Lydia woke stiff and weary, her arm aching. She moved and then stilled as she realized she was completely naked. Memories came back to her in bits and pieces, but one thing was startlingly clear: she’d been completely naked last night and had made love with Brodie.
She shivered—not from embarrassment, but from the delicious memory of the overpowering pleasure that she’d shared with him.
That night had been infinitely more wonderful than she’d ever imagined it could be. The way her body had fit to his, how she’d felt as though she were a part of him and he of her. It had been incredible. She rolled over in bed, wishing to cuddle against him, but she found his spot empty. She swept a hand over the other pillow. A hint of warmth still lingered there, which meant he’d only recently left. It made her strangely giddy to think that he’d spent the night beside her. She buried her face in his pillow, breathing in the remnants of his scent.
Then she lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling. She was still lost in silly daydreams when the door opened and Fanny appeared.
“How are you feeling, miss?” the maid asked.
“Better. A little sore, though. My arm, I mean.” She sat up, keeping the bedclothes pulled up around her body. “Do you know where Mr. Kincade is?”
Fanny retrieved bits of clothing from the floor. “Yes, he’s downstairs with Mr. Lennox. They both wished to check on the horses after last night, to make sure no one stole them. After those brigands kidnapped you, he said he would be surprised if they didn’t have men here who would steal their horses during the night.”
“Oh dear, I hadn’t thought of that.” Lydia forced herself out of bed. She and Fanny searched for clean gowns in her trunk.
“Well, what about this one?” Fanny held up a fine bright-orange gown that had a blue silk sash and capped sleeves. Rosettes of white were patterned on the hem, but other than that, the gown’s bold colors needed no additional ornamentation. She and the maid shared a smile.
“Excellent choice, Fanny.”
Half an hour later, Lydia was dressed and ready to leave. As she entered the taproom, she glanced about. A tall, thin man was working at the bar, and he snapped his fingers at a maid, who bustled over to Lydia to see if she needed anything.
“What do you have for breakfast?”
“Just porridge, miss,” the girl said with a little embarrassment.
“That would be fine, thank you.” She sat alone in the room, wondering when the men would return from the stables and whether they had eaten already.
She was halfway through her porridge by the time they came in. Rafe and Brodie were laughing about something, and Lydia’s stomach fluttered with excitement. Brodie seemed so happy and relaxed. He really was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, and his easy smile just now only deepened that belief.
Rafe, however, spotted her first. “Ah! Morning, kitten.”
“Good morning, Mr. Lennox.” She glanced between the two of them as they joined her at the table. Brodie’s smile faded a little as he sat down beside her, but he didn’t look angry.
“How is your arm?” he asked.
“A little sore. Fanny helped me clean and bandage it.”
“Good. I’m glad the lass has a strong stomach.”
“She does. There was a bit of blood, and she kept calm.” Lydia imagined she would have been faint at the sight of blood, but she had been in such a state of shock last night that she hadn’t gotten lightheaded, and now she’d become used to living with the injury.
“I wish we could remain longer to let you rest, but I would feel better if we reached Edinburgh soon, should you need to see a doctor.”
Lydia didn’t disagree. She didn’t have the least bit of desire to stay here so close to where those men had taken her.
“Have you eaten?” she asked them.
“Aye, half an hour ago,” Brodie confirmed. “If you finish up, we can pack and leave.”
He stood and went upstairs, leaving her alone with Rafe.
Rafe propped his chin on his hand and flashed her a puckish grin. “Well, let’s hear about it, kitten.”
“I beg your pardon?” She set her spoon inside her empty bowl.
“Oh, come now,” Rafe chuckled. “You and the Scot. You and he tangled the sheets. The walls aren’t exactly thick here.”
Her face flooded with a firestorm of heat. “Mr. Lennox! You cannot speak of such things.”
“Why not? Despite my public façade, I’ve never claimed to be a gentleman. Besides, there’s no one to overhear us.” He waved a hand around the empty room.
“That may be the case, but I don’t wish to speak of it.”
“It was that bad? Such a pity. I should have gone after you myself. I can promise you—you would have adored sharing my bed.”
Lydia raised a brow. “Aren’t you busy enough with Fanny?”
“Fanny?” he asked.
