As he followed her from the kitchen, she turned to explain they would go back through the shop. She didn’t want him to run into her son, who generally used the apartment entrance. But she ran into a brick wall—a warm, inviting brick wall with more muscle than she remembered.
Her fingers curled against his chest, longing to trace the new lines that had appeared on his handsome face since she’d last seen him. It had taken all the strength within her not to fling herself at this man when she’d opened the door. Her Rabbie, come back. How many times had she dreamed of such a thing? What would he think if he knew of Fin? But it could never be, for then Fin would know she had lied about their past.
Looking up at those brown- and gold-flecked eyes, his breath brushed her cheeks, his familiar scent assaulting her memory. A cologne with rosemary and mint and something else—she couldn’t remember what he’d called it. But when her gaze caught on his mouth, she recalled their kisses and more, flooding her with a passion she’d almost forgotten. She reached up a finger and traced his lips. The heat roaring to life frightened her and brought her to her senses. She tried to push away, knowing she was on dangerous ground, but he clasped her hands tightly against him.
He dipped his head, brushed his lips across hers, and she knew she was lost. A tremor of yearning shook her to the core. Her hands went around his neck, remembering the silky curls at the base, as his mouth claimed hers. No gentle caresses now. The pent-up desire of fifteen years erupted between them. It was a clash of tongue and teeth, her fingers sliding up the back of his head, fingers entwining his hair, pulling his head closer. His hands moved along her sides, brushing her breasts, then glided up and down her back. The same yet different. Wonderful yet terrifying.
She pulled back, ending their kiss but longing for his touch. This man needed to leave. “Oh, Rabbie. I dinna ken—”
“If you’re sending me away, please, just one more kiss. A kiss to last me a lifetime.”
She reached up and pushed a rogue strand of hair from his forehead. “That’s a verra long time.”
Annis cupped his face with both hands, reached up on her toes, and kissed him softly. Her fingers trailed down his jaw as she stepped away. “I wish our time together had turned out differently. But we’ve chosen other paths, altered the life which might have been. I have a business here, and ye’re a barrister, working in London.”
He nodded, his hands still lightly holding her hips. “I took a month off. Anthony is staying with his grandfather after this term, so I thought I’d earned a holiday.”
“Anthony?”
“My son.”
Her heart fell. Annis stepped away, watching Rabbie’s arms fall to his sides.
“He’s a fine boy, although he’s not mi—”
She knew the fury brewing in her belly was unreasonable, but the thought of raising Fin while he nurtured another son was too much. A dog howled outside, reminding Annis that her son and Mac would be home soon. Turning her back on him, she cringed at the ice in her voice.
“Ye must go. I have much to do before I leave. Thank ye for coming, but I canna see ye again.” Annis opened the door, her back against the wall as she waited for him to take the stairs to the shop, her gaze glued to the floor.
“May I write?”
She closed her eyes to the pleading tone that at one time had been impossible to deny. “Nay, I dinna think it would be a good idea.”
“Annis,” he whispered, his hand reaching out, a knuckle trailing down her cheek to wipe away a tear she hadn’t realized was there. “Please, I want to see you again. I’m a better man than the one you knew before. Let me court you, make you fall in love with me all over again. A fresh start.”
Annis leaned into the slight touch, wishing with all her heart it was so simple. They had both made choices which would haunt them till death. “There is no such thing as a clean slate. I’m happy ye’re now free to live yer life as ye choose. But that life canna be with me. I’m sorry.” She stared at his dusty boots, knowing if she looked into those intense eyes she would be lost again.
The footsteps faded along with her resolve. Annis sank to the floor, dropped her head in her hands, and sobbed. She cried for the foolish young lovers they had been. She cried for the passion she would never experience again, for there was only Rabbie in her heart. She cried for Fin, who would only know an invented likeness of a father. She cried for Rabbie who would never have the joy of seeing his beautiful, intelligent, caring son grow into a man.
When the tears subsided, she raged against the wicked earl who dictated a son according to his own selfish whims. She raged against the son who had not stood against that earl. Then she raged the loudest at fate for throwing Rabbie in her path a second time. To have a taste of bliss, then be denied the time to savor it, was beyond cruel.
“Ma, I’ve got everything on yer list,” called Fin on his way up the stairs. Mac scratched at the door as he waited for his master to open it.
Annis jumped up and wiped at her face. She rushed into the kitchen, busying herself in front of the hearth so he wouldn’t see her swollen eyes. “Set it all on the table, mo luran. Ye’re a good lad to do so much for yer mother.”
She could feel his grin behind her. “It isna much, Ma. And it’s what a mon does when he’s mon of the house.”
Her heart ached at his words. Her boy should have never been the “mon of the house” at his age. Resentment stirred in her breast as she thought of Rabbie’s son. Another boy who had all the advantages of a fine English family, never knowing a childhood without two parents.
Dinna indulge in self-pity. Ye both have a fine life in front of ye. Look to the future.
“Aunt Sorcha and Uncle Donald will pick us up in the morning. Ye’re still set on bringing Mac with ye?” she asked, her natural optimism returning. “The Scottish deerhounds willna scare him?”
“Mac isna afraid of anything, Ma. He doesna ken he’s a wee pup. He thinks he’s as big as or bigger than any deerhound.” Fin came up behind her and placed a kiss on her cheek. “I canna wait to see Grandda. He thought I’d grown the last visit. Wait until I stand eye to eye with him.”
