Chapter One

1824 Glasgow Scotland

 

Lord Colin Angus Monroe MacEwen, Viscount of Rosehill, better known as Cam to his friends, stood on the balcony of his townhouse in Glasgow, Scotland, thinking over the last cowardly nine months of his life. He’d made promises to a lovely lass, Chelsea MacTavish. Promises he was unable or perhaps too terrified to keep might be a better word to describe his behavior.

The promise was to court her. Instead he stayed away, ran from her to be exact. Chelsea MacTavish was not for him. He was a womanizer and a cad and never expected to be anything else. Bad boys didn’t change. Until he met Chels he had no intention of marrying until he was at least thirty-five and only because he wanted an heir. As his male friends claimed, he and his friends were the bad boys of Glasgow. Everyone knew they’d never reform.

Broc changed, he reminded himself. If one bad boy could do it, so could he. Blessed hell, but he wanted and yearned to have Chels in his arms, loving her for the rest of his life.

These last nine months had not been among his finer moments.

When Cam closed his eyes, when he tried to sleep, all he could see were Chelsea’s lips and he didn’t have to try very hard to recall the feel of them against his, their tongues dancing a beautiful duet. That night almost a year ago now had been a major mistake, one he was having a difficult time recovering from. When he saw her, in her quaint little hiding place staring at him, her sparkling, blue eyes huge which he read as desire, he couldn’t resist her.

It was not well done of him, but he had to have her.

The bad boys were gambling and when he noticed her, she bolted from the room, dashing through the hallway to hide behind a door. The challenge she issued was explicit in the shimmer of her eyes. If he had any sense about him, he would have left her there, knowing she wasn’t for him. Chelsea was a lady, and she deserved a gentleman who would treat her right. He could not leave though because he found himself inexorably drawn to her beguiling smile and passion-drenched eyes. A taste of her, he told himself, would be enough.

It wasn’t enough. That one taste created an appetite he couldn’t fill.

At the time, he believed that day had been the beginning of the rest of his life. She allowed him inside and he kissed her, not a chaste kiss, not one he might give a woman he was courting. No, this kiss was meant to seduce, raw and hungry, deliciously sensual. He found he wanted her in the most elemental and primal ways, and he craved to be her first lover.

Nothing else would do for him.

The wonderful thing was, he paused in thought to sip the brandy he poured for himself, well, she seemed to want him as much as he did her. She didn’t resist or tell him no even though he suggested she do that very thing several times. The feel of her breast beneath his hand, the hardened nipple veiled by the fabric of her gown, haunted him day and night, awake and asleep. He should not have touched her so brazenly, but he’d been unable to resist her sweet siren’s call.

The very next day he met her again and made more promises to her, agreements he now understood he could never fulfill, not unless he reformed. Her brother, Flynt, was right. He wasn’t good enough for her. Hell, he never got rid of his mistress although that woman moved on when he stopped seeing her almost to the day he first kissed Chelsea. He’d been celibate for nine long months. Laughing at the irony, he downed the glass of brandy before throwing the crystal glass against the wall and watching it shatter into a million tiny pieces.

The violence didn’t make him feel better.

The idea of properly courting a woman, not just any woman but Chelsea MacTavish, was not something he could wrap his mind around. When he was with her, all he could think about was stripping her naked and tasting every inch of her beautiful body. Bloody eyes, but he didn’t even know what she looked like naked but he could fantasize. His imagination kept him in a state of constant arousal.

“What did that glass do to you?” Flynt MacTavish, Chelsea’s older brother and proclaimed guardian of the MacTavish sisters clapped him on the shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to the game so I can win more money from you.”

The need to rid himself of the primal energy and sexual thoughts surrounding Chelsea pulsed through him. A ride and a cold swim in the river would do just fine. After all, it was almost dawn. Maybe he could reach his house near the ocean by the evening. Suitable company even for the other bad boys, he was not.

“You wouldn’t like it if I told you,” he said, smiling as he once more relived the few kisses he shared with Flynt’s sister. “If you knew, you might string me up by my balls.”

He roared with laughter. “That bad? Try me and it better not have anything to do with one of my sisters.”

Cam was shaking his head, pacing the room now. “No. Like I told you. You wouldn’t like my thoughts. Might even skewer me through.” Cam laughed at the thought, knowing it was the truth.

“You want another glass of brandy?” Donal, another bad boy, stood by his side. “Don’t know what’s wrong, but it’s got to have something to do with a woman.”