“My new maid? I saw her leave your room yesterday morning.”
“Oh yes, her. That was just once. We had our fun, but she’s taking her post as your maid far too seriously and won’t come back to my bed now.”
“You poor thing,” Lydia retorted.
“Aha! So you do have claws!” He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, kitten, you are too sweet. Well, because you delight me, I’ll tell you this. You have the Scot tied up in knots. He thoroughly enjoyed last night, a bit too much even. Whatever you are doing, I suggest you keep it up, my dear. I want to see how the fellow handles it.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why does this amuse you? He is your friend. Shouldn’t you be trying to help him?”
“Kitten, there is one thing you should know about me. The thing I take pleasure in, the only thing, is making this drab existence we call life more interesting. And so far, you and Brodie have been most entertaining.” With a knowing smirk, Rafe got up to see to the coach.
“Are all men so blasted frustrating?” she muttered to herself.
“Only the best ones,” Rafe answered over his shoulder, his ears far sharper than she’d realized.
Lydia left a few coins that Brodie had given her for the barmaid on the table and joined Rafe outside. She took her seat and waited for the gentlemen to join her, but only Brodie got into the coach.
“Is Mr. Lennox riding on the top seat or is he riding a horse alongside us?” she asked.
“He’s up top for a little while. He doesn’t mind sitting with his servants. We should be in Edinburgh in two hours, hopefully.”
“Oh, that’s a relief. I don’t think I can stand much more of this coach.” She shot a hopeful look at him. “I don’t suppose you have any more books?”
“Aye.” He reached under his seat, and she browsed the handful he held out, choosing a book on the history of Stuart England. She began to read, but after a short while she became aware of Brodie watching her.
“You aren’t reading?” she asked. Her voice was huskier than she wished it to be.
“No, I’m afraid I’m too distracted, lass,” he answered, his voice deep and almost silky.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I cannot understand you, Mr. Kincade. This morning you would barely speak to me at breakfast, you did not even stay in bed with me—”
She squeaked in surprise as he lunged for her. When he captured her in his arms, he pulled her onto his lap. He was careful not to touch the arm where she’d been injured.
“Hush, lass, let a man have what he wants. Why do you think I was so ready to be off? The sooner we reach Edinburgh, the sooner I can have you all to myself in a proper bedchamber where no one will bother us for days, except to bring us food.”
Lydia stared at him. “Days?”
“Days,” he echoed as he cupped her neck and urged her to lean into him so he could brush his lips over hers.
She surrendered to his kiss, and he managed to distract her from all other thoughts. He moved his mouth to her neck, gently scraping his teeth along her skin before he nipped her. She jolted as a sharp pang of need shot straight to her womb.
“Be bad with me, Lydia. Let me show you a way to pass the hours ahead.” He murmured the tempting words in her ear, and she found herself nodding eagerly before she could stop herself. He slid his hands up her skirts, teasing her calves and her thighs, and she wriggled on his lap. When he reached the apex of her thighs, she wanted to beg him to hurry, but he took his time. He unfastened his trousers and urged her to lift her hips. Then he was pulling her down on his erect shaft. The sudden sensation from this new angle was so very different than the previous night when he had lain on top of her. She felt fuller sitting on top of him like this.
“What’s the matter, lass?” he whispered as he kissed her.
“This is different than the last time,” she gasped before kissing him back.
“Different how?” He rocked her up and down on him. It was becoming harder and harder to think, with the building pleasure between them.
“It feels full . . . almost too much,” she confessed in a whisper.
He smiled. “Lass, how you flatter me.” He captured her lips again in a raw, open-mouthed kiss, and she buried her hands in his hair, fisting the thick, dark strands as she rolled her hips, feeling him move inside her at the same time.
The gentleness that had begun as an echo of last night gave way to a frantic coupling. Brodie grasped her bottom under her skirts as he lifted her and jerked her down onto him. She broke free of his kiss to gasp and clutch his shoulders as he used her in the most delicious way.
“That’s it,” he growled. “Take your pleasure from me.”
And she did. She circled her hips in a way that felt good and hit all the small secret spots within her, until she reached a glorious peak where there was nothing left for her but to fall back to earth. He followed her over the cliff of ecstasy a moment later and buried his face against her neck.
