Chapter One

Scotland 1827

“I love him,” Gracie Seymor swore beneath her breath understanding she would have to leave the man she hoped to wed.

Even though she just now understood how desperately she loved her soon to be ex-fiancé, he would, given the time, kill her. “I want to marry him. He wants me as his wife.”

Her fingers curled around the diamond studded heart he gave her after the last time he hurt her. He always apologized, always gifted her with something beautiful. Something that spoke of his love for her. Always said he’d never hit her again as well as how very much he regretted his actions. This time, she understood he would never change.

“So, he can have you beneath his thumb. You understand he doesn’t want you to have a life except with him. He means to dictate all your life, every aspect. Isn’t that, right? Every time you’ve done something without his permission or disagreed, that is when he’s turned his fury on you.” Phoebe tapped her long slender finger against her chin.

“Accepting all you say as the truth will not change my mind about Alex. He’s so handsome. His blue eyes steal my breath and make my heart flutter. When he wraps his long arms around me, I always think I’m going to swoon. His kisses…well…let’s just say they make me feel warm and fuzzy all over. I don’t want to leave him.”

“You have to,” Phoebe stated, her voice flat brooking no pending arguments. “If you want to live, leaving is the only viable alternative. Today, even though the timing is all wrong. I don’t like the thought that you will be riding alone through the night.”

“I could take the carriage,” Gracie reasoned as if that might be a practical alternative.

“A carriage the man would recognize. No, you will have to ride as fast as you can. You can take a pistol for protection. You will take refuge with your uncles. They will protect you, shield you if he tries to force the issue. Your father will not do. The man is never home.”

“We both ken how to use a pistol. You’re the better shot,” Gracie mused as she thought about their last competition.

Her father had always wished for a boy. He taught her everything a male would have been taught. Not only did she shoot well, she also dabbled in sword play with her father. They read together all the philosophies debating each one. The sciences fascinated her.

Phoebe Killingworth, ever the practical one when relationships were considered, spoke with a soft tone appearing to understand the distress she felt. “You must leave now. The message said he would be here early tomorrow morning to bring you back to the city. It is my best guess that your viscount has left Glasgow. If you are quick about it, you can be with your uncles in the city before he can form a protest or stop you. As I pointed out, they will protect you. They both dislike the man.”

“Yes…and they will lecture me about the viscount, the man I love. It’s deucedly hard to hear. Over three months ago the two of them warned me to stay away. Told me he had a certain reputation where women were concerned. I didn’t listen. Ignored their good counsel. Told my uncles he was a sweet man. While I ignored the first bruises he gave me, I believed him when he told me he would never hurt me again.”

“You should have done so. If you had, you would not have suffered as much at his touch. You would never have fallen head-over-heels in love with an unsuitable man. He is not suitable. You do understand that salient fact.”

“You are going to lecture me too. I’ve quite heard enough.”

Gracie inhaled a deep breath wishing Alexander would not explode with rage at the least little faux pas. So far in their tumultuous relationship, he had given her two black eyes and a broken rib among other injuries. The broken rib was the reason she retired to the country for healing as well as thinking. She understood some decisions would need to be made. She was afraid to be around the man when his fury overcame his good sense. It seemed to her at times he was angry about everything.

“When Alex is not angry, he is so sweet and kind, so very considerate. He always thinks of me first.” She touched the necklace he gave her after the first black eye. He had their names engraved on the back of the gold heart that was trimmed with diamonds. When she arrived here, at Phoebe’s home, she was indecisive. The two of them would never be suitable. She was too wild and willful. Alex needed a mate who would bend to his every whim. Do all he ordered. Her thoughts didn’t change the fact that the decision was difficult to make. Didn’t change the fact that when he was sweet, he was very, very sweet. Gracie didn’t think any woman could bend enough to escape his fists. He would always find something wrong with what the woman did.

“You are dallying,” Phoebe said with patience Gracie didn’t see in her friend’s eyes. “Please do not tell me you’ve changed your mind again. You are wearing me out with your dithering.”

“I have not. It’s just that I’m…no everything will be fine. There have been no tales of highwaymen in these parts. There is no danger. The ride will take a few hours, no more. I’ve ridden longer most every day of my life.”

“It is safe. Many would say that you would prove more dangerous than the people you might encounter on the road.”

Phoebe was laughing at her jest, yet her mouth pressed together in a thin line.

“I see nothing funny in what you say. I know I’m a bit wild. This isn’t the first time I’ve ridden to Glasgow by myself. Most likely won’t be the last,” Gracie mumbled as she downed the last of her wine.

The time would be after midnight when she arrived. That part was infinitely different. She sipped in a long breath of air as she marched to the window overlooking the gardens. The sun was still high on the horizon. It would not dip beneath the crags for another hour. She could cover quite a bit of the distance before darkness overtook the roads. Phoebe was right. She did need to hurry. The longer she dallied here, the longer she would have to ride in the dark.

Phoebe pointed a shaking finger at her, a smile now easing the thin line of her mouth. “Go upstairs. I’ll help you pack a small bag you can take with you. I will have the rest of your clothing sent to your uncles’ home. Go now! Go, before both of us experience a change of heart. If you are here when your soon to be ex-fiancé arrives, you will regret not leaving now. He will have you trapped.”

Understanding she truly had to leave in the ensuing minutes even though the hour was growing late, hiking her skirts to her knees, Gracie ran upstairs. Winded, she surveyed her clothing, taking a few necessities. In a few minutes, she was downstairs, accepting good wishes from her friend along with the words that spoke of haste. “You are not to stop for any reason. Ride straight through as if the hounds of hell are on your heels. You must reach Glasgow before the sun rises.”

“I love him,” she said again as if the words would change her mind or her friend’s feelings. They wouldn’t.

When she realized her thoughts for Alex, she had filled with jubilation, thinking love was such a fine emotion. After that all her dreams exploded in pain coupled with humiliation.

What was left for her? She was twenty-two. While she wasn’t horse-faced, she was on the shelf. What man would want a woman of her advanced age? Perhaps she’d been too eager to fall into his waiting arms. Maybe she looked the other way when he first showed his true colors. Marrying for love had always been her dream. She believed in true love. Thought she loved the man. The last few years, she assumed she would never meet a man she could fall in love with.

That was when Alex stepped into her life, all smiles and muscles, the gentlest soul she ever met. He was whipcord lean. His kisses warmed her. His eyes always shimmered when he wanted to kiss her. Changing from the usual ghost blue to a darker more vibrant color. Except for those few explosive times when he lost his temper, he’d always been tender.

As the minutes ticked by and she hadn’t left, Phoebe was shaking her finger at her, the look in her beautiful brown eyes stern. “You cannot afford to love that man. He will be the death of you. We both understand that for a fact. I cannot bear to be your nursemaid every time he loses his temper. You always come to me rather than allowing your father to see the injuries. You know his title means nothing to you.” Phoebe sipped more air before she spoke again. “Now, stay off the main roads. With your eyes closed, you ken the way. If your fiancé has had a change of plans, you might run into him. That wouldn’t be good. If you hear a carriage or another horse, get off the road then hide in the trees until the vehicle passes.”

Gracie struggled with Phoebe’s calm words. There was still a part of her that wished to accept his apology and believe he would never hurt her again. “When you’re right, I hate it. I won’t stop for any reason. Will take every care to avoid traffic.”

Gracie hugged her friend. A few minutes later she was on her mare, headed toward the city. Her heart raced as she stared down the long drive that led from Phoebe’s country home. The trip would take her most of the evening. If she didn’t encounter problems, she should be at her uncle’s home after midnight. She would have to explain to Jason and Jasper why she needed their help. They would be furious. She would also have to find a means to make certain neither uncle acted against the viscount. Their tempers were hot.

What she did tonight was foolish. She and Phoebe both understood this action was the lesser evil. She could not afford to have Alex take her back to the city. Could not afford to bring down his wrath again. If they stayed together, doing so was inevitable. She would always act impulsively, risking the anger that could rise with a swiftness that surprised. Despite all the apologies her fiancé gave her, he always hurt her when he grew incensed with something she did or said. He lashed out before he thought. After that he would make amends as if that made a difference.

A soft sigh rippled from her lips as she urged her little mare into a brisk trot. If she kept her mind focused on the fact, she had to stay strong, the journey might not take too long. She would be on the road for about six hours. As if she heard something or perhaps it was nerves, she turned to look behind her. Only shadows whispered across the drive behind her. Phoebe’s home was shaded in darkness. Behind the stately mansion, white clouds billowed ever higher ghosting the sunset.

An eerie feeling catapulted through her. Shivers swept down her spine sending goose bumps to her arms. A premonition that something was about to go horribly awry swamped her. She berated herself. Tried to force the sensation out of her head. Told herself she was acting silly. This was not the time to second guess herself or her intentions. Focusing on her future, she let her mind wander. The down side of all her musings was that her mind didn’t travel in the direction of the future. It circled around her until all she could think of was the haunting past that sent her riding down country roads in the middle of the night.

