Michelle Kelly

The Rake of Glendir


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      ‘We are neighbours then,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘for I am the owner of Glendir now. My grandfather sadly passed away also, no doubt eager to follow your Aunt Matilda.’

      ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Amelia snapped, annoyed at the insinuation in his words. ‘My aunt kept herself to herself, I’m sure. If you’ll excuse me, I must get in before I catch a chill.’

      She looked around, realizing she wasn’t entirely sure of the way back. Lord Glendir stepped towards her, and night time or not, there was no mistaking the look in his eyes. It was desire. After the way Lord Winters had lunged at her she’d thought never to want to see that look on a man’s face again, but something about the laird’s direct gaze and confident manner intrigued her. Excited her, even. She should step away, she knew, yet something kept her there, matching his gaze. A wild recklessness bubbled up in her; the same recklessness that had landed her in trouble so many times as a child before she had, outwardly at least, modelled herself into a respectable young lady.

      ‘Perhaps you would let me escort you?’ Lord Glendir asked, holding out an arm for her to take. A courteous gesture, yet one that left her strangely disappointed. She realized she had been waiting to see if he would embrace her, and chided herself as she felt embarrassment curling in her belly. His eyes were opaque now, and she thought she must have only imagined the flash of desire in them. What must he think of her, running around in this state? His offer to take her back to the house was a welcome one, however. She was, after all, quite lost.

      Reluctantly she took his arm and allowed him to walk her briskly back the way she had come. She had roamed further than she had intended.

      ‘Have you come from London?’ he asked politely. Amelia answered carefully, unwilling to give away too much information.

      ‘I was there with my father and his sister for the Season yes; but then matters dictated I settle affairs here.’

      Jasper frowned at that.

      ‘A young woman like yourself, coming here to the coast when the Season is in full swing? I should have thought you would have preferred to stay. You would have been surrounded by suitors, I’m sure.’

      Amelia felt herself blush at his easy compliment and was glad of the dark. She wondered how best to answer when Jasper spoke again.

      ‘Will not your father be angry you were running around outside like this? I would not wish any scandal to fall on you, given your…attire.’

      He sounded almost amused, although genuinely concerned for her welfare, and another flush of embarrassment made Amelia burst out, ‘I came alone, my lord. My father remains in London.’

      Jasper stopped walking then and turned to face her, his expression serious and his eyes searching her face.

      ‘Are you in some kind of trouble, Lady Amelia?’

      Jasper was intrigued. At first he had wondered if the girl wasn’t a little mad, to be running around so, but talking to her she seemed sane enough. Yet something had brought the young lady here, alone and unchaperoned. She was either running or hiding, or both. But from what? Jasper looked at her, torn between natural curiosity and the need for him to remain aloof from the troubles of this new young neighbour. After all, he had no intention of staying at Glendir any longer than he had to, his ownership of the land providing the perfect cover for his current mission. He had no time for a woman’s folly. No matter how attractive and desirable she may be, he admitted to himself with a swallow. It was indeed a struggle for him to keep his eyes on her pretty face and away from the lush lines of her body, the curves of her breasts pushing temptingly over the confines of her shift.

      Amelia had dropped her gaze, obviously unwilling to share her secrets and looking, he thought, upset. He fancied he could see tears glistening in the corners of her blue eyes and immediately felt like a cad for appraising her form when she was clearly in some distress. She looked up at him as he moved towards her, to offer comfort perhaps, but her expression had become steely, any hint of tears gone.

      ‘Not at all, my lord. I merely have some legal affairs to settle and then I shall be moving on. I am visiting a dear friend who has need of me.’ Well it was half-true, she thought. She was sure her newly married friend Madeleine Wycham would only be too happy to help out when she found out about Amelia’s predicament.

      ‘I see,’ he said, although Amelia was sure he didn’t believe her at all. In fact he gave her the unnerving sensation of being able to see straight into her soul. ‘I apologize if I have offended you. You must understand—’ his full lips curved in a small smile ‘—I am unused to scantily dressed ladies trespassing onto my grounds in the middle of the night.’

      Amelia bristled. He must think her a complete strumpet, she thought. ‘I assure you, my lord,’ she said stiffly, ‘it is not an action I make a habit of. I merely wanted some fresh air.’

      ‘You should be careful,’ he said, his voice softer now. ‘You never know who might be abroad. This is a wild country, Lady Amelia. It is not London.’

      Amelia looked around her, for the first time comprehending the folly of what she had done. ‘I know,’ she admitted. ‘It was foolish of me. It was only…as you say, it is not London, and I think the night air went to my head.’ She stopped, unable to find the words to describe the giddy feeling of freedom that had sent her running through the night. Jasper however looked as though he understood.

      ‘It is beautiful here,’ he said. ‘I myself only returned a few days ago.’

      Something in his tone made Amelia wonder what he himself was doing here, wandering the edges of his lands in the middle of the night. ‘And you, my lord,’ she asked. ‘Is it usual for you, this night-time wandering?’

      ‘I’m no stranger to it,’ he said. ‘But it’s been a while since I have been here, and I wanted to get reacquainted with the land myself.’ It was his turn to stop abruptly, as if there were things that he too did not want to say. His eyes met hers, and she felt a sudden jolt of electricity between them. Time seemed to freeze for a moment as they gazed at each other in the moonlight, secrets shimmering in the air between them.

      When he closed the last bit of distance between them and put his hand gently under her chin, Amelia made no attempt to deny him. She realized with a stab of wanting that she had been waiting for this. The soft breeze caressed her face as he reached for her, and Amelia had the strange sensation of being not entirely herself, or perhaps more herself than she had ever been allowed to be. Jasper bent his head to hers excruciatingly slowly, until Amelia’s own lips were parted and moist with anticipation. As their mouths met and he put an arm around her waist, pulling her into the strong lines of his body, Amelia felt herself respond with an eagerness she had never experienced before. This, she thought hazily, was lust.

      Whether it was the moonlight, the enticing warmth of him, the knowledge she’d freed herself from her father’s machinations, or a combination of all three that caused her to throw caution to the wind and give in to this new yet thoroughly exciting feeling, Amelia neither knew nor cared. As if her body had a mind of its own she pressed her hips into him, leaned into his embrace and moved her lips in time with his in a natural rhythm. A small moan escaped her as he devoured her mouth with his, and when his tongue claimed her she felt a flood of heat to her groin and her breasts throbbed under the thin material of her shift. It felt deliciously forbidden and yet utterly right. Her blood pulsed in her veins, warming her and making her feel deliciously alive, as if all of her time before this had been spent in a slumber.

      When they broke away from each other, her breathing was ragged. Even before Horatio’s unwanted attentions, she had been raised to believe physical relations were something a lady had to endure. Only now did it occur to her that perhaps there was pleasure to be had on her part, as well.

      ‘You taste divine,’ he murmured, his voice low and his breath hot against her neck, sending a feeling of warmth throughout her body that belied the cold.

      ‘So do you.’ He tasted of wood smoke and heather; the taste of this wild Scottish coast, she fancied, so