“Dinna be disappointed if Da himself is taller than ye remember.” Oh, this boy was the light in her life. She turned then and hugged him. Perhaps a little too hard.
“Are ye well, Ma? Yer eyes dinna look so good,” he said, putting up with the fierce squeeze from his mother.
“I got smoke in my eyes when I was stoking the embers. I’m fine.” Annis kissed his cheek. Fin made any sacrifice, any sorrow worth the hurt. She changed the subject. “I wonder what the MacNaughtons have planned for the summer solstice?”
“Last year was braw. Grandda made the most gigantic bonfire the MacNaughton had ever seen in his life,” he exclaimed, his hazel eyes taking on more green than brown in his excitement. “I’m staying up to see the sunrise this time.”
“Ye say that every year.” She laughed and poked his chest lightly. He’d already made her heart feel lighter. “But I wish ye luck. Now go and check what I’ve packed and add whatever else ye may need. We’ll be gone a month.”
The afternoon had been a disaster. Robert poured himself a brandy and sat in a chair overlooking Trongate. He watched men on horseback, carriages, and wagons maneuver to avoid each other on the busy street below. A costermonger sold hand pies across from the hotel to passing pedestrians, and his stomach growled. He might drink his supper tonight.
Think! There has to be a way.
After seeing Annis Craigg—Mrs. Porter, he reminded himself—Robert knew he couldn’t give up. Seeing her again had only increased his feelings tenfold. She had responded to his kiss, his touch. Returned the passion. But how could he convince her to give their love another chance?
Simple courting wouldn't do it. Annis wasn’t a woman tempted by material things. Unless… the items were sentimental. He began making a mental list of her favorites. Then after his second brandy, he decided to write them down. He moved to the desk at the opposite end of the room, pulled a sheet of paper from the drawer, and dipped his pen in the ink.
Ways to woo Annis
chocolate drops
tulips (check hothouses)
picnics
fast reels
poetry
a good joke or riddle
As he began plotting a way to woo back the love of his life, he realized with annoyance that she would be gone. How long? He needed some time to plan. Anthony would be staying the summer again with his maternal grandfather after the two had hit it off last year. So, he needn’t worry about his son. He hadn’t scheduled any cases, knowing he was coming to Glasgow. His next appearance in court wasn’t until August.
Mrs. Douglas. Yes, she was the key. If he could convince her of his pure intentions (that made him chuckle as he thought of the earlier kiss), she would be instrumental in winning over Annis. Having a strategy in place, Robert eased back in his chair, satisfied. He was methodical by nature. The only impulsive act he could remember was falling in love with Annis. The last time he’d thought with his heart. Perhaps he needed to utilize that organ more in this endeavor.
Robert decided he would visit Books and Bits every day. Make himself useful to Mrs. Douglas, show her he was a good man. If she realized how much he loved Annis and would love her child as his own, then she may become his ally.
He thought of his father, the angry red face, the trembling jowls when he’d learned Robert was leaving London.
“I understand you’re leaving for Scotland next week?” his father asked in a pleasant tone.
Robert knew better. “Yes, Father.”
“To visit that Scottish aunt of yours?”
“Partly.” Robert almost relished the argument to come.
“How long will you be away?”
“I don’t know. It depends on what I find.”
“What are you looking for?” The marquess’s eyes narrowed, waiting for the answer he didn’t want to hear.
“We both know what I’m looking for. I’ve done my duty for this family. Now, I’m going to try to salvage the happiness I threw away so long ago.”
“You can’t go looking for some chit you were infatuated with as a pup.”
“Oh, but I can. And I shall.” He smiled at the red splotches creeping up his father’s neck.
“I won’t allow it. You will not—”
“You have no say in the matter. I am a man grown, a successful barrister, who has made his own way. A member of the Honourable Society of Lincoln’s Inn. Your disapproval will not hinder my career at this point. I’ve earned my reputation without your help.”
“You would throw away all you’ve accomplished for a Scottish whore?”
“Enough!” Robert was across the room in three strides, standing over his father, a lethal quietness to his tone. “If you ever speak poorly of her again, I will plant a facer hard enough to break that meddling nose of yours and possibly a few teeth to keep it company. Do your worst if you dare.”
“What about your… Have you considered Anthony?”
“Have you ever considered him? You barely tolerate him, knowing his parentage.” Robert snorted. “I had to explain his grandfather was a cold fish to everyone, not to take it personally.”
“I am a marquess. You shall treat me with respect.”
“Respect is earned, my lord.” Robert closed his eyes, then took in a deep breath, praying for the willpower not to put his fist in his father’s face. “If you wish to continue any form of father-son relationship, you will cease your objections. Otherwise, I will be forced to alienate myself from you in all ways. Of course, it would mean informing the solicitors that I cannot take on any pleas for any of their clients connected to you. I can only imagine the fodder it could inspire for the broadsheets.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” sputtered his father.
“With a smile on my face.”
The marquess had left then, offended and in a rage, the slamming door reverberating against the paneled walls of Robert’s library. It was a conversation he had replayed in his head several times, enjoying the memory more each time.
He rubbed his hands together, readying for the presentation of his next case. Robert was once again in his element, discovering facts, uncovering the truth, and luring the witness into admitting what she tried to hide. Annis wouldn’t stand a chance once he put his legal mind to the task. But first, he needed to lay the foundation for his case, beginning with a visit to Book and Bits. Poor Mrs. Douglas was about to become embroiled in a litigation of love.