on, then slammed it shut.
“Bugger it. Edwin is here, has been for some time. The lad says Lady Amberly is asleep at her post. I must get downstairs.”
He met her in the middle of the room, where she put her arms around him and rested her cheek against his chest. This was all he wanted, to be close to her. Kissing the top of her head, he said, “I only want to continue to be with ye.”
She nodded, squeezing him tighter. “Better get down to Catie. I shall join you soon.”
***
Lizzie stood frozen in Quinn’s room, staring at the door.
She felt as if she’d been dashed against the rocks after being thrown from a sinking ship.
Panic, confusion, then the excruciating pain of momentarily wishing she could go with him.
How could Quinn do that to her? He of all people should have understood the rules of a fling.
She still had four more days here, and had wanted them to be fun and lighthearted.
She knew she’d crash hard when she got home and started missing him, but kept those thoughts firmly in the back of her mind.
Stealthily, she left his room and made her way slowly downstairs, taking a detour in the empty dining room to gather her wits before having to see him again.
God, the way he’d looked at her, it had torn right through her.
The first second he’d told her she made him happy and invited her to his home, her heart had soared before plummeting.