“Like to drown in it.” Cam knew a ride, a cold swim, nothing would stop the constant ache except possessing Chelsea, perhaps not even then would he find relief.

“That can be arranged,” Leslie said, smirking as if he knew what was going through his head. “Let’s get back to the game or call it quits so I can still find some bliss in my mistress’ arms tonight.”

“I’m not good company. Do whatever you like.” Cam sat down on a chair, one leg slung over the arm, the other stretched out in front of him. The nearly full bottle of brandy sat on the table beside him. If he had it his way, he’d finish it tonight before crashing for a few hours.

“If it’s not your mistress, who has you needing to see double and wake up with a pounding head?” Flynt asked, still laughing too hard for Cam’s taste. “Must be a pretty special woman then. She denying you heavenly comforts or are you going to go the way of Broc and settle down, babies and all?”

Cam frowned at him, feeling the effects of too much alcohol and realizing the truth of Flynt’s words. “Hardly going down that road.” He didn’t dare say more. If Flynt discovered his feelings for one of his little sisters, he’d keep Chelsea locked in her room until she turned thirty. Even her grams who seemed to take over the finding of suitable husbands for the MacTavish women wouldn’t be able to persuade Flynt to hand over the key.

“Not until you’re thirty,” Leslie reminded them.

“Thirty-five, and she’ll be out of the picture by then,” Cam muttered, wishing he hadn’t said the words but beginning to lose control of his thoughts and speech. Sullenly, he poured more brandy and hoped that in his drunken state he wouldn’t reveal the woman of his dreams.

“Think it’s time to leave this man to wallow in his misery. If you want the lady, do something about getting her. Shouldn’t be too hard for a man of your specific talents,” Flynt said, chuckling. “After all, what parent or guardian wouldn’t welcome you into their fold? You’ve inherited money as well as a steady income. You’re moderately good looking. Face it, you’re a catch worthy of any young woman.”

Any but a MacTavish lady. He was glad he had enough control not to say the words aloud. Or did he? The scowl on Flynt’s face told him something else or was it a scowl. He downed the glass before closing his eyes and willing his friends from his townhouse. Truth be told he needed to wallow in his misery and wake up to a pounding head as well, just to remind him that he had to change his ways if he was going to court the woman of his dreams.

“You should see your mistress. A good douse of carnal sex might relieve the ache between your legs.” Donal pulled his coat from the stand. “I’ll see all of you next week at my place.” Then he left.

“Good night,” Leslie said, following in Donal’s footsteps.

“Suppose I’ll take my leave also. You’re not in any condition to be good company. My suggestion,” he paused, “find the chit and make love to her until you get her out of your system,” Flynt said as he too exited Cam’s home.

When the door closed behind Flynt MacTavish, Cam let out a loud roar of laughter. Find the chit and make love to her until you get her out of your system, he recalled the words. And wouldn’t you just be the happiest guardian in the world when I threw your words in your face? Unknowingly, Flynt just gave him permission to ravish his sister.

Chelsea deserved more than that kind of behavior from a suitor. Yet that was exactly why he didn’t court her. He knew he would do just that, make love to her until…

…but he didn’t believe for a second he would ever get her out of his system.

The ticking of the clock was now the only sound he heard until the birds began to chirp nonstop. Sunlight filled the room and the pounding in his head was incessant. Squinting his eyes, he breathed in deeply, willing the alcohol-induced pain to vanish. Still, his head throbbed and his gut churned. A quick massage to the back of his neck as well as his temples did nothing to alleviate the horrendous problem.

Too many mornings he woke in this condition in a fervent yet unsuccessful attempt to rid Chelsea MacTavish from his thoughts. If he could go back to that night so many months ago, he would have never followed her into that empty room, never would have kissed her or felt her heart beat beneath his hand. Just the thought of the way her soft womanly curves felt against the hard planes of his body had him aroused and aching.

Rising, he ran his fingers through his hair until he was sure it was standing on end. His servant left a pot of hot coffee for him, anticipating his needs and when he wandered through his home, he found a still steaming bath had been left for him. Stripping, and with the cup of coffee in hand, he settled into the water, pretending he was ready to start his day.

Once more his imagination got the best of him though. He needed to do something about his condition. No other woman would do for him and he knew it. So, he would have to change the course of his actions but to what?

He had no idea how to court a lady properly. All he knew was how to bed them and give them pleasure. This was a predicament if bedding and pleasure weren’t prerequisites for courting. He would have to make it a point to ask someone who might know. Problem was, he didn’t really know or trust anyone like that.