She breathed his name and cradled his head as they held on to each other for a long while. She didn’t want to pull away. She wanted to stay connected to him as long as she could. But she knew they couldn’t, and when at last he separated them, he used a handkerchief to clean her before he helped fix her skirts. She was more than mortified when she came to her senses and realized what she had done. That she had made love in a coach like some wild, wanton creature.
“Don’t be ashamed.” Brodie pulled her into his side, curling an arm around her shoulders as he comforted her.
“But I am,” she replied. “What we did was . . .”
“Was perfectly natural, lass. We just didna use a bed.” He nuzzled her cheek, his soft laughter easing her embarrassment somewhat. She liked it when he was in a good mood. This was how she’d first pictured him that night of the ball, a charming rogue with no worries.
“Will you show me all the different ways to make love?” She pressed her head under his chin and burrowed into his welcoming warmth.
“Aye. I will,” he promised with a silky chuckle.
“Good, because if I am to be your mistress, I wish to know what all the fuss is about.”
His arms tightened around her body, and he kissed the crown of her hair. “I will make you happy.”
She believed him, even though her heart worried that it wouldn’t last. Rationally, she couldn’t see how it would be possible.
Joanna Kincade was sitting in the drawing room at Castle Kincade with her mother and older brother Ashton, talking about London and all their mutual friends, when a clamor outside had her leaping to her feet in alarm. A young footman burst into the room, his eyes darting around until he found her.
“My lady! An urgent message just arrived from Edinburgh.” He thrust a letter into her hands.
“What is it?” her mother, Regina, asked. She and Ashton came to stand on either side of Joanna.
“I honestly have no idea.” She broke the wax seal and unfolded the urgent missive.
“Read it aloud, my dear,” her mother prompted.
Joanna cleared her throat and began to read.
My dear Lady Kincade,
I write to you of the most dire and urgent of circumstances. I am in Edinburgh with a gentleman named Mr. Jackson Hunt. His eldest daughter, Lydia, has been abducted at knifepoint by Mr. Brodie Kincade, your husband’s brother. We believe that they are bound for Edinburgh, accompanied by your brother, Mr. Rafe Lennox. However, upon our arrival, we found no trace of them at the Lennox residence in Edinburgh. It occurred to me that perhaps Mr. Kincade chanced going to Castle Kincade, but I cannot be sure. Please send a response to the address below as quickly as you can.
Sincerely yours,
Jane Russell
Dowager Marchioness of Rochester
Joanna finished reading the letter and then looked to her older brother and her mother in shock.
“Abducted?” Regina muttered. “But why would Brodie take that poor girl? He is a little wild, perhaps, but then again, he is a Kincade, and we’ve seen how unpredictable they are.”
Ashton scowled and took the letter from Joanna to read it again. As a baron, Ashton should have had the least influence among the League of Rogues, all of whom were members of the peerage, but due to his clever work in the financial markets, he had amassed wealth and power far in excess of his title. And when necessary, he had used that power and influence to do whatever was needed, especially when it came to dealing with Rafe’s actions.
“That bloody fool,” Ashton growled.
“Brodie?” Joanna asked.
“No, Rafe. I have a suspicion our brother is at the root of whatever trouble this is. He’s likely having a good laugh at Brodie’s expense.”
“But why abduct Lydia Hunt? She’s so sweet, and oh, Ash, we must tell Brock and Rosalind. They will know what to do about Brodie.”
“Know what to do about whom?” Rosalind, Ashton’s wife and Brock’s sister, said as she appeared in the doorway.
“It’s your brother, Brodie.” Ashton passed the letter to his wife. Rosalind began to read, and then after a moment, she slid onto the nearest settee and gazed at Ashton in clear confusion.
“I . . . I don’t understand. Who is this woman they say Brodie has taken? What could she have done to him?” Unlike her brothers, Rosalind’s brogue was not nearly as thick. She had been married to an older English gentleman a few years ago and had done her best to assimilate with London society before she’d been widowed. Yet there was still enough of the Scot in her, especially when she was upset, for the brogue to become more pronounced.
“Done to him? Lydia Hunt is a friend of mine. She’s the most wonderful girl. She wouldn’t do anything to Brodie to make him do this,” Joanna said.
