When a rake’s silver tongue fail
to charm…
Ian Grant has wanted to court a certain lass for quite some time, but
when his usual charm has no effect on Davina MacGregor, he stops talking and
kisses her instead. And what a wonderful kiss it is too. Unfortunately, his
rakish reputation precedes him and Ian somehow finds his honor in question and
a challenge issued. Can he go to London for a Season without kissing anyone
else?
A lass finds the tables turned
on her….
Davina MacGregor only meant to protect her foolish family from being
sent to the gallows should anyone discover what they’d done. She didn’t want to
make Ian court her in secret, she just didn’t have another choice. But when he
tires of her games and issues a challenge of his own…
Will the lass truly court the
Scot?
Courting
the Scot
CHAPTER ONE
Near
Bonnybridge, Scotland - March 1, 1815
Miss Davina MacGregor set her arrow and raised the bow. Her sight
narrowed onto the bull’s eye as she pulled back on the string. Just as she was
about to release, a large arm slipped around her waist. Startled, Davina let
go, and the arrow flew high before arcing down and embedding itself in the dirt,
just short of the bales of hay she’d stacked and painted for practice.
She suppressed the delicious shiver at his touch. “Are ye so afraid of
losin’ to me that ye have to cheat?” She’d known Ian Grant her entire life and
though some may consider his arm around her an impropriety, she knew it was
only so she’d miss the target. The MacGregors and Grants had a long family
history, and she was just as certain Ian saw her no differently than he did his
younger sisters, Fanella and Jesse.
“I wasna cheatin’, lass. I couldna help myself.”
Ian’s warm breath against her neck caused her skin to prickle. Davina
snorted as she turned, placed a palm against his hard chest and pushed him
away. “I’m not one of yer Edinburgh or London ladies who swoon at yer nearness,
Ian Grant.” Though she could certainly understand why they did. “Yer charms
willna work on me. I’ve kent ye far too long to ken ye’ll try anythin’ to win a
match.”
Even though he did not hold a title, he was still landed, wealthy and
handsome, and many ladies would not mind making Ian Grant their husband. Of
course, there was the potential title that might hold the interest of many. If
his older brother died without issue, as their uncle had, there was a
possibility Ian would become the next Marquess of Brachton. Not that any of
that mattered to Davina. She much preferred it when the marquessate had been
held distantly, and in England, with the Scottish Grants being no different
than her family.
“Ye wound me, Davina.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I’m not tryin’
to charm ye, lass.” His green eyes twinkled as he grinned. “But is it workin’?”
She laughed and turned away from him, set another arrow and took aim at
the target. “Ye stay away this time. The last one doesna count.” Oh, if only he
truly were trying to charm her, but she was no more than just another sister to
Ian.
Davina pulled back the string then let the arrow fly. It struck dead
center and she turned, a wide grin on her face for she had finally beaten Ian
Grant for the very first time.
Except, Ian wasn’t looking at the target, but right at her. He wasn’t
angry that she’d beat him. Instead, he studied her, an odd look of approval in
his green eyes.
“What?”
“Do my charms really not work on ye?” he asked quietly, as if he really
wished they did.
Ian couldn’t be trying to flirt with her, could he?
The very idea was frightening and thrilling, but Davina knew that if
she answered honestly, she’d be setting herself up to be teased. Ian could
never know she’d been half in love with him for the past year. If she answered
honestly and he laughed at her, not only would she be crushed, but humiliated
as well. “If yer missin’ the attention of a female, why don’t ye go off to
London? It’s spring, the city will be fillin’ with ladies ready to hang on yer
every word and prayin’ that ye’ll notice them.”
“I’m not leavin’ this spring.” He still didn’t break eye contact.
Instead he studied Davina, as if trying to gauge her reaction.
Heat rose to her cheeks, and she quickly grabbed another arrow. “I
thought ye were to accompany yer mother and sisters.” Ever since his sister,
Mary, had gone off to London, married Lieutenant Soares, and followed the drum,
their mother wouldn’t let another daughter have a Season without her. It wasn’t
that they objected to the Lieutenant. They didn’t like that they hadn’t seen
Mary in over two years.
Davina set the arrow, pulled back on the string and let the arrow fly.