Bloody hell, but he wasn’t going to allow some other man to win over Chelsea’s heart. He finished his coffee as well as his bath before heading off to the university. Some of his proper and stuffy colleagues might have some advice for him.

In the hallway and near his office, “Cam, you teaching today?”

“No, just have some paperwork then I’m heading home. Got business to attend to.” The first matter on hand was to ride out to the MacTavish estate and discover if Chelsea was home and, in the process, get permission from Flynt to court her. Rumor was since Broc Wallace purged the waters, Flynt was a bit easier to deal with.

“Cam.” Another colleague approached him. “What are you doing here today? You’re not scheduled to lecture.”

“Looking for advice and you’re just the man I’d like to hear from.” Cam opened the door to his office, waiting for his associate to join him.

“Advice from me?” Leod Donovan asked, pointing to his now puffed up chest. “Seems unusual. You’ve always appeared confidant. Never asked me anything before.”

“Have a seat.” Cam gestured to a chair while he removed his coat, thinking about what he should say or ask. He knew this man was courting someone, his gut clenching when he thought the woman might be Chelsea, but he also understood the man might have something more to offer than he could see on the surface.

The man cleared his throat, running a finger around his collar as if it was too tight. “What do you want?”

“Need to learn how you court a woman properly,” Cam said, watching Leod’s face turn a brilliant shade of red as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He poured two glasses of whiskey before holding one out to the man who ignored him. In one gulp he downed his, more curious now than he’d ever been.

“You’re asking me that?” He coughed in a feeble attempt to clear his throat. “Don’t know why you need help with something like courting. Heard you were a Casanova, one of the self-proclaimed bad boys in town. You shouldn’t need help in that department.”

For a moment, Cam was taken aback. He’d never thought of himself as a Casanova. He enjoyed women, true, but he never took advantage of a situation, at least not until he met Chelsea MacTavish and she had practically begged him to kiss her.

“Don’t need to know why. My reasons are my own. Understand you’re courting a young lady. Just have to know what’s proper and what is not.” Cam wasn’t at all sure this conversation was going anywhere, and as the seconds passed, he was surer than ever this colleague would never be able to shed light on his question.

“Like what?” The man squirmed, fidgeting with his neck cloth. “What you’re really asking me isn’t apparent. I’ve heard stories about your prowess where it comes to women. I’m not like that. I don’t bed every woman I call on, wouldn’t want to in any case.”

Cam waved his hand in the air. He also didn’t bed everyone woman of his acquaintance. “Whiskey?” he queried again then immediately had a second thought on that matter.

“Don’t drink.”

“Mind if I do?” Cam understood how drinking might make this man uncomfortable. He would be shocked to learn Chelsea liked her brandy and wine. That was all he knew about her except the fact he craved her and she was sweet. Well, he also knew first-hand how she melted in his arms and the way her blue eyes shone with raw passion when he kissed her and how her beautiful blond hair shimmered in the sunlight.

“It’s your office.”

“I’ll take that as a confirmation that you don’t care.” Cam poured a second glass of whiskey then sat on the edge of his desk, watching the man. Not liking the idea that people, his colleagues, talked about him behind his back, he asked? “What do you know about my, er, prowess with women?”

The man wiped his sweaty forehead with his forearm, “Just talk. You’ve had more than one mistress, I’ve heard. Women swoon when you walk by. No, perhaps that was an exaggeration. Not really sure in any case.”

“True, all true.” He tossed back the whiskey and grinned. “That’s one of the reasons I’m asking for advice. While I’m an expert where it comes to mistresses and giving a woman her pleasure, I’ve no idea what a man can and can’t do with a proper lady when they are courting. Do you give your women pleasure?”

“What?” Leod sputtered.

“Never mind, let’s get back to courting part of this conversation.”

“For instance…”

“Have you kissed this woman you’ve been seeing?” Cam asked, pretty sure what the answer would entail if he went into detail.

“Once,” he confessed, the shade of his face had not changed since the first questions. His visage was still a brilliant crimson.

“And was this kiss chaste? A peck on the cheek or did you take her mouth into yours and taste her. Did you stick your tongue between her lips and deep inside her mouth?” Why the devil was he provoking this man when all he wanted was some answers to important questions?

Leod stood quickly, rocking the chair he’d been sitting on. “Sir.”