Ashton spoke up. “Didn’t you say a few weeks ago that Portia Hunt had set her cap for Brodie?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Rosalind said. “I met the young woman at a party. She had heard rumors of my brothers, and rather than being scared off, she was intrigued. She inquired whether they were unattached. I informed her that Brock is married and Aiden was returning here with me. Only Brodie was to stay behind in Bath.”
Ashton began to pace around the drawing room. “I didn’t have a good feeling about Rafe leaving here so soon. I thought that a stay in the country would keep him out of mischief, but he was eager to return to Bath after just one week here. He must have had a hand in this somehow.”
“Where do you suppose they would go?” Joanna asked.
Rosalind considered the question. “There’s our townhouse in Edinburgh, but Lady Rochester said they had not arrived there. I’m certain they won’t come here,” Rosalind said. “Brodie wouldn’t bring a woman home unless he was planning to marry her. Do you think they stopped at Gretna Green, Ash?” Rosalind asked.
Ashton shrugged. “You know him better than I do, love.”
“I fear Brock and Aiden know him better than me,” Rosalind admitted quietly. “He may have changed since I escaped to London.”
Ashton took the letter back from Rosalind, reading it yet again, as though he could divine some secrets from the page. “Joanna, would you please go find your husband?”
Joanna left the drawing room in search of Brock. Instead, she found Aiden lounging on a window seat in the library, feeding tiny bits of meat to a small owl. Aiden was smiling as he stroked the backs of his fingers over the downy soft feathers of the tawny owl.
“Aiden, do you know where Brock is?”
The owl gave a disgruntled hoot at being disturbed. Aiden turned his attention toward her. “He’s in his study, I think. What’s wrong, Joanna?”
“It’s Brodie. He’s abducted a poor woman and run away with her. He’s headed for Scotland.”
“What?” Aiden stood, and with a click of Aiden’s tongue, the owl hooted and took to the air, returning to its roost on the topmost shelf of the library.
“We received a letter from Lady Rochester, who is traveling with the woman’s father, and they are searching for them. They believe Rafe is with them.”
Aiden’s gaze turned even more serious. “Rafe? Gah. Brodie shouldna be anywhere near him. I like your brother, Joanna, but he is . . .” Aiden was obviously trying to be diplomatic. “Trouble.”
“He is,” Joanna agreed. “But we must find them. They have my friend Lydia.”
Aiden strode past her into the hall and loudly bellowed for Brock. She heard the bang of a distant door and running steps, and then her husband appeared at the top of the grand stairs.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” Brock practically leapt down the stairs, only to stop and pull her into his arms. She melted into him, relishing the way he held her. They’d been through so much together, and she sensed he would never be less protective of her.
“I’m fine, Brock. But we have a problem.”
He pulled back a little to look down at her. “A problem?”
“It’s Brodie. He’s kidnapped my friend Lydia Hunt from Bath. He and Rafe are in Scotland, supposedly headed to Edinburgh.” She quickly filled in the rest of the details for him as Ashton, Regina, Aiden, and Rosalind all gathered around them in the hall.
“Where do you think he would go?” Joanna asked.
“He wouldna come here,” Brock said with certainty. “Not if he knew what was good for him. I don’t know what drove him to do this, but I’ll box his ears for such foolishness.”
“Then he’ll be bound for Edinburgh,” Ashton said. “To my townhouse on the Royal Mile. Lady Rochester and Mr. Hunt must have passed them on the road and arrived early.”
“Perhaps.” Brock was scowling now, enough to match Ashton’s own. “We must leave at once,” he finally said, then turned to his brother. “Aiden, would you remain here, should they choose to come this way?”
Aiden nodded. “I will.”
Brock turned to Ashton. “Are you ready to leave, Sassenach?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Joanna, you and Rosalind, as well as your mother, shall travel in the coach. Ash and I will ride on ahead. We may be able to catch them if there are only two of us.”
“Very well.” Joanna didn’t like to be separated from Brock, but the situation was dire, and it would only mean a day or two of being apart.
She hadn’t yet told him that she suspected she was with child and would not do so now. If she did, she would be left behind. She would wait to tell him, after they had rescued Lydia.