The image strong in her mind, she recalled the first time he hurt her. They were at the Ramsey’s ball. He told her how beautiful she looked. She danced with him once then twice creating a murmur around the room. Dancing with a man twice was scandalous. She liked him. Thought him handsome. Never thought to fall in love. They’d walked in the park, met for tea. At the ball, Phoebe took her aside. Told her she could not dance with him again this evening. She stared at him as he partnered woman after woman, holding them too close. Even though her dance card was full, she longed to be in his arms. Needed to feel his warmth and strength holding her. She only had eyes for Alex, Alexander McKenzie, Viscount of Belmond.

When Lawrence Littleton waltzed her into a corner to steal a kiss, she’d looked for Alex. Hoped he would come to her rescue. She understood exactly what Larry intended after he pushed her against the wall. Even told him she didn’t want a kiss. The horrible man said her wishes didn’t count for anything. She squirmed trying to dislodge the hold he had upon her. His strength was greater.

Gracie pushed on his chest, beat with her fists on his shoulders. He was immovable. His hand behind her head held her still. When his lips met hers, she gagged. This was not how Alex’s kisses felt. Surprised and startled yet relieved, the man was wrenched away from her. Cold air wafted against her trembling body.

Her gaze met Alex’s. He was angry at her. His eyes darkened with growing fury. When he grabbed her wrist tugging her toward him, his fingers closed tight enough to stop the flow of blood. He yanked her forward, hissing at her, telling her what a little bitch she was. In hindsight, she should have known that very instant they would never suit. Alex pushed her to the coatroom, her hand wrenched behind her back. She was afraid to say anything or cry out for help. A scandal was not something she wanted to deal with. Moisture from the pain as well as the humiliation filled her eyes.

When his carriage arrived, he pushed her inside. To gain balance, her arms whirled. She landed hard on the floor, her one wrist breaking her fall. The bone cracked with a loud snap. She cried out, the pain blasting through her. Her wrist was broken. Now, she couldn’t remember the tirade he graced her with as he ushered her home. What she did recall was that he blamed everything on her. Blamed her for tempting his friend. Accused her of being too beautiful. Faulted her for breathing. It seemed to her as the days passed, she was always the one to blunder.

The next day, he brought her a new pair of gloves to replace the ones she’d been wearing that had been torn by her fall. He apologized for her hurt wrist saying she should have more restraint when it came to other men.

The gust of wind caught her hat, tugging on the strings that were tied beneath her chin. One hand flew to her head to hold the hat down, the other tightened on the reins. She looked to the skies. They were dark, black clouds threatening rain. The sky had not been so dark when she left. The white billowy clouds seemed to have vanished. A storm had been unexpected. She wouldn’t find shelter before the storm hit. Gracie didn’t have time to stop anywhere. There was nowhere to stop.

Urging her mare to a faster pace she hoped to race in front of the tempest, knowing she couldn’t out run the wind and rain. Given enough time, this storm would catch up to her. Gracie dallied too long at Phoebe’s home. She should have left at noon when they first began to discuss what needed to be done. When they received the message Alex was on his way to meet her then bring her home, she should have left. Because she took refuge at Phoebe’s home, he disapproved of her actions. He would find some way to cause her pain. Rain never hurt anyone. True, she would be wet and cold by the time her uncles’ home came into view. Nothing would be broken. Nor would any part of her sport bruises. She would still be alive.

The first thing she would do would be to order a warm bath and some hot mulled wine…some food too. Her stomach growled needing sustenance. She’d not eaten lunch. Now, it would be well past the dinner hour by the time she reached home.

Hindsight told her she should have packed bread and cheese to nibble on when she rode. Retrospection could tell her a great deal. One of which was that she should have called the engagement off with Alex before she fell in love with him. Should have cancelled it the first time he hit her. What she didn’t understand was how she could ever fall in love with a man who physically as well as mentally abused her. He mistreated her in other ways too. It was easier to discount his insults than it was the injuries to her person.

An hour later the rain hit, poured in what seemed like never-ending fat, icy drops. The wind seemed to whip the huge thick drops sideways to pelt her face. She drew her cloak tight around her, lifting the hood to settle atop her hat. All she could think of was the nice hot bath waiting for her and that cup of mulled wine. It was those thoughts that kept her going.

Turning off the side road she travelled earlier, she took another route. No one would see or find her here. The road was canopied by thick branches. While the rain still fell the drops no longer pelted her from the side. Another blast of wind caught her broadside causing Gracie to almost slip from her horse. She clutched at the mare’s mane, holding her breath. If she huddled close to the long neck, the wind was not so bad. All around her the howling of the night sent chills down her spine. An animal dashed across the road in front of her. The mare reared. Desperate not to find herself on the ground, she clung to whatever she could grab hold of. By the time she calmed the animal, she was breathing hard, terrified of the weather. She might come to regret this impulsive decision to venture forth by herself. Phoebe would tell her the choice wasn’t reckless. It was necessary.

A bolt of lightning ripped through the dense foliage, hitting a nearby tree, splintering the trunk into two parts. Terrified by the noise as well as the blinding light, her horse reared again, whinnied in fright. A loud crack brought a tree branch down across the road even while smoke and fire rimmed the tree. The roar of thunder followed, bombing through the dark night. Franny sidestepped, whickering her displeasure. The horse pranced, the little mare’s nerves splintering.

“Easy, girl. Everything will be fine.” I’m afraid too.

Gracie ran her hand along the horse’s neck hoping to ease fears. Dismounting, she led Franny to what she hoped was a sheltered spot where the canopy of branches was thick. The next gust of wind sent her pummeling backward, arms whirling to keep her feet on the ground. Frantic to remain on her feet, she clung to the nearest tree. Another branch fell to the ground. As she moved to avoid the limb, she was struck hard from behind.

Blackness. Secret darkness surrounded her, enveloped her mind while she felt as if she floated in a whirl of clouds. She saw Alex. Watched as he moved with slow steps through the hazy space. She should have been able to duck. Should have avoided the blow that sent her head snapping to the side then spinning. This time she didn’t understand his anger. What, besides speaking her mind, had she done wrong? Every little thing she said or did, displeased him. It seemed he grasped at anything so he could discipline her. Discipline, that’s what he called it.

Speeding through her foggy brain, it seemed she saw all the times he hit her or kicked her after he tossed her to the ground. She cowered; knees drawn to her chest in fright. This was all wrong, horribly wrong. She should be almost to Glasgow. Should be warm and dry soon. If she stayed at Phoebe’s… No, staying at her friend’s home was not a possibility. He knew how to find her if she remained there. She needed to hide in a safe place. Somewhere he couldn’t get to her. He would be furious with what she did.

She pushed off the cold soggy ground, weak, terrified. Her head pounded, throbbed with the pulsing of her blood. With eyes so bleary she could barely see, she stood on wobbly knees. Stumbled. Gracie braced herself against an oak tree, leaning against the rough bark while she waited for the strength needed to put one foot in front of the other.

Turning, so her back was against the tree, she yelled. “Franny!” Gracie called out in a hoarse voice. There was no resounding nicker, no sound of the clop of hooves. The only noise was the thundering of the storm around her. Searing blue-white light lit up the sky. Thunder rolled down from the sky.

Her mare was gone. Fled home, no doubt. She supposed Franny had gone back to Phoebe’s for a dry stall as well as fresh oats. As she faced the sky, she discovered the rain had nearly ceased. That didn’t matter as she was soaked through to the skin as well as covered in mud. She must look affright. What was she to do now? She couldn’t walk all the way to Glasgow. It seemed she didn’t have a choice. Fate or the weather, intervened.

Heading down the old rutted road, she understood she needed to keep moving. She walked and walked for what seemed as if hours passed. Far in the distance a light shone from a large building. The brightness beckoned to her, inviting her to its warmth perhaps a meal. She wrapped her arms around her shivering wet and cold body. No meal for her. As far as she knew she had no groats.

Warmth…Heat…

Someplace dry. Nothing would stop her. She could make promises.

Soggy mud sucked at her boots. Twice she fell to her hands. Twice she wiped mud from her fingers using her cloak. When she reached the building the chatter of people told her she would find help. Staring at the building, she prayed someone would come to her aide. The fleeting thought she had money flitted through her head. If she did have groats, where were they? What did she have that she could pay the proprietor with so she could purchase a room for the night? Food? A bath? Nothing. She had nothing. As far as anyone here knew, as far as she knew, she was destitute, poor, perhaps even homeless. Was she? That fact didn’t seem true.

Hoping to avoid a wealth of questions, she walked to the back entrance thinking that in her condition it was best not to walk through the front door lest someone toss her out before she could explain what she needed. She knocked. Then knocked again, hoping she would be heard this time.

A large woman with ruddy cheeks and gray streaked hair opened the door. Her hands were placed on her ample hips. She appeared angry with her. After a moment of staring at her, the woman pointed her stubby finger at her. “Tilly, you’re late. Look at you. You’re a mess. I know there was a storm, but… Before you can see to any customer’s needs, you need a bath. Why did you seek this position if you mean to be so slovenly? You won’t get top dollar looking as if you came from the worst streets in Glasgow. Though you are a pretty little thing. Got a man waitin’ on you.” The woman grabbed her elbow then ushered her to a corner of the kitchen.