“I take it there were no tongues involved.” He rose, striding to the window. Looking over campus, he watched the people walking around and wondering just how many of those students would react to his question the same as his colleague. Perhaps he was a bad boy. He realized then he didn’t like Leod at all.

“No, no, of course not. A gentleman wouldn’t do such a thing. A peck on the cheek is all that is proper, if you must know. Nothing more, no body parts involved.” He was breathing hard and sweating profusely, clearly agitated by his questions.

Cam couldn’t help himself. He sighed heavily, understanding all too well he would never be able to keep his hands to himself let alone his tongue where Chelsea was concerned. The thing was, he didn’t believe she would ever tell him no. “Haven’t you ever wondered what it would feel like to taste the woman you want to marry before the nuptials? What do you think?”

The man was shaking his head back and forth while he righted his chair and sat down. “No, no I haven’t. Don’t know what you mean by tasting. Doesn’t seem at all proper to me.”

For a moment Cam thought the man might swoon. “You should really try it sometime. I can find you a lady of the night who is clean, a woman who could teach you how to make love to a woman so she has her pleasure not just you. You don’t want to be selfish, do you?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, droplets of sweat running down his face and into his shirt, his armpits soaked through.

“Would you like a woman to teach you?” Cam persisted, wishing all men would discover the secrets before they wed. Women deserved better than fumbling fingers and grunts that led nowhere.

He could still remember the woman his father brought him to at the tender age of fourteen. The lady was a widow. Her husband left his fortune to his son from another woman, failing to provide for his wife. At the time the lady needed funds just to live. He also remembered just how beautiful she was. If he ever had a son, he would make sure he treated his boy to that very valuable education.

“I can’t imagine doing such a thing.”

Cam turned his attention back to his associate, discovering a bit of disdain for this pious self-satisfied man. “Have you held her hand? Traced tiny intoxicating circles on her wrists and heard the first tiny sounds of desire a woman makes when she likes what you are doing?” Cam was beside himself. This was turning out to be detrimental to his case.

The man was sputtering now, “I’ve held her hand but not the other. Why would I want to do that?”

“You should try it, and you could suck her fingers into your mouth. I guarantee you’ll enjoy the tiny sounds of pleasure your actions will cause. You do want to pleasure your woman.”

“Professor MacEwen, I daresay the things you are proposing are outrageous, very improper. Doing those things would ruin my reputation. Why, people would talk about me the way they do you.”

Cam grinned again, wondering for a moment how people talked about him but then realizing he didn’t really care. “Of course they are improper. That’s why I needed to know how to approach this woman properly. You see…” He was about to tell this stuffy and oh too prim man that he’d done all he’d said with the very woman his colleague might be courting. No, he hadn’t sucked her fingers into his mouth but he would. Not for a moment did Cam believe Chelsea would ever give her heart to a man who only kissed her chastely on the cheek. At least that’s what he presumed had been done.

“I don’t see anything at all,” he objected. “The young lady I’m seeing would never allow me to do such things and neither would her brother, Mr. MacTavish. I would most likely go to hell if I only tried.”

Cam let out a huge sigh, realizing suddenly he might have been giving the man ideas. The last thing he wanted was for this man to taste any part of Chelsea. “Yes, yes, I suppose you’re right. It was a crazy notion of mine, and you haven’t touched her breast either, felt her nipple tighten beneath your hand. That is all good and proper. I’ll try to remember your advice.”

Cam couldn’t stop the outrageous statements. Truth be told he had no interest in making his coworker uncomfortable, but jealousy swept through him the moment the man told him he’d kissed her and held her hand. He was pretty sure this person would never follow through with his suggestions, thank god.

Months had passed since he touched Chelsea, and his body pulsed with need night and day just to see her let alone run his hands along her waist to her breasts kiss her deeply. Bloody hell, but he was going insane just thinking, talking about sex with Chelsea’s face prominent in his head.

Imagining himself sitting next to Chelsea while doing nothing more than holding her hand made him sweat. Where she was concerned, control like that didn’t exist for him, and he realized he was doomed before he even began to try the proper way to court her.

The man stood, starting for the door. “This is all none of your business and very inappropriate.” He left, slamming the door behind him.

Cam plopped down on the chair behind his desk, closing his eyes, head back and wondering what the devil he was going to do about courting Chelsea. The man was right, of course. Flynt wouldn’t let him anywhere near his sister. Flynt knew all too well his reputation around women. They’d honed that very reputation together.

