Joanna stared at the bag on her bed. The leather had been oiled by one of the footmen so as to prevent rain from soaking into it and damaging any of the bag's contents."Will it do, miss?" her maid asked. Julia had talked discreetly to one of the footmen she knew, asking him for a bag that would travel well during poor weather. The young man had smartly insisted on preparing the bag for any rain, and Joanna had been incredibly grateful."I think so." Joanna's heart gave a nervous flip as she opened the bag's mouth wider so she could review the contents again. Three days' worth of dresses with ankle-length skirts to avoid mud and dust from the road, and one riding habit, which she'd wear tonight along with her best cloak. Even though it was a warm summer, rain could make anyone cold. Two pairs of sensible boots, one pair of black slippers, three fresh pairs of stockings, and two pairs of chemises and petticoats. She could survive with one set of stays until they reached Scotland and b
Brock woke just after dawn. He glanced down the length of his body with a slow smile. Joanna was pressed flush against him, her womanly curves fitting his body in a way that made him tighten with hunger, but he pushed aside the natural arousal that came from holding a beautiful woman in his arms. There would be plenty of time for that later, once they were married. She was still nervous, as was he. He vowed that when he took Joanna to his bed, they would be far more acquainted and comfortable with one another. Soon they would be tied together for the rest of their lives, yet they barely knew each other. Marriages like this were common enough, of course, but Rosalind had been right. He wanted to know his wife, wanted to truly understand her, and he hoped she felt the same about him.He carefully slipped from her arms and wrapped her up in the rest of his coat before he walked away to relieve himself. When he returned to the grove, he untied the horses and took them to the meadow to gra
Joanna screamed and fought against her captor as Brock crumpled to the ground. The man who had struck him tucked his pistol back into his coat."I'm happy to admit I like this bloke better unconscious," the man grumbled, and then he glanced at Joanna, his dark-brown eyes curious."Pretty bird," he commented, still assessing Joanna. She shivered."And not for you." The man who held her now dragged her forcefully into the room behind them and slammed the door shut. She was shoved into a chair by the fire, and her wrists were freed from the rope. Then the man poured her a glass of wine and pushed it into her shaking hands. She took it, staring down at the contents, and started to raise it up to throw it back in his face, but then he spoke."Just drink, Joanna, for God's sake. You've put me through hell tonight."She blinked, her gaze frozen in confusion as the man removed his hat and mask. Her mouth dropped open."Rafe?"Her brother grinned as though a magician had conjured him out
Brock took a small bite of mutton from a plate on the table. He had decided to eat a little once he and Rafe started talking. He was still too wound up to sleep right away, even though he knew he needed his rest if they were to finish their mad dash to Gretna Green."You'll have to move fast tomorrow," Rafe said as though reading his mind.Brock leaned back in his chair. "Aye. I'm planning on your brother being right on our heels. If we'd had a coach, I would've changed horses every four hours the entire way without stopping, but I couldna risk taking the main road."Rafe chuckled. "You're smarter than I would've expected." Brock was struck by the similarities between Rafe and Ashton. In looks alone, the two men were close enough to be twins, yet despite the years between them, they couldn't have been more different in their manners and thoughts."I'll take that as a compliment, Lennox." Brock smiled at Rafe, and they shared another bit of the fine whiskey Falworth had acquired.R
Joanna stretched languidly in bed, forgetting for a brief moment where she was and how she'd come to be there. She opened her eyes at the sound of a rumbling male voice nearby and bolted upright, staring about the sparsely furnished bedroom in the little hunting lodge. The events of the night before came back to her. Someone knocked on her door."Time to wake up, Joanna," Rafe called. "Kincade is seeing to your horses. You have time to eat some breakfast, and then you must leave.""I'm awake," she called and climbed out of bed. For the first time in two days her body wasn't stiff, and for that she was grateful, yet she felt a twinge of disappointment in not being able to sleep out-of-doors with more ease.Perhaps I am too soft. What if Brock married her and later decided he wanted a stronger, more hardy Scottish lady, someone who could sleep with him outside beneath the stars without complaint?No, don't think like that. He chose you; he wants you.She cleaned her teeth, washed he
"Do you wish to bathe, Brock?" she asked. "The water is still warm." She had taken care to wash quickly so he could have warm water if he wanted it. She already dreaded getting out, knowing her damp skin would turn cold. She'd soon be able to put on a dressing gown and perhaps feel the heat of her husband's body when he held her against him.Brock's eyes locked on hers as he picked up her dressing gown and came over. Her senses came alive as she realized she was about to stand up from the bathtub completely naked before him."Eryes. Thank you," he replied. He held the gown for her and then turned his head. She climbed out of the tub and slipped into the gown, then moved around him carefully, toward the heat of the fire and away from the very different heat between them. As she started to comb through her hair, she listened for his every movement, keeping her face turned away out of respect for the privacy he'd shown her. But oh how she longed to have a peek.He splashed around a bit
Brock held his new wife in his arms, a quiet peace filling him. They had managed to enjoy a peaceful night's sleep at the inn as man and wife. Late morning sun boldly illuminated the room. Brock knew he should have gotten up and roused Joanna from her slumber, but they'd traveled so hard the last few days that she deserved to rest. And he couldn't resist enjoying her like this.She was nestled against him, his arms around her, pulling her tighter to him. Having been inside her, sharing himself with her and she with him, the idea of putting any distance between them now was unfathomable. Merely holding her while his lips occasionally dropped kisses onto the damp curls of her head, filled him with a peace he'd never before experienced and never imagined he would feel.The scars left behind from his father's violence were still there, marring him inside and out. He still feared, deep down, that he would end up like his father, that he also held that cruelty within him. He feared what wo
Joanna was so angry and upset that she was shaking. This was her wedding day! She should have been enraptured, wrapped in her husband's arms, relishing the intimacy of their bed, the feel of the fire from the fireplace and the wine sweetening Brock's lips as they kissed. She was not supposed to be dealing with her bloody stubborn brother and his nonsensical ideas about what was best for her.When she heard the knock, she thought it was Brock and hastily opened the door. Ashton stood there, one hand flat on the doorjamb. She was half tempted to slam the door on his fingers. They shared a long look, a flurry of emotions passing between them.This should have been a happy reunion, Ashton hugging her tight and accepting her kiss on his cheek while she told him how happy she was. But that was never going to be the case. Instead, there was anger, sorrow, and distrust between them, clouding over the sunny memories of their youth together. She'd often heard that siblings could grow apart ove