Tilly, was that her name? She had no recollection but it didn’t sound right. She didn’t feel like a Tilly. She didn’t know what name would suit.

Gracie knew she was a mess but she wasn’t Tilly. Couldn’t be Tilly. She started to explain but was stopped short when the woman began to undress her. Batting at the woman’s hands, she tried to protest the treatment. Still weak from the blow to her head, she couldn’t stop what was happening to her. The woman whirled her around, starting with the fastenings of her dress. When her gown dropped to the floor, the woman turned her attention to her corset then her chemise. Heat flooded her face. She tried to cover herself with her hands. The woman was too strong for her.

“You are indeed a pretty little thing. With those sweet bubbies, you’re goin’ to be bringin’ top dollar to this inn.”

“No!” She cried out her protest but her strangled words didn’t stop the woman from devesting her of all her clothing. She was naked. Her hands tried to cover herself. She turned away from the eyes staring at her.

“Get some hot water,” the lady yelled to another girl in the room as she continued her assault on her mud-stained person. “This one needs a bath before she can go out in the main room. Even though she is filthy, she’s a looker. Look at that hair of hers. The woman tugged at her hands. Look at those. Her bubbies…oh my, truly she is going to make some groats for us. Just as we were told. This little lady will provide a handsome income in her spare time. Now, we’ll just finish with this bath then we’ll get you into clothing that is more appropriate for your position. Got just the dress to show off your sweet bubbies. They are a nice size. Fill a man’s hands, they will. A man can cradle these while he rocks you and finds his pleasure.”

The woman pushed her toward the tub in the back of the kitchen.

The hot bath looked welcoming. Steam rose from the liquid. The location was far from welcoming. Her clothing was tossed in a pile of rags near the back door then pitched outside with the garbage. She was pushed into the tub then handed soap. With wide eyes, she watched the enfolding scene as if it was part of the dream she had earlier.

“Wash yourself or I’ll have him do it.”

She sent her thumb toward a man who leered at her from the doorway. His grin promised her that he wouldn’t have any problem doing as he was told.

The woman stood back, her hands once more on her hips. Another man stopped to stare. “She seems a bit missive for a lady of her persuasion, don’t you think?” he asked as he studied her. “Nice firm jewels though.”

Gracie sunk into the tub with her arms crossed over her breasts. She thought to find a way out of this mess. As far as she could tell, there was none. Without her clothing she could never run out of the establishment. This was not her intention when she saw the lights of the inn. All she hoped for was a place out of the rain.

“Hurry up, Lil Missy. Don’t have time to act shy, now do we? We all know why you are here.” The woman winked at her. “You can keep part of the money. The rest goes to me. You understand. Why of course you do. This isn’t the first place where you’ve been the star attraction, now is it? The entertainment for the gentlemen clients? I’ve the perfect gent for you waiting in the tap room. He’ll treat you nice and tight.”

Nodding, she wondered what it was she was supposed to understand. Gracie did finish with the bath. She wound the bath sheet she was handed around her looking for the garments she’d been wearing when she stepped inside the establishment even though she saw the woman throw them outside. As far as she could tell, she had nothing to cover herself with except the towel.

“You’re wearing this. The cost of this little piece of fluff will be docked from your first night’s income. Too bad you didn’t bring extra clothing.” The woman held out a gown. “Get dressed. You’re serving the wealthy gentleman in the far corner over there. He’s a real toff. One of those lords of the realm, if’n you get my drift.” She winked. “Make sure you please him. All you need remember is that you must do whatever he asks. If he has any complaints, you won’t get your pay.”

Whatever he asks?

Turning her back on the kitchen help, she dressed. Mortified, she looked at herself. The gown was too small for her. Her breasts were spilling from the corsage, the rosy hue of her nipples quite evident peeking from behind the fabric. When she tried to pull the gown higher the lace didn’t budge. It was too short, the hem in front reaching barely past her knees.

The woman was waving her hands at her a look of displeasure on her ruddy face. “Go on now. Treat him real nice. Want to get a nice fat reward for your behavior. If you’re a sweet one, you might get a bonus for the night. Pleasure him the way you know how. Rewards come with good behavior.”

Rewards?

Good behavior. She’d always been a good girl. How did she know this?

Baffled as well as frightened, Gracie picked up the tray on the bar. Picking out this well-to-do man in the room that was filled with farmers and tradesmen was not difficult. The man stood out. He was reading papers. His shoulders broad, his body tall. When he looked up, his golden eyes startled her, drew her to him. Those eyes seemed to pierce right through her, mesmerized her. She felt as if he could see all the way to her soul. No, in this dress he could most likely see all the way to her belly button…or lower. She felt a sudden urge to cover herself with her hands. She couldn’t.

“Set the tray down. Join me, Tilly? I was promised you were well versed and could see to my needs. Is that true?” he asked as he lifted the lid on one of the dishes, smelled then covered the plate again. “You can join me if you’re hungry. I don’t mind sharing.”

She was hungry. Starving. Famished. Didn’t want to act too eager. “I don’t know?” she began trying to recall what the woman told her.

Do whatever he asked. Please him and there will be rewards. She didn’t know what that entailed. Nonetheless, she liked to please people.

“You must.”

A quick look to the bar told her along with the sight of the man who watched her in the tub staring at her gave her good reason to remember what she was told. Whatever he wants. With no more hesitation, she sat. “I…”

She ran her tongue along her parched lips, trying to think of something clever to say. She was supposed to be sweet. She recalled that. A good girl. Behave.

“I?” he queried; his smile charming her to talk when she felt certain she should remain mute. “You were going to tell me something?”

Nodding, she blurted, “I don’t think my name is Tilly.”

With a start, she realized she had no idea what her name was, imagining that Tilly was good enough for now. Why didn’t she know her name? She didn’t know anything about herself. Dear God, she couldn’t remember anything. Who was she?

“Oh? What is your name?” He asked as he uncovered the food again. “I’ll call you whatever you wish. Give me a name.”

Blinking a few times while searching her mind for what he asked of her, she decided not to answer. He didn’t seem to mind. The man dished a plate of food for her. Her stomach grumbled loudly. His soft chuckle surprised her. She liked the sound of his gentle voice, of his easy laughter.

“My name is Fletcher. Unlike you, I do recall my name. Can remember most everything about myself along with these last few moments. Won’t ever forget the second I looked up from my work to see your huge green eyes staring at me. Eat up. When you’re finished, we can take a bottle of wine upstairs, along with those pastries for later. I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Tilly. Would you like to get to know me?”

Gracie didn’t like being called by the wrong name. However, in this circumstance she wasn’t going to tell him again she didn’t know her name. Did she already tell him? So flustered, she couldn’t recall anything. It was more than obvious that from what she’d seen so far, this Tilly person was supposed to be here doing this job. The job she wasn’t certain about. She didn’t comprehend her duties. The job that would give her a roof over her head, at least until they found out she wasn’t Tilly. What if Tilly showed up? No, she wasn’t going to think about that possibility. She was here now. No one would usurp her place where there was food as well as a roof over her head. Going back into the cold wet night was no alternative. She would be Tilly until she cocked up her toes if that would give her shelter along with food.

For the next few minutes, she pushed the food she’d wanted so badly to eat only a few seconds previous around on her plate. The hunger she felt earlier seemed to turn sour in her stomach. Her hand trembled so hard she could not hold her fork still. What the devil was she doing? While she didn’t know why, this felt wrong. She was doing something she shouldn’t be doing.

“Not hungry?” His deep voice cut through all her musings. “We can take a plate up to my room in case you change your mind. Don’t want you so hungry I can’t see to our mutual pleasure. What do you think? Should we bring food and wine with us.”

“I was…hungry,” she said in all honesty. “When I sat down here my belly was making loud rumbling noises. When I smelled the food, it ached. Now…well I look at you and I wonder what to expect. I don’t know…I’m supposed to please you. Do whatever you ask. What does that entail? Suppose I’m nervous.”

“Now you’re not hungry? As to what I expect from you is only a night of mutual gratification. I will see to your pleasure. You will see to mine. I was told you were clean. Is that so?” he asked, her a hint of amusement tinging his deep throaty voice.

He stacked the papers he’d been reading then shuffled them into a leather case. Pointedly he stared at her, seeming to assess what he viewed in front of him.

“The lady made me take a bath.”

He chuckled at her comment. “Shall we go?”

“Yes, no, my stomach seems to be doing somersaults. What am I supposed to be doing?” she blurted the question to receive a hoot of male laughter. “I dinna ken what you want? What this mutual pleasure is. Clean? I just took a bath. A forced one.”

She furrowed her brows together concentrating on his peculiar words.

His smile touched her heart. The dimple in the corner of his mouth sent an urgent message to her fingers. She wanted to touch the small inviting crease. She yearned for him to kiss her. Placing a fingertip on her mouth, she thought with strange certainty that she had been kissed before. Now, she yearned to taste this man’s kiss. How would his lips on hers feel?

“Shall we go upstairs then discuss your duties? I would like to make certain all expectation are clear before we get started. Don’t want either of us to flounder. If I mention something you disagree with then let me know so I won’t have anticipations to the contrary.”