But what would her grams, Catherine, do? Probably feed him ginger cookies. He groaned. In any case, she was the official guardian now having assumed the position after Flynt made so many mistakes with Bliss, the oldest sister. Of course Catherine would never approve of him either. If she knew the things he and Chelsea had already done, she would ban him from the home.

All I need do is behave myself when the older woman is close and if I’m lucky enough to find privacy, well then, I don’t have to behave. He smiled, realizing right then his next stop would be the MacTavish townhouse. He’d prolonged this moment far too long. Chelsea was in town for the next few days. He remembered that he heard that tidbit from Flynt just last night.

Playing by the rules had never been a strong suit of his. Now, if his end game were to be achieved, he would have to do just that at least around the chaperones.

Play by the rules… A new concept for him, one he meant to cultivate where it was advantageous.

A different colleague poked his head into his office, laughing. “Heard you’ve been asking questions about proper courting.”

“You heard right…” Cam was no longer in the mood, his answer sounding gruff.

“Got a drink for me? I can tell you many a tale if that’s what you’d like,” he told him.

“I think I’ve heard enough about proper and prim. Not something that appeals to me.”

The man let his head fall back, roaring with laughter. “She’s really got you by the balls, doesn’t she?”

Cam thought about that for a second. “True.” His eyebrows rose a notch, studying his friend. “I want her and the only way I can have her is to seduce her or court her.”

“I know which I’d prefer,” the man said. “But do you want her for more than a week or two or is this for a lifetime?”

Cam felt his nerves begin to snap while his fingers tightened around his glass. “Don’t know yet.” He hadn’t thought that far ahead. What did he want? Now, he needed her this very moment.

“You should make up your mind before it’s too late for either scenario. If you seduce her and toss her away, you’ll ruin her life as well as her prospects for a decent marriage. If you seduce her and mean to keep her as your wife, your life will change in too many ways to count.”

“I’m not a cad,” he growled, yet at the same time marriage had never been in his thoughts. His plan was to marry when he turned thirty-five and not a moment before. He wanted an heir too. He was only twenty-four, eons stretched in front of him before he would need to make a commitment.

“If you go through with your plans, you will be just that, a cad, unless of course, this lady is mistress material. Hardly believe that though. You’d already have her set up in your old mistress’ home if that were true.”

Cam drummed his fingers on his desk, thinking and wondering if his set-in stone plans could change. Chelsea would never wait for him eleven years. She would be wed and bedded before he could blink.

He thought nine months had been a long time to stay away from her. Hell, eleven years was a lifetime. What to do?

“Think about what I said.” His colleague left.

Silence, cold and hard, echoed in Cam’s ears. Everything he planned and saved for would vanish in a blink if he let go of his dreams. Yet, he craved Chelsea, his body did anyway. Wasn’t there more to a relationship than just sex or lust? He didn’t have an answer for that. Sex, for him, had always been the driving force where women were concerned.

Bad boys, he mused thoughtfully. They all had been christened as such, by themselves of course. Now the community did the same.

Bad boy, what’s she gonna do when I come for her?

Cam was determined to do just that. He was coming for her and he craved her in every way a man craved a woman. She would have to tell him no if they ever found privacy or he would teach her everything he knew about lovemaking.

So far she’d never told him no. Chelsea was older now though. And he’d also ignored her for a significant amount of time.

Anything could happen.

~ * ~

“There’s a young man waiting for you downstairs,” Catherine told her granddaughter as she stepped inside Chelsea’s bedroom, a large grin on her face. “He seems a bit impatient to see you. While he was polite enough, there was an edge to his voice.”

“And he wants to sit in the parlor and talk?” Chelsea asked, incredulous. “I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime. I don’t even want any of these men Flynt has found to court me for a friend, let alone a partner for life.” No, she craved more and the only man who could fill that had lost interest in her despite his promises.

“You should at least give this man a chance,” Grams said.

“Why?” she asked stubbornly.

“Most who have courted you don’t know how to ride a horse, and I for one am heartily glad I don’t have to chaperone you and your suitors in a carriage. Sitting in the parlor and engaging in polite conversation is just fine with me.” Catherine laughed, still smiling fondly at her granddaughter. “I would have your word you won’t let this beau touch you below the waist though or do anything but kiss. Kisses are just fine.”