It struck just to the side of the center mark.
“They doona need me to escort them about,” Ian scoffed. “Besides,
Lachlan is better suited for that position than me. He and Maddie are more
capable of makin’ all the proper introductions.”
Lachlan had married Madeline Trent little over a year ago. She was a
lady, though Davina knew nothing of her family. Hopefully Maddie would have
better luck with Ian’s sisters than Lachlan had, and there would be no more
matches with Lieutenants leaving for the Continent.
“Well, I suppose someone needs to remain behind to see to the crops and
business.” Whisky business. Illegal whisky. Ian did have the full weight of the
family business upon his shoulders. These days, Lachlan lived in England most
of the time, and it was Ian who oversaw each and every detail from the planting
of the first barley seed, to bundling up bottles and small barrels to sneak
into England, much like her own family. For generations, the Grants and
MacGregors had competed as to who produced the best whisky, while they worked
together to avoid the excisemen. Except, the MacGregors hadn’t shipped anything
in nearly a year. Uncle Aiden hadn’t been happy with the quality of whisky and
decided to let the barrels age another year while trying to improve the taste
of the batches they were brewing.
“That is one of the reasons,” he
answered slowly.
Only one of them? What other reasons kept Ian here? It was a question
Davina was afraid to ask. Instead, she grabbed another arrow to cover her
nervousness.
Why was he different today? This wasn’t the same Ian who teased and
often irritated her.
“Ye dinna ask the other reasons.”
“I’m sure ‘tis none of my business.” Davina pulled back on the string
and hoped he could not tell that her hands now shook.
“I’d be goin’ to London if ye
were,” he said just as she let go. She watched the arrow fly toward the mark, sail
over the hay and disappear into the woods. It wasn’t so much the words he spoke
that shook her composure but the lower timbre of his voice that hinted at a
promise.
“Did ye hear what I said?” Ian had moved so close that his heat
penetrated the back of her dress.
As much as she wanted to read more into his words, she was too afraid
to ask for fear the answer wasn’t one she’d dreamed of. “Ye ken Uncle Aiden
doesna have time to take us off for a holiday in London.” She shrugged and
strode away from Ian to gather her arrows. “Besides, we doona belong in London.
Not like yer family.”
“I said that I’d be in London if ye were.” Ian gently grabbed her arm
to stop her from going any further and turned Davina toward him.
Davina blinked up at him. “I heard ye,” she answered, a little more
breathlessly than she’d like.
His hand came up to cradle her cheek and Davina sucked in a breath.
“Doesna that mean anythin’ to ye, lass?” His intense green eyes studied her.
“What does it mean to ye?” she countered as her pulse thundered through
her veins.
“I wish to be here, with ye.” With that he lowered his head and brushed
his lips against hers. Davina dropped her bow and grabbed his arm to keep from
falling as her knees suddenly grew weak.
Ian Grant was kissing her!
***
He’d thought he’d have to chase Davina MacGregor all over the field
while she collected her arrows before he could claim a kiss. Not that he was
certain he’d gain one. She could just as easily have slapped him for his
advances instead of returning it as she was doing now. It had been a risk, that
he well knew, but he could no longer keep the desire to have her in his arms
buried any longer. A risk he was glad he’d taken.
Pulling her close, his arms around her back, he traced the seam of her
lip. When she parted, he swept in.
This first kiss was meant to be a sweet one. In time, he would build
from there, but he should have known better. He’d waited weeks and wasn’t ready
to let her go with a promise to call again in a few days.
Davina tilted her head and he tangled his tongue with hers. At first
she was tentative, then fully engaged as her hands came up and her fingers threaded
through his hair.
He should have known that kissing Davina wouldn’t be like any other
woman. This was not the first kiss he had stolen from an innocent, not that
those hadn’t been given willingly, but they lacked even the barest hint of
passion and were far too decorous for his tastes. Not Davina. Once her lips parted and she learned her way,
she was giving as well as she was taking. He’d always known it would be this
way with her. Davina, a brave, beautiful and bold lass would not demur quietly
or turn five shades of crimson after the mere brushing of lips. No, she’d
conquer and demand more if it was something she liked, and Davina appeared to
be liking this very much. As much as he did.