He stood, holding out a hand to her. His fingers were long and lean, his nails manicured and clean.

Clean?

While she looked at his hands then his eyes, she felt hesitant. What were his intentions? Weariness gripped her inside. A voice reverberated in her head telling her to be cautious. Cautious of what? Something wasn’t right about his proposal. She held no knowledge of what that could be. “If you wish. I’m supposed to please you. Do whatever you ask.”

Was she repeating herself? She placed her hand in his knowing at this second her survival might rest on his approval of her. The feel of his fingers enclosing hers was strong and warm. He locked his fingers around hers, encapsulating them. “Will you explain my duties? It seems I should understand what it is you do expect from me.”

She sipped air when he squeezed. After that her tongue drifted across her parched lips, leaving dampness behind.

She didn’t understand why she stared at him and he stared at her mouth, his grin warming her to the tips of her toes, tightening parts of her she didn’t understand. “Well, Tilly, I was told you were experienced. Is that not true?” His hand settled at the small of her back drifting lower as if he explored, guiding her up the stairs. “Tell me now how many men you’ve slept with.”

“My mind is a complete blank tonight. Cannot answer your question,” she murmured as they stopped in front of a door.

She didn’t know if she slept with any man. He kissed the nape of her neck sending a myriad of sensation coursing through her. He brought out his key then unlocked the room. Holding the door open, he gestured for her to go inside. She stepped through. Felt a moment of fear when the door closed behind her.

“Sometimes a person can forget the rest of the world when their mind is blank. Tell me, Tilly, why do you sell your body? What brought you to this low place where you must give yourself to men for coin? You do know how beautiful you are.” He turned her so she faced him. The golden shimmer of his eyes bored into her asking for honesty.

She stopped abruptly. Sell my body? Training her gaze on the man, curious as well as confused. She tilted her head as she pondered his words. “I’m selling my body…to you? I don’t understand what you are expecting me to do. Are you paying me to be in this room with you? I didn’t ask you to do so.”

Moving a small distance away from her, she heard him curse in a low voice. “Well, it’s obvious to me as the words should also be to you. I’m buying the goods you’re offering me. Your breasts, your hips, your sweet pussy so I might receive pleasure. Though, I also intend to give as much pleasure as I obtain.” He ran a finger along the column of her neck then across the top of her bodice, dipping between the valley separating her breasts. “If you don’t wish to remain with me, tell me. You are free to go. I won’t hold a grudge or keep you from giving yourself to another man tonight.”

Heat flamed inside her. She wished she could remember who she was. Wished she could recall some reason for her to be here. He seemed to honestly answer her questions. She was told to do what he asked. Threatened with the fact she would be sent away if she failed. “What does that entail? The selling of my body? You will have to be more explicate in what you want. I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Once again Fletcher hooted with laughter, his golden eyes gleaming when the candlelight flashed across them. “I intend to be precise. You’re a rare gem, Tilly. A delight.” His fingers stopped at the necklace she wore. He picked it up, fingered the piece of jewelry for a few moments. Turned it so he could look at the back. He grunted but said nothing for a few seconds. “This necklace was a gift from a man? Perhaps your last protector? Have you fallen on hard times, Tilly? Did you displease the man. Did he kick you out, leaving you penniless?”

Curious to understand more, she tilted her head a bit so she could see the small piece of jewelry he held while she thought on what he told her. She had no recollection of the necklace or who might have given it to her. “I don’t know what you mean?” Gracie backed up a step as if placing some distance between them would help her recall what should be the simplest of memories. There was a man? She sensed that fact with her entire being. She didn’t recall who the man was or what he was to her.

He followed her bringing the piece of jewelry nearer to her, tugging her closer. She was looking at the heart from a difficult vantage point. “This says to Grace from Alex. Does Grace sound more like your name?”

Without thinking twice, she was nodding her head, eager to agree. “Yes…” then she lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. When you say the name, it sounds almost right. I don’t remember.”

“Should I call you Grace then? Would you like that name better? I can call you anything you wish. Anything that makes you more comfortable. What do you say. Are you Grace or are you not?”

She looked down, saw the rose of her nipples bared from his nimble fingers. “Oh!” She stepped back again. “You can see…”

Her horrified gaze flew to meet his eyes. She tried to cover herself with her hands. He held her back, with gentle strokes rubbed his thumbs along her wrists. He brought her hands to his lips, kissed the knuckles then the palms of her hands.

“They are beautiful, your breasts. Is the rest of you as gorgeous? I’d like to see all of you. Would you let me, Gracie? Let me look at you without this gown between you and my eyes.” After unfastening his shirt, he sat down on the bed. Poured them both a glass of wine. Fletcher patted the place beside him.

“Call me, Gracie. I think,” she blurted.

“Gracie it is.”

Speaking to him about her person was far beyond anything she could understand. Shaking her head, she wondered just how to proceed with that question. “I’ve no idea. I don’t think I’d like to wear nothing at all when you are near me. The man downstairs watched me take a bath. I didn’t like him staring at me. I tried to cover myself with the rag they gave me. Even though I was bathing, I felt dirty, used. The feeling wasn’t good.”

“You’ve never looked at yourself in a mirror? Would you help me remove my boots? I believe it’s time we both got more comfortable. Don’t you think?”

“Comfortable?”

Gracie didn’t think she’d ever feel relaxed again. Her body burned in places she never thought about before. Didn’t know why that was happening. She felt the melting of her legs when he touched her. This was so confusing, beyond her meager understanding of what men and women did together.

“Boots?” he asked, smiling, once more revealing the tiny dimple she wished to explore with her fingers.

With that random thought, once more, she believed she was trespassing on forbidden ground.

Startled by the question, she realized he spoke to her, asked her a question. “Oh! Yes, of course, I’ll help.” She turned so her back was to him. Heard the soft chuckle from behind her. Felt his hands on her hips. After that, he explored her bottom, holding her, squeezing with gentle strokes. She had the vague thought that she’d done this before, taken a man’s boots from his feet. Couldn’t remember when or with who. With a few deft tugs, the boots were lying on the floor. She turned to face the man wondering what he would do or say next. So far, her mind was spinning.

He stretched out on the bed, again patting the place beside him. His shirt hung unfastened from his shoulders baring a broad chest, heavily furred with dark black hair. “I’d like you to join me on the bed. We can explore your duties over a glass of wine. What do you think? Would you enjoy a glass of wine with me? Mayhap you have duties for me to perform. I would like to hear your thoughts. What is it you would wish for me to do?”

Nodding, she realized she would partake of a glass. If nothing else it might relieve some of her strained nerves. When she stopped to ponder this evening’s events, she didn’t know what it was all about.

One glass. No more. Don’t want you foxed. My woman should never get drunk. It’s not ladylike.

Startled by the memory, Gracie looked at him. The words didn’t come from Fletcher. They were in her head though, clouding her muddled brain further. Said by a deep male voice a voice that warned her, that was somehow familiar. She felt the kick to her ribs as if it happened right now.

Fletcher spoke again, his tone held a wealth of concern. “Gracie, I’d like you to be comfortable. Come sit. Tell me what’s on your mind. Did you remember something? That would be good. If you recall who you are, would you enlighten me?”

Once again, he patted the spot beside him encouraging her to sit next to him.

He sounded so sincere, so sweet and kind. She wished to give to him whatever he asked of her. Something inside her rebelled at sitting on a bed with a man, not just this man but any man. Even though her mind protested, she felt compelled to do as he asked. She’d been told to do everything he requested. How could sitting on a bed hurt her? It was a question she had no answer for. “Imagine that sitting on the bed might not be that bad.” Deep in the dark recesses of her brain, she concluded she’d never sat on a bed with a man. “I don’t think I’ve done this before.”

With hesitant movements, she plopped down beside him, curling her legs beneath her as she turned toward him. She tried to smile.

After sitting down, she held herself aloof as well as stiff away from the man. He handed her the glass of wine he poured earlier. “Drink up. Shall we go over some of your responsibilities?” His voice was pleasant yet held an edge she didn’t wish to explore. Perhaps he wished she would sit closer.

“Duties. Yes. Responsibilities. I imagine I should know what they are. I want to please” She sipped. The wine was delicious. It seemed to warm her empty stomach. She sipped again letting the heady brew heat her body all the way to the tips of her toes. Her stomach calmed. “Need to know my obligations,” she murmured.

“First…you should kiss me.”

Kiss the man…hmmm…she recalled kisses from another man. They were warm and sweet. She always felt as if something was missing. After that she recalled pain. Where the thought came from, she had no idea. She dismissed the notion in favor of the first ones. “I like kissing. A kiss is…nice. Imagine I can do that. Can do that if you won’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you? Never!” He continued with a mesmerizing voice. “Second, you should undress me.”

The wine she swallowed sputtered from her mouth sending a cascade of droplets on his white shirt. Gracie used the hem of her dress to swipe at the droplets of wine. She was mortified. “Undress? As in make you naked?”

She felt her eyes widen with shock. There were no memories surfacing here. Gracie stopped what she was doing. She smiled. “I’d like to see you naked.”

She giggled at the idea. He touched her smiling lips with a fingertip. Her tongue swept across her mouth as if following the path his finger traveled.