How was this man different from the others? For a few seconds she stared out the window, wishing no one was downstairs and she could go for an unchaperoned ride all by herself. She knew just where she would go if given the chance. No, she wouldn’t. It would only make her recall Cam and his kisses, the way he played her body. Not chaste, dry kisses her suitors had given her on the cheek, but deep soul shattering, heat raising delicious kisses only Cam could give her. She wanted to taste him again and feel his tongue dance with hers.

Then, with a heavy sigh and a reluctance to exist in the next few hours, “Why would I have to give my word now? Most of the men who visit me don’t touch my hand let alone somewhere below my waist. I’m really not up to this, Grams. Tell him to go away.”

“Stop moping around. You’ve got the rest of your life in front of you. If you want him to go away, you’ll have to tell the man yourself. I don’t want to hear what you have to say if he leaves without your seeing him,” Catherine said with another chuckle while she smoothed her skirts and donned an exasperating look.

“You’re far too secretive for my taste. Just spit it out. Tell me who this man is, and I’ll make the decision. I’ll tell him to go away if that’s what I want.” Chelsea was plucking at her skirt, nervous energy seeming to sweep through her. The air around her seemed charged with raw energy.

“Tell who to go away,” Daryl and Lacey, two of her sisters joined them, plopping down on the bed together. “Tell us. Who exactly do you want to go away?”

“Whoever it is in the parlor,” Chelsea began with a huff and a very negative attitude. “I don’t know who it is, and I really don’t care anymore. I’m never going to marry anyone anyway. Grams seems to think I’d like to see this man. Don’t know why.” Considering suitors just to make Flynt and Grams happy had her exhausted and wishing she could run away to some island and never have to talk to or see another man.

“Would you like us to see who it is for you?” Lacey asked, cocking her head to the side as if she was studying her. Then she grinned, her signature Lacey smile that told Chelsea her sister had something devilish in mind. “I know I’d want to know who was waiting for me in the parlor, especially if Grams thinks you might want to see him.”

“Who would you like to see, Chelsea?” Daryl asked, prompting her curiosity as Daryl well knew there was only one man she would consider, and he was on her bad side now. Cam broke promises to her. “You can narrow down the possibilities if you look at the situation that way.”

The only man she’d like to see right now was Cam just so she could tell him what she thought of the abandonment as well as the broken promise. She wanted to rail at him and hit him until she felt better inside. Anger at his rejection of her simmered deep inside, had for the last nine months, growing more as each day passed. At her sides her fists clenched and unclenched, frustrated that there was nothing she could do about this situation. Obviously, she couldn’t just show up at his townhouse. If she were a man, she could call him out.

Irritated, she crossed her arms in front of her then clenching her teeth, she gritted out just for spite, “I don’t want to see anyone. They can all go…they can go…”

“Jump in a lake. Perhaps that would be a good remedy for what is probably ailing your man. Of course it would have to be an icy cold one,” Grams offered with a wink as if she knew something no one else knew. “I’ll tell him you’re under the weather and he can come by tomorrow. That should suffice for today, but you’ll need another excuse tomorrow and the next day and probably the one after that.”

“Why would you get rid of him today just to invite him back tomorrow?” Chelsea asked, now furious with her grandmother. “It’s obvious to most people that your words make no sense. If I didn’t know better, I’d wager you’re playing matchmaker and that has to stop.”

“No.” Lacey blocked the way, holding her hands out to stop her grams from leaving the room. “Let me see who it is then you can decide. Is that alright? We shouldn’t make this permanent, at least not yet. It might be Cam.”

“I don’t want to see him either.”

“Of course you do,” Lacey said. “Quit acting like a fool and denying yourself something you desperately want, the one person who has you moping around the house. Grams is not the only one who is tired of your moods.”

Chelsea wasn’t sure how to react to her well-meaning sisters and the groping suitors who came to see if she would be a suitable wife for them. This had to be another one just like the others. The man downstairs wasn’t Cam. She wasn’t anyone’s suitable wife. “I suppose you can go see. Nothing you discover will make me want to go somewhere with whoever it is or sit in the parlor and talk nonsense about the weather or who is performing at the theater. And I won’t pretend for anyone that I don’t like brandy and wine.”

“Good, then it’s settled. You’ll have much needed information to make up your mind with.” She turned to Daryl, grinning as if she couldn’t wait to see who sat in their parlor. “You coming with me?”

“Keep me away? Not on your life. I bet it’s Cam,” Daryl said, just as the pair exited the room. “And what do you suppose she’ll do if it is him?”