Her breasts burned against his chest, and he longed to feel the weight
of them in his hands, to lift her skirts and have her legs about his waist as
he thrust deep inside and took her to heights of passion. It was a shame they
were in an open field where anyone could come upon them. He should have waited
until she’d gone into the woods for that last arrow before kissing her. There
wouldn’t have been a chance of them being seen, and he could press forward in
his suit.
He pulled back. What the bloody hell was he thinking?
And then, with a groan, he rested his forehead against hers. Their
labored breaths mingled and Ian tried to come to terms with his thoughts and
actions. Aye, he desired Davina, but that was no reason to treat her like some
dockside whore. She was to be his. Now
he knew that better than ever, and he would show her all the care and respect
one did a future wife. Tossing her skirts up in the woods at the first chance
he was given was not the proper way to court her.
Davina pulled back, curiosity in her dark eyes. “Why did ye do that?”
Ian simply stared at her. “Because I’ve been wantin’ to.”
She pushed him away and anchored her hands on her hips. “But why?”
“It’s not obvious?”
She lifted one dark eyebrow and pursed her lips. “Not to me.”
“I’ve a likin’ for ye, Davina.” Bloody hell, he was blushing. “I
have for some time now, and I thought perhaps ye might have a likin’ for me.”
Slowly, she smiled. “I just might at that, Ian Grant.”
Damn she was beautiful when she smiled. He reached out for her.
Davina stepped back. “Nay. As much as I enjoyed yer kisses, I will no’
be playin’ that game with the likes of ye.”
“Game?”
“I’ve heard how ye go about breakin’ hearts in London and Edinburgh, I
will not be yer next victim.”
What the blazes was she talking about? “I doona go around breakin’
hearts.”
She laughed and turned away from him, her homespun skirt billowing out.
“Jesse and Fanella have told me all about how ye dance, kiss, melt a heart and
go on to the next.”
As soon as his sisters returned from London, he was going to throttle
each of them. “I do no such thin’.”
Davina grabbed an arrow from the ground and then turned to him. “Who do
ye think I believe more? Yer sisters who are dear friends, or ye, an
unrepentant rake?”
Rake? He wasn’t a rake by any stretch of the imagination. “I would hope
it is me, and that yer not callin’ my honor into question.”
She tilted her head and frowned. “Not honor. I wouldna think to do so.”
At least she thought he had honor. His sisters, on the other hand, had
a lot to answer for.
“I just doona think ye can help yerself.”
“What?” Did she think he ran around kissing and caressing unsuspecting
ladies, one after the other?
“I think ye like ladies and if ye’re of a mind to be kissin’, ye kiss
them.”
Is that what she thought just happened? He simply felt like kissing her
and now he’d move on? “I can assure ye that I doona go around kissin’ lasses
just because it seems like a good idea in the moment.”
“Ah ha, but ye do go around kissin’ them?”
“Aye. Nay.” He stomped away from her and thrust his fingers through his
hair. This was not what was supposed to happen next. “It isna what ye think.”
“Then what is it?”
Blast, how could he explain when he wasn’t so certain himself? He did
like lasses, all lasses, but Davina was different. “I dinna ken what I was
wantin’.” Somehow he knew that explanation was not going to suffice.
“And ye do now?” she asked incredulously.
“Aye!” He turned around and marched right back to her. “Ye. I want ye.”
Davina blinked up at him. “I wish I could believe ye, but I willna have
my heart broken, Ian Grant. How can I be certain that next week ye willna tire
of kissin’ me and find another?”
“Because I willna,” Ian ground out.
Davina sucked in a breath. “Then prove it.”
“How the blazes can I prove somethin’ like that?”
“By not kissin’ anynone else, of course.”
Well, that should be easy enough. There wasn’t a lass within five
counties that he had ever wanted to kiss besides Davina.
“In London.”
He jerked at her words. “London?”
“Aye.” She lifted her chin. “If ye can enjoy the Season without kissin’
and dancin’ then I’ll ken ye willna break my heart.
“Ye want me to go to London? Now?”
“Or ye willna be kissin’ me again.”
“I’m not goin’ to go off to London to prove myself.”
“Then I guess we’ve reached an impasse.” With that, she picked her bow
up off the ground and marched past him, toward the manor.