“As I would like to look upon you wearing nothing at all.” His voice resonated with sincerity.

“I can’t do that. Mother would roll over in her gra…”

Gracie shook her head. Where did that come from? Mother? Of course, she had a mother as well as a father. This was one more time that thoughts intruded on reality and that nagging voice inside her mind, screamed at her. Though she wasn’t at all certain what it was telling her.

“You remembered something? Tell me.”

“No, just a random thought about a mother and father I don’t remember but know I must have them somewhere. Must have heard something like that before. Don’t know where though.” After she drank more wine, he refilled the glass.

“Third.”

“There is a third job? That’s a lot of duties.”

~ * ~

“I’m just getting started, Gracie.” Fletcher liked her name. The moniker fit her personality. “There will be more once we’ve accomplished the first ones. You will enjoy what we do together. I promise.”

She was a curious piece of baggage, one moment innocent the next strangely brazen. This lass was advertised by the lady who owned this establishment as a well-seasoned whore. He would gamble his life savings that she wasn’t. He would also gamble that she might well be innocent, a virgin. He wondered if at some point he should stop this seduction. He didn’t want to stop.

“How many can I have? Glasses?” she asked as she finished the glass of wine, licking her lips. Not blinking an eye, she spoke, “I’m not supposed to get foxed.”

“Says who? The lady who sent you to me? Someone else? As far as I’m concerned if you can perform all your responsibilities, I don’t give a damn how much you drink. As much as you would like is my answer.” He took the glass from her before setting it on the nearby table. “For now, we’re going to drink what we please and forget about the quantity of wine we do or do not consume and start with a kiss. Is that alright with you? Am I wrong? Didn’t you tell me you liked kisses? If you do this right, I’ll pour you more wine.”

“What if I don’t?”

He lifted his shoulders in a decided shrug, “Well, then…I’ll pour you more wine if you ask. Now, kiss me, Gracie. Kiss me like you mean it.”

She blinked a few times seeming to mull his words over in her agile female mind. She ran her tongue across her lips several times while thinking. “I did say that. Though I don’t ken where those words came from. Cannot recall a man kissing me. Something inside me is screaming that one has. I don’t…” She heaved a long dramatic sigh, blinking once then twice. “I’d like to remember how to kiss. Don’t have the foggiest of ideas.”

Somewhere, somehow, she lost her identity. Either that or this was an elaborate ploy, one she would soon fail at. Deception was not easy. Clear to him now, he didn’t believe she was Tilly, the experienced woman of the evening who was supposed to see to his needs tonight. This little piece of fluff was here in that woman’s stead. This Gracie was beautiful. He wouldn’t change this scene for another woman. Seeing how far she would carry the ruse would be fun.

“Like for you to remember me better than the last man who kissed you. Don’t wish to be a puzzle in your beautiful head.” He grinned as her brows creased together in concentration. Soon, he would trace a line across her eyebrows, smooth the creases out. “Now, you are to kiss me. I’m waiting with infinite patience.”

He paused watching her. Afraid she might bolt.

“Would rather you kiss me,” she told him sounding sincere as she swept that sweet tongue of hers across her plump bottom lip another time just to seduce him.

The need to nibble assailed every masculine part he possessed. “Don’t believe I’ve ever kissed a man unless he was kissing me first. How do I start?”

“No, we’ll do this my way. Come here.” –

He took her wrists then brought them so they were placed on his shoulders. Her mouth was tempting, so close to his. Her breasts pressed against his chest. “Go ahead. Let your instincts take over.”

He heard the soft groan, hoping it was desire ravaging her. Wasn’t at all certain if that was a good or bad sign. Her lips brushed his, the softness of her breasts pushed more thoroughly against his chest. He ran his hands along her back while she moved away from him seeming to think what she did was a real kiss.

When their gazes clashed, her eyes were a brilliant soft shade of green, mossy green, reminding him of a place on his land he liked to swim. “That was hardly a kiss, Gracie,” he said surprised at the gruffness of his voice. “You can do better. Try harder.” With all his body raging for more, he laughed, content with her eager innocence. Willing to take as much time with her initiation into love as needed.

“How?” Gracie sat back on her legs staring at him as if he lost his mind. Her hands rested on his chest then seemed to explore the expanse. It was a distraction he liked. He wanted to feel those fingers on other parts of his body. Soon. Rushing this wasn’t his intention. For the entire night she was his.

“The devil,” he said as he pulled her closer his hand behind her head bringing her against him. “Open for me. I’ll show you everything you need to know. I promise you will enjoy yourself. Let me show you how kisses will be between us.”

His fingers wound into her hair, drawing her ever closer. So close, he caught the scent of a sweetly aroused woman. This was heaven.

Her lips against his were warm and soft, pliant as well as slightly damp. He touched his tongue upon her sealed mouth, ran the tip along the seam, hoping she would come to understand what he wanted. The tiny mewl, soft, sultry emanating from the back of her throat pleased him. The sweet sound wasn’t enough. Once more, he pushed against her lips, parting them urging them to separate, touching the smoothness of her teeth, the sensitive inside of her mouth.

“Oh!” came a startled response.

Her breasts heaved against his chest. He felt the sudden rapid beat of her heart. The swift intake of air. The tips of her fingers scraped against his flesh. Heat surged to his loins. His body hardened with a simple need she created by her startled response.

Taking advantage of the immediate situation, he pressed forward slipping inside the torrid heat of her mouth, tasting the sweet wine she drank earlier, savoring the essence of her. She seemed to understand, touched her tongue to his. The hesitant caress pleased him. Again, the purr emanating from the back of her throat was soft. Her breath broke in a fragmented sound into his mouth. Her fingers clenched against his chest, winding into his hair, tugging, moving as if she couldn’t contain herself. Continuing the kiss, he found she followed his movements, touching her tongue inside his mouth, along his teeth finally to search farther inside. He sucked, nipped then flirted with what she presented him. He nibbled on her lower lip then placed tender kisses across her mouth to soothe the tiny hurts. He was both gentle then hard. Demanding then tender.

Gracie ran her hands across his chest while their lips continued to collide in heated fashion against each other. Her palms fluttered with innocent hesitation across his hardened nipples once then twice then a third time. She moved her hands to his shoulders, sliding the sharpness of her nails along the breadth of him, pushing at his open shirt as if she needed to feel more of him.

She pulled away, staring at him, her eyes a bit dazed. Her tongue danced across her bottom lip as if to sooth the tender flesh. The tilt of her head brought curls cascading down around her. “Was that better? Should I try again. I do wish to please you, Fletcher. It’s my job to give you everything you ask for.”

If it was any better, he would expire with the pleasure her tentative sexual play created. All he could do now was nod because her soft fingertips were following the path of his chest hair to his waist band. He grew, swelled as heat flared pushing its way to his groin. She looked at him, questions in the soft green of her eyes. While she ran her fingers along the flesh just above his buckskins, he toyed with the ribbons that held her bodice together, deftly pulling them one at a time from the eyelets. Firsthand knowledge of her beautiful breasts was his goal. As a patient man, he could take his time, revel in the sweet unveiling. After all, she was his for the night. He could play with her for hours. Perhaps even longer than just one evening. He would have to think about that.

Against his flesh her hand moved with indecision, lingering on sensitive spots he didn’t believe she knew anything about. When her fingers crept across his belly, his skin retracted. Fletcher sucked air. “You can look if you like? Do you wish to uncover me? To see the part of me that wants you. Throbs to feel your wet heat. Then do so,” he told her unable to keep the throaty need from the timbre of his voice or the chuckle at her curiosity.

Feeling her tiny fingers wrap around him would be heaven of her making.

When next she looked at him her eyes were wide pools of green. “Oh, I could never do that,” she paused smiling at him as she turned her head a bit to look at the window before focusing on him. “Unless doing so is a duty. If it’s a listed duty then I imagine I must uncover you.”

It seemed she flirted with him, teased with her statement.

“Making it a duty as of this second. Nonetheless, you need to choose. Before the evening is over, you will see all of me…when is the only question. Do you wish to see that which makes me so very different from you, now or later?” As far as he was concerned the sooner the better.

“I will?”

Her well-manicured fingers were toying with the fastenings of his britches even while she questioned the validity of his statement. “I will see that part of you? Down there?” She caught her bottom lip beneath her teeth before looking at her fingers. “Like the statues in Italy? You’re not David, are you?”

Hardly.

Her statement shocked him. She was no seasoned whore. Perhaps a rich man’s plaything but no whore. None of the statues she would have ever seen were aroused as he was. “Go on…”

He encouraged even while he slipped the last ribbon from its holder. Without a chemise to hinder his efforts, her breasts spilled into his hands. He held the rounded globes, tested their weight along with the softness. They were lush, so creamy, tipped with rose colored buds tightening as he stroked them.

She gasped as her gaze shot to him. He was smiling at her, caressing the rosy tips while she swallowed, her lips still damp from his ardent attention. “Is that something you should be doing? I don’t know what to think. It’s not my duty?”

“No, this is my duty. Do you like what you’re feeling? The way I make you feel when I touch you here?” She was too damn innocent for a whore. Again, he wondered if this was just a well-practiced act. Her words about seeing statues in Italy another ruse to lull him into believing she was something she wasn’t. Gracie was talented. He would give her that.