“Maybe he’s finally come to his senses. We’ll be back in a few minutes with the valued information. Don’t go anywhere,” Lacey said when she turned to look at her over her shoulder.

“Where would I go?” Chelsea sighed softly with a little emphasizing lift of her shoulders. Almost nine months ago she’d seen a future with Cam, now… There was nothing now and if it was Cam in the parlor, what the bloody eyes did he want? To play with her emotions before he left her again? She wasn’t going to allow that to happen. He’d have to get down on his knees and grovel on the floor before she’d consent to anything he might have planned.

“You could sneak down the servant’s staircase. If you got to your horse before anyone knew what you were doing, well…you could be miles away before the man knew you’d left the house just to get away from him,” Lacey said, returning to the room to further irritate her.

“If it’s Cam waiting for you down there when he found out, I bet he’d go after you and just like on that night you’d let him catch you,” Daryl said, also returning, pointing a knowing finger at her. “You’d do it again, let him catch you, kiss you, fondle parts of you, intimate parts.”

“I did not do that.” Chelsea protested to no avail, understanding just how astute her sisters were. “Would not,” she protested, but her voice was weak and she knew the lie.

“You told us you did and you also told us he kissed you. Is that why you don’t like any of the other suitors? They can’t kiss like Cam?” Lacey asked, now tapping her toe impatiently and seeming a bit reluctant to accomplish her mission.

Bliss walked into the room. “What’s Cam doing downstairs? He finally come to his senses? Did he decide he wanted to court you properly?”

“You ruined our fun,” Lacey said, hands on her hips, a pout on her pretty face. “We were teasing Chelsea about her anonymous suitor, and now she knows Cam is waiting to see her.”

“I don’t understand.” Bliss sat down next to Catherine. “What are you talking about?”

“Chelsea’s debating whether or not she wants to go downstairs and talk to him. Of course until this moment, she didn’t know it was Cam waiting for her,” Daryl said. “Now that she knows, she should be racing down the steps eager to tell him what she thinks.”

“Really, Chelsea.” Grams leaned over and placed her hand on hers. “You absolutely should see what he wants. You might be pleased. I’m certain I don’t want to watch you mope around the house for another second let alone another nine months. Go see the man and stop wallowing in self-pity. This might well be the dawn of a new life for you.”

“How can I just forgive that man after what he did?” Chelsea felt betrayed and abused by him. He made promises to her he didn’t keep. “I can’t trust him now, never will.”

Grams chuckled softly, “He’s a man. You will have to learn that where their women as well as their hearts are concerned, they don’t seem to know what they want. I’m sure he meant what he said at the time, as I’m also sure he will move heaven and earth for you to grant your forgiveness.”

“They want sex,” Bliss said softly, smiling as if she understood the opposite sex better than most. “Nothing else matters to them until other things jump in and blind side them. Deny him what he wants the most and see what happens.”

“Look how that worked out for you.” Chelsea couldn’t help the sarcasm. “You barely had your babies before Broc wed you.”

“That’s just it. I didn’t deny him anything, and it took forever to work out, forever for him to come to the recollection he loved me and wanted me in his life,” Bliss said. “Perhaps if I’d told him no…”

“Flynt still wouldn’t have let him court you,” Lacey said and that was the crux of Bliss’ problem. “You forged the way for the rest of us, even though nothing is perfect yet.”

“That wasn’t how it all started though. Even before…well I allowed Broc to do things I shouldn’t have,” Bliss said.

“And he won’t let Cam court me anymore than he would have let Broc court you. Perhaps I should visit him at his townhouse and get pregnant.”

“No!” They all chorused.

Then Catherine cleared her throat, “Lest you forget, I’m in charge of those chaperone duties now, not Flynt. Getting yourself with child is not the solution. It might be a means to an end but never the answer.”

“Flynt doesn’t understand the fact you are now our guardian. He’s still searching out men who he deems worthy husband material and presenting them to me.”

“Where are the twins?” Grams asked in a not very subtle attempt to change the subject.

“Broc needed to see Flynt for some reason I didn’t quite understand. He has the babies, and I’m sure he will bring the twins to me as soon as either one starts crying or needs a diaper change. Right now he just wants to show off his heirs. So, I’m going to enjoy a few minutes with my sisters.”

“You’re sure it’s Cam you saw?” Chelsea asked, her heart in her throat while she tried to figure out what she would say to the hideous man. If she should chastise him for leaving her alone for so long without a word as to why, or if she should count her blessing and try to find some time alone with him.