“Aye.” As if to keep from making eye contact, she bent her head, still playing with the fastenings to his pants. He was free, standing at attention as she stared at him, her eyes wide pools of green. As if hungry to taste him, she licked her lips. Her gaze darted to meet his eyes. Inside the depth of those green circles, he read a wealth of things, discovery, curiosity, excitement and so much more as her expression changed. Gracie reached out to touch him.

He wanted to laugh at the surprise in her eyes. Without being told or asked, her fingers wrapped around his length. He bucked at the sudden surge of heat to his loins. Her hands fell away, her eyes wider with what appeared to be concern.

She was a delight. His delight. For tonight. He would have to make it longer. Gracie was going to be his next mistress.

“Go ahead, touch. If you would like to,” he murmured as he pushed the fabric of her gown from her shoulders then down her arms. “You are lovely. Do you like what you see? I know I’m a man well pleased with the woman who is giving herself to me this night.”

She possessed marvelous breasts, lush, creamy. He needed to suckle, to taste. So far, he hadn’t kissed her enough. Hadn’t filled himself until sated with her sweet flavor. For these few minutes, all he needed was to stare at her, to soak in her beauty.

One more time her fingers curled around his penis, moving instinctively as if she knew what would please him. Perhaps she did. While she gave ardent attention to him, he lifted her, removing her gown from her legs then kicking the fabric to the floor. She would wear nothing for the rest of the night. He would hold her, find the magic between them. Relishing every part of her was his goal.

In all her glory she was naked, her breasts swaying with each breath of air she inhaled. Her hands rose to cover herself. Her lips formed a startled oval. She didn’t know where to put them. He grinned at her look of horror. Her waist was tiny, her hips flaring wide, ripe for holding. Hourglass came to his mind. Her woman’s mound was gloriously dark and golden touched with flames. Almost the color of her hair. He wanted to be just as naked. In all his dalliances, he’d never seen a woman that struck him with as much need as this one. From the moment he saw her, he wanted her in his bed. Who was she? Where did she come from? He was positive she wasn’t Tilly, that Gracie was indeed her name.

He lifted his hips to give aide. “Pull my buckskins off. When you do, we can enjoy each other much more thoroughly.”

She did. Over her shoulder she carelessly, as if she’d done the same a thousand times, tossed them to the floor. He didn’t think he could wait one more second to possess her. Something stopped him from surging inside her. To feel the sweetness between her legs. The thought that it was possible her innate shyness was no game. Her lost memory might not be a ruse. He needed to make this right for her. If she was a seasoned whore, it wouldn’t make a difference if he proceeded with unrushed precision though it was killing him.

She is innocent.

A virgin. A virgin whore.

That might or might not be true. Regardless of anything she did or did not tell him, he didn’t wish to hurt her. Fletcher knew in that moment tonight would not be his last sexual encounter with this woman. One night would never be enough with Gracie. Tomorrow, he would take her home with him, keep her in the grounds keeper’s cottage which stood empty. He wasn’t at all ready for the world to see her or his brothers for that matter. He sure as hell wasn’t ready to let her go after one night with her.

“Has a man ever entered your body?” he asked wondering what type of answer he would receive.

One hand rested on the gentle curve of her hip, his thumb gently caressing the flatness of her belly. The other explored the ladder of her ribs. He settled himself exactly where he wanted to be.

Her legs were spread wide. He was between them, looking at her. She was pink and soft. “Bend your knees, sweetheart. I want to see all of you.”

He pushed her thighs farther apart, kissing her belly, wishing he dared go lower. Tasting the embodiment of her womanhood would come later. Frightening her was not part of his plan. Patience was the strategy.

She wet her lips again. Moved. Brought her legs closer. He pushed them apart. Her body arching against his with every secret touch of his hands. “I…I don’t think so,” her murmur was followed by a soft mewl of pleasure when his mouth closed over one breast, sucked, and laved then sucked until the nipple was elongated, damp and shiny from his attention. His teeth flirted with the pinnacle until it was hard and longer still. He pulled back to look at his handiwork. The nipple was perfect. Pink. Hard. Extended. He blew watching the tip harden even more.

Her doubts surrounding who she was spurred him to treat her as the virgin he was beginning to believe she was. Perhaps in time she would regal him with the details that led to this event. He did have a driving need to understand why she found herself in this position though he was heartily glad she was. Pleased she fell so neatly into his hands. Happy that she was so willing to give herself to him. Ah, he would have to reward her very well. As it was now, she was his delight. He would accept the gift of her maidenhead with all his heart.

If the thin membrane wasn’t there, he didn’t care. He needed to experience all that Gracie was, all that she could be in his arms. All that she could be for him in their future.

His kisses delved lower, across her belly, between her thighs, behind her knees. He enjoyed the arching of her body as he left no part of her untouched. Her fingers curled into his shoulders. With loving attention, one more time he bathed her toes with kisses, dallying, nipping enjoying the way her body coiled and arched with each new and different caress. He fondled her, charmed, and enticed her to his will. He kissed her then he kissed her again, retracing the earlier path until she heaved and moaned, clasped him with her sharp little nails. Her legs were now opening wider as if she wanted him.

Moving upward, relishing the feel of her soft curves, he covered her mouth with his, kissing, playing, flirting with her. He kissed her long and deep, hard and fast until the slow burn ignited and flamed until her moans caught at him. Her hums of pleasure excited him. He was eager to feel her velvet sheathe encase him. She created a blazing inferno within his body, one he would never forget. Her fingers wound into his hair, tugging him closer. She was a scorching need in his soul.

He was swollen and hard, needing relief. His restraint amazed him. His fingers delved into the cleft between her thighs. Hot and wet, her pleasure soaked his fingers, honey raining down as his fingers moved within her core. He found the tiny jewel that would bring her so much pleasure she would cry out. Once that happened, he would ease himself inside her sultry heat. With no need for haste, he would take his time, search out all her secrets. Uncover everything about her until he had no questions in his mind as to who she was.

The scent of her aroused and inflamed all his senses. Resting on his forearms, he watched as her body responded to the urgings of his nimble fingers. “Open your eyes, Gracie. I want to see your expression when you reach that sainted peak of ecstasy you’re fast approaching. Want to watch you when I pleasure you. Are you happy, lass?”

If she asked him to cease, he didn’t know how he would ever stop.

“Ecstasy? Happy? Don’t know. Yes…” she whimpered her voice soft as her body vibrated with the sensual need he composed.

She tensed, her tiny bottom rising off the bed. Her heels dug into the mattress. Her fingers bit into his shoulders. She cried out, responding with cries and moans. She pulsed and thrummed with her need. “Fletcher…please… Fletcher!” She wailed. A broken sound caught in the back of her throat. She was beside herself with need. Need just for him.

“I’m coming inside you now.”

He didn’t want to inform her that if she was the innocent, he thought her to be, this would hurt her. He would go easy. Move as slow as possible. The tip of his member pressed against her softness. She was so small he didn’t know how he would enter her without hurting her even though her wet, humid heat sent lightening striking his body. She was tight and hot and wet with her woman’s nectar as he took his time to sink inside her. She was ready for him. Creeping forward as her core kissed and clenched the length of him still pulsing with the building climax.

Her maidenhead loomed upon him. He touched the sign of her virtue, groaned understanding this would cause pain. A moment of guilt swept him. He was taking something from her she didn’t understand. While she was willing, she had no idea the gift she bestowed upon him. Of course, she understood. Her mother would have told her not to give herself to a man. She was in an establishment where she agreed to do whatever he said, had agreed to the giving of herself for money. In this pursuit of both their pleasure, he would not feel a moment of remorse. This revelation would not sway him. Closing his eyes, waiting for the cry this time that would signal pain not pleasure, he thrust through the shield that would no longer be hers to give.

Her nails dug into his shoulder. The little cry of pain surprised as well as pleased him. He was Gracie’s first lover. She wasn’t sobbing. So perhaps he didn’t hurt her too much. She clung to him. Held onto him as if she didn’t wish him to leave her. Her nails bit into his shoulders.

He froze inside her, enjoying the rhythmic pulsing of her body clenching the length of him, sucking him deeper into the tightness of her. “You be alright, lass?” he asked his voice soft as he hung on steadfastly refusing to cause further pain.

He pushed damp hair from her forehead, from her eyes, wishing to see into the depth of her soul.

“Didn’t know it would hurt so. You didn’t tell me. You said you’d give me pleasure.” Her voice as well as her words held a wealth of accusations.

“Frightening you was not part of the plan. Didn’t know I was about to invade virgin territory. You never told me that you were untried in the ways of sex and men. If you had done so, we could have talked about what was going to happen.” He tried to assuage his momentary bout of repentance. She did tell him she didn’t know if she’d done this before. Found the notion far from acceptable since he was pleased, he was her first dalliance into carnal pleasures. For his benefit, he stated one more time, “You could have informed me.”

With light nips, she bit his shoulder. “I didn’t know. While I remembered kissing, I don’t recall doing anything like this. Do you think a person could forget this. You are still inside me, Fletcher. Is that right?”