“Yes,” Bliss said, “I’m sure I know who he is and that I saw Cam. If you want him, you have to decide how to proceed. Walking down those stairs to the parlor could be the first step toward a new tomorrow. Staying here, well, it certainly won’t put you one step further in your quest to wed him.”

“What does that mean? How to proceed?” She breathed in long and deep, her emotions in a jumble of incoherent thoughts that made no sense. “Walking down a set of stairs won’t change the fact he broke his promise and my heart. Won’t change the fact he abandoned me for whatever reason.”

“Can I assume you’ve allowed him liberties you’ve granted to no one else?” Bliss asked, prying into Chelsea’s private life. “Of course you don’t have to answer anyone but yourself.”

Chelsea gazed at Catherine then back to Bliss, unwilling to say the truth with Grams present even while she understood her sisters knew most of what happened between herself and Cam. She licked her lips before sucking the bottom one between her teeth.

“I did let him kiss me, a couple of times and I—they made me…” she paused, staring at Bliss as if waiting for an answer.

“As if you can’t think,” Grams answered for her. “As if you don’t have any bones in your body. Dear, we’ve all been there. And some of us, including me, have given liberties to their men they shouldn’t have. You have nothing to be ashamed of or feel guilty about. If you didn’t care for Cam MacEwen, you wouldn’t have let him kiss you or touch you either.”

“When you’re in love it’s terribly hard to deny them anything. Especially when they caress you in certain ways,” Bliss said with a starry eyed look. Then shrugging, “I still can’t deny Broc when he looks at me in a certain way.”

“I never thought you lacked courage,” Daryl said directly to Chelsea. “You’ve always been the boldest and the most fearless; a bricky lass is what everyone calls you. Don’t change now. Act before it’s too late and you have regrets.”

“You all really think I should go see what he wants?” Chelsea felt her knees begin to wobble. “Not sure I can actually walk down those steps. I’ll most likely fall flat on my face.”

“He’ll be there to pick you up,” Daryl laughed, “and that will give him another chance to kiss you.”

“Put on that beautiful blue day dress with the Belgium lace you purchased the last time we went shopping. We can all help you and lace the corset tight so you have the tiniest waist. He won’t be able to resist you,” Grams spoke fondly to her. “Bliss can help you with your hair and Lacey, you go down and keep Cam company until Chelsea looks more than presentable.”

“I’d like that. I used to talk to Broc, too, but I never knew it was you, Bliss, who he fell in love with. He was always so elusive and secretive. At least this time I know the woman of his choice, and I can give him the proper incentive to treat you right.” With that set, the youngest of the MacTavish clan vanished from the room so quickly it seemed she wasn’t even there.

“What if he doesn’t wait for me? We’ve all been talking for quite some time. He might have left already.” Chelsea felt a wave of insecurity pass through her as her sisters and grandmother dressed and coifed her. Cam was a busy man, although she didn’t know what he did to make money. It had always seemed he was on the go doing this or that.

“Some powder on your cheeks, a bit of tint to the eyelids and lips; after that we’ll blacken your lashes and you’ll be even more gorgeous than you are already.”

“It’s time,” Bliss said, holding out her arms before twirling her around. “I’ll walk down the steps with you. Steady you if you think you’re going to fall. You can do this. Cam is a lucky man if he can catch you. Mark my words, don’t make courtship too easy for him. It’s best if they have to work a little bit.”

“You don’t have to hold me,” Chelsea whispered, discovering the corset was cinched in so far she could barely take a breath. “Really, I want to think I’m a grown woman even though at the moment I’m realizing I’m not acting that way.”

“I’m sure Broc is ready to hand over the twins. He’s lasted longer than I expected.” Bliss patted Chelsea on the hand. “As soon as you say the word, we can confront this man you want.”

Chelsea nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

In the parlor, Chelsea’s feet seemed to freeze to the floor. Not only did Cam sit in the room, but also the sultan as well as someone who’d been here once before. When she first saw Cam, she had the horrific urge to run into his arms then anger began to build inside. He abandoned her and as Bliss told her, he should have to work for her affections.

If he crooked his little finger, she’d undoubtedly give in to him and whatever it was he was asking for.

She fanned her hot face with her hand, yet she couldn’t seem to cool herself or the uncontrollable fury rising to the surface. Her gaze remained on Cam, but it was Arie, the sultan, who had followed Hope, Broc’s sister, to Scotland who seemed to understand her predicament