Yes, he was. He liked being within the heat her body so very much. “Would like to finish then we can have more wine or talk of what you might be remembering. You can tell me how you came to the Sliver Nickel.”

Fletcher moved within her, testing tender territory. He groaned when her hot body caressed him again and again. When she arched against him, pressing all of herself higher. He found the tiny pearl hidden deep in her cleft, massaged until once again she was spinning out of control, fragmenting with the pleasure he was creating.

His thrusts grew harder and faster while she seemed to spiral with him. He knew the moment her climax took her even higher. He spewed his seed deep within her sultry heat. This was splendid. He collapsed atop her, feeling the hard pinnacles of her breasts against his chest, the whisper of each breath. The sound of her steady heartbeat caressed him.

When he braced himself above her, Gracie’s eyes were closed. With her first as well as her second climax, he watched her eyes turn darker then darker still. Her creamy white skin was flushed with the heat of their encounter a soft rose color. Fletcher traced her collarbone then forged a path along the sleek column of her neck, lower to touch upon the tips of her breasts. He wanted to taste all of her again.

“A penny for your thoughts, sweet one.” He thought it would be wonderful to learn more about this woman. Rolling off her, Fletcher brought her so her head rested on his chest. Her small white hand splayed across his dark chest. “Tell me what you are thinking. I would know.”

Her breath whispered, fluttered across him. She turned to look at him, “Is that a command or a duty?” she asked as she trailed her finger along his chest following the path of his dark hair to his belly then lower before she hesitated.

“Neither.”

What he wanted was her to remember who she was as well as why she sold herself to him. It didn’t seem as if she did. He couldn’t command the truth or her feelings. He would have to trust.

She didn’t move her hand farther. He thought he would like it if she was to be so bold. Pushing against him, she moved away, the tips of her breasts, touching upon his chest. She smiled at him. Her grin broad as well as endearing. Her eyes shining.

“I enjoyed what we did, if that is what you ask. I don’t believe I’ve ever done that before,” she began, her words uncertain as she settled against him again, playing with the hair on his chest. “If it suits you, I would do it again.”

“That thought leaves this man well pleased. Later, after you have a bite to eat, mayhap another glass of wine. Would you like that? Food in your belly. Wine to calm as well as soothe.” He meant to ignore the fact that when he thrust through her maidenhead, he knew she’d never given herself to anyone before him.

“I am thirsty.”

Fletcher sat up, pulling the sheets with him. She tried to cling to them, was thwarted. Candlelight danced across her breasts casting a golden glow as they swayed. He didn’t think he would ever grow tired of looking at her body. “A glass of wine for my sweet lassie,” he told her as he handed her the crystal. “In order to partake, you will have to sit.”

The blush sweeping to her heated cheeks was endearing. She did sit, trying to keep the sheets covering her. Amused, he kept his chuckle to himself. After several thwarted tries to keep the sheet covering her, she gave up. Her breasts moved in subtle invitation under his perusal, the tips hardening as if beckoning to him to taste. She wore nothing above the waist, below only the sheet. Sipping on the wine, the sight of her was branded in his head. He handed her a pastry then selected one for himself. Leaning against the headboard, he closed his eyes. Breathing deep, he thought about what would happen soon.

“We will leave early in the morning. I wish to be at my home by noon.” He was chewing while thinking waiting for her to answer.

“I am leaving with you?” she asked sounding confused. “Why would you do that. I’ve this notion I should be somewhere. Don’t know where though. All I recall is the blinding headache when I awoke down the road. The rain was a fine mist but I was soaked through to my skin. All I knew was that I needed a roof over my head. The frigid night air seeped through my clothing. When I saw this building, I decided to go in through the back door. The lady who grabbed me told me I was late. She stripped me then set me in the bath to wash off all the mud. After that, when I was dressed, she sent me to you.” She cast him a wan smile, lifting her shoulders in a very feminine gesture. “Besides what happened here, that’s all I know about my life.”

“Until you recall where that somewhere is, I intend to keep you with me. Don’t want anything untoward to happen to you. In this short time, I’ve come to care about you.” Before she could ask, he spoke again. “Think of it as your duty to remain with me. For the sake of your safety, you cannot stay here.”

“Why?”

“You know why. Do you wish to service every man the lady of this fine establishment tells you too? I doubt if you would enjoy the job.” The thought of her with another man as she was with him turned his stomach sour. Jealousy roared to life. For the time being, she was his. No other man was going to touch Gracie. He would take care of this lovely woman.

She blanched at his words. “I had not thought of that. How can I go with you? Won’t my presence cause you trouble? What if I’ve done something wrong? I ken nothing about my past.”

Perhaps it would. Maybe he would have to think about all the explanations he would have to make to his family. His brothers would take issue with her presence whether in his home or the cottage. Damn his brothers! Though the only one who hadn’t done something equally outrageous was his youngest brother, Gordan. Gordan would laugh then tell him he was becoming just like his older brothers.

Duncan created a scandal when he couldn’t leave the woman who now was his wife alone. He carried her from a ballroom filled with people to his bedchamber. Evan hit a student who attacked him after discovering the young man making love to another student in a school closet. Evan refused to apologize. After that he escorted a woman around town who he kept in his home. They both had their reasons. Because of their past, they could not pass judgement.

There was nothing he could do his brothers had not preceded him in accomplishing. While they might lecture him, he didn’t have to listen. He would house her in the ground keeper’s cottage, not his home. He would not install her in his bed as Evan did his lover. Gracie would be his mistress. He would not deny himself of her sweet charms.

Fletcher thought about all the things he would have to consider. She didn’t remember who she was. He would have to make certain she was taken care if he ever had to leave for an extended amount of time. There were the occasional trips to London to consider. Other than that, he was usually home for lengthy periods. Turning to her he spoke a soft brogue coming from his lips, realizing she might have worries as well as fears. “I will handle whatever issues might arise. No need for you to concern yourself,” he told her as his gaze roamed across her breasts once more.

Gracie seemed to bristle at his words. Her beautiful rounded globes moving with her annoyance. He wondered what he said to cause the agitation he read in her eyes along with her body. Getting to know this woman would be his delight.

“Need to concern my pretty little head!”

She punched him on the chest. It was clear to him she was angry with his words. Her eyes flashed fire, turning to a darker shade. “I don’t like thinking all I am is a bit of fluff for your use…”

She fell off for a moment as if confused by what she spouted. When she addressed him again, “I think I’ve told someone that before. Those words seem verra familiar. A person who never treated me as anything more than a decoration for his arm.” She seemed to puzzle over her statement.

This was an opening he longed for. Her recalling her life could be an advantage or a disadvantage. He had no idea her background. Her speech, her attitude about life, all spoke of a woman gently bred. That was true until she allowed him to bed her without a moment’s concern. “You remembered something?” He meant to probe until she could tell him her full name as well as where she belonged. Perhaps he didn’t want to know details. If he learned more about her, he might not be able to do whatever pleased the two of them. If she had people who would take issue with this fledgling relationship of theirs, he would have to temper his actions, act more the gentleman than the besotted fool.

Blinking a few times then taking a long hearty drink, she set the glass on the table beside her. “No, it’s just a feeling I had, a thought rattling around in my haze filled brain. I feel as if a fog surrounds all that I am. Someone else said those words to me. Don’t remember who or why. The way they spoke those words was degrading. I’ve a healthy mind. Can worry or make a decision that pleases me or not. Don’t need a man to decide for me what is right or wrong. I think that is what he tried to do.”

Fletcher liked the indignation he heard in her tone. What he didn’t like was the thought there was another man out there waiting for her. One who seemed to have abused her, both mind as well as body. After she was naked, he didn’t miss the bruised ribs. Couldn’t overlook the slight flinch when he caressed one of the dark colored places on her body. She deserved better than what she’d received at the hands of this man.

“Who hurt you?” he blurted not intending to give away this knowledge he had of her past life. “I would confront the man. To me it is clear there has been a man in your life. Someone who has taken advantage of you.”

He was heartily glad, though, that the man had not taken the innocence she seemed eager to give to him.

Shaking her head, she drank of the wine once more before she addressed him with a wobble in her voice. “A man in my life? Why would you think that? I don’t recall…” She paused, tugging at a few of the tangles in her hair. “I suppose so.”

“From your thoughts. One, about kissing, two about what you just said. I believe you’ve had a bruised or broken rib. Only a man…” He stopped to think. There were a hundred different ways her ribs could have been hurt. “I believe a man did that to you. Hit you hard enough to leave a bruise.”

It seemed his Gracie needed a change of subject. When she spoke after a lengthy period of silence, “Tell me more about where you are going to take me. Will I be pleased? I wish I could remember who I am.”

Despite the guilt sweeping through him, drowning him, he didn’t wish her to remember who she was any time soon. He had the distinct feeling once she remembered, he would have a wealth of questions to answer. She nestled next to him, her refilled wine glass in her hand. Her beautiful face was flushed both from the wine as well as her slight embarrassment. The movement caused some of the wine to spill onto her. He grinned, as he also wished for the manner of conversation to take on a different tenor. Placing her wine glass back on the table, he touched one of the drops of burgundy with his tongue. At the small contact, she sipped air. He licked again, grazing soft flesh with his teeth.

This time, Gracie inhaled a sweeping gasp of air when his tongue curled then flicked across the tight crest of her breast. He drank on another drop of wine. Licked with carefree abandon on the drops that slid along her belly. Followed the red trail down to her woman’s mound. The little drone of pleasure that floated through the air gave him good reason to continue. Her fingers wound into his hair, tugging him closer.

When he reached the soft petals of feminine flesh between her thighs, they were hot and wet with her honey. Her nectar flowed sweet and true. Approving his actions, she moved her legs apart as he settled between her thighs, licking, tasting her essence everything that she was. When she began to arch and heave, he thrust inside her, taking his time, moving fast then slow. Holding back his release until he felt the vibrations of her ecstasy along his shaft.

When they finished, both were sated. She lay in his arms. He felt the slow movement of her lashes against his chest, the whisper of her breath, the beat of her heart as the cadence slowed. No, he wouldn’t be pleased to lose her to her memories anytime soon. If she couldn’t recall her identity, she was his.

This beautiful woman with no recollection to speak of slept in his arms. Nothing felt better. He would clear the path for her. If Duncan wouldn’t allow her to stay at the cottage, he would move her into his home. Betsy lived with Evan before the two lovers wed. Not one of his brothers cried foul at that time. There was little to no objection to that as far as he knew. Within a short time, they wed. Betsy was pregnant with Evan’s child. She lost their first baby in a tragic miscommunication.

If Gracie became pregnant, he would do the same. He would marry her. His breath caught in the back of his throat. The thought was a heady one, one he’d never considered before. Fletcher had no intention of taking precautions when they made love.

Marriage…

She didn’t know who she was. There was another man in her life. Who the hell was it? Not a husband. That fact he was damn certain of. He meant to discover who the man was as soon as possible.

~ * ~

Phoebe paced with quick sure strides in the drawing room of the twin’s home, Gracie’s uncles, the Kenworthys. To her dismay they didn’t seem too nervous about their niece’s disappearance. They continued to tell her she would show up in good time. Her horse came back riderless, seeming to be spooked. The raging tempest the night before might have terrified the animal. The little mare might have thrown Gracie. Phoebe followed the roads they agreed on into town the next afternoon. There was no sign of her. No proof she traveled the same path.

When Alexander reached the house in the morning, Phoebe told him Gracie was no longer in residence. Told the odious man her friend left to avoid him. She no longer wanted anything to do with Alexander. For all she knew, Gracie might have gone to Paris. Alexander cursed. He shook his fist at her, swearing that she would regret hiding his fiancée. Phoebe would never regret anything she did to keep this man away from her friend. The man was bright enough to know he didn’t dare hit her. While her father was a duke, Gracie’s father was a well-known judge in Glasgow.

She wasn’t smitten with him as Gracie was. If he hit her, she would hold him accountable. First, she would go to Gracie’s father, the judge. He would never get away with abuse to her person. After Phoebe was certain Alex headed back into Glasgow, she collected a few items along with her driver then headed into the city to search out her friend.

Once at the front door of the Kenworthy’s, she used the gold plaited lion knocker to summon the butler or the uncles. She didn’t care. Their under butler ushered her into the drawing room to wait for Jason and Jasper. She sat down on a chair to stare into the flames leaping in the huge fireplace. The minutes ticked by so slow she needed to scream. She was certain no one gave the uncles the message they had a guest. When they entered the room, she jumped to attention prepared to blast her cannons at these two men.

The twins were gentle giants. They were tall, broad of shoulder. Both had eyes of the softest blue color that reminded her of a sunny summer morning just after the fog evaporated from the dew kissed ground.

“What has you in such a dither, woman?” Jason asked as he stepped closer to her waving his hand in the air as if that would get him his answer sooner than later.

“Do have a seat,” Jasper encouraged, not at all as impatient as his brother.

She sat again, wishing the two men weren’t such sweethearts. Gracie came to them several times asking for advice. Much to her chagrin the men didn’t believe that a man, the viscount, would physically abuse her. The third black eye had them beginning to change their mind. When Gracie came to them with the broken rib, it was then they encouraged her to cry off the engagement.

“A dither? A dither! You two are such fools.” She wanted to stamp her foot in vexation. “I can’t believe your niece thought to come to you for help. The two of you are useless. After heading here…to this house…Gracie has disappeared and the two of you sit on your hands as if she will turn up if you clap your hands or snap your fingers. You say I’m in a dither, belittling me. Well, sitting on them will not help you clap them. We’ve got to find her! Before something terrible happens to her, we must find her. Before the viscount discovers where she is, we need to protect her. Oh!” Phoebe was shouting as she voiced her anger to the two men. After that she was ringing her hands then moaning. “I think something bad has already happened to her. We are too late. If she is not here, where is Gracie!”

The two brothers looked at each other then back to her. There was question as well as some concern in their eyes. “Might I point out she has disappeared before,” Jason reminded her with smooth aplomb. “Gracie always lands on her feet. She’s like a cat with nine lives.”

“Turns up without a scratch.”

The argument was disconcerting but the words wouldn’t keep her from her goal. “Only when Alexander hit her or belittled her,” Phoebe said, her hands resting on her hips.

She didn’t think she could get angrier with these two men who seemed to take life at a snail’s pace. She didn’t know how to spur them to action. A fireplace poker in the rear might do the trick since her concern didn’t have a noticeable effect on them.

“This time?” One of Jasper’s red eyebrows lifted toward the ceiling seeming to speculate and perhaps consider a search. “He was not with her. You were when she left. Then you should ken what she planned.”

“At last, a few words that make sense. Of course, I knew her plans. As I told you the moment you walked into the drawing room, Gracie was headed here. She should have been here sometime around midnight last night. She should be just rising to face a new day, rested as well as relaxed. Protected from Alexander by the likes of you two idiots.” The air she tugged into her lungs was tobacco scented. She coughed, waving her hand in front of her face. “Would the two of you put those horrid cigars out!”

She was yelling again, frustrated as well as annoyed by their lack of concern when Gracie needed them. Phoebe didn’t know how to create some energy and trepidation into these two pitiful souls.

“Sorry,” they mentioned in unison, quickly stuffing the offending articles into the ash trays then handing them to the servant who entered with a tray of sweet confections and tea. “Something to eat and drink?”

“You should be sorry,” Phoebe said indignation in her speech. She sniffed the air which was now scented with fresh pastries. “Those things will kill you. Now, back to Gracie. I’m worried about her. It’s not like her to disappear even though you did mention she did that once before. The thing of it was, that time I knew where she was. She sent a message as soon as she reached her destination. So, for me, she didn’t vanish without a trace. She had to get away from the viscount to save her life. She was afraid he might kill her; his anger was so intense.”

“This time?” Jasper asked as he arranged the tea cups then poured the hot brew into them.

“This time I was also privy to her intentions. As I told you, she was coming here for shelter. You two were supposed to be a barrier between her and her fiancé. You were supposed to protect her. I haven’t heard from her. Gracie’s horse returned to my stable sans its rider. We must look for her.” She was losing patience. “Can’t you employ a detective to search for her. Something bad could have happened to her. As I just told you, her horse came back to the stable riderless. The storm last night was fierce. Gracie could be wandering through the countryside not knowing where she is.”

After repeating herself, she sat down with a plop in front of the tea. She was hungry, having raced from her country estate as soon as she was certain the viscount wouldn’t discover her destination.

His hands behind his back, Jason rocked back on his heels. Beneath his breath, he grumbled a bit as if annoyed. “Fine idea. Just fine. I’ll get on with it after we have tea. No,” he placed a finger on his chin, “I’ll send Bolton after the detective I’ve used before to search for Gracie. The time when you allowed me to make a fool of myself. You do recall that incident? The time when you knew she was in Paris getting a new wardrobe. That time, do you recall the situation?”

He sent her a pointed, frustrated look.

Phoebe had the good sense to blush. She felt heat rise from the tops of her breasts to sting her cheeks with warmth. “I promised not to tell a soul what she was about, lest Alexander discover her whereabouts then go after her. She wasn’t there to enhance her wardrobe. She was there to heal the wounds he inflicted.”

The twins were right. Gracie should have called the engagement off the first time he hit her, the first time he belittled her with hateful words. Gracie did not. She believed she was in love with the odious man. Believed he loved her too. Now, she was missing, very much missing.

She watched as Jasper sent the man to speak with the detective.

“Will you stay for dinner?” Jasper asked as he spied her over the rim of her tea cup. “I will speak with my detective this afternoon if that can be arranged. Mr. Sawyer is his name.”

“I’m expected at home this evening. I trust you will keep me apprised of the search.”

She wanted to stay. Phoebe wanted to be part of the meeting between the twins and Mr. Sawyer. She was afraid they would be too lackadaisical in employing this man. “Gracie could be anywhere between my home and yours. She could have been picked up by some scoundrel then whisked away. Kidnapped! Abused!” Her mind traveled over too many scenarios. She tried to draw a deep breath but accomplished bringing only a tiny trickle of air into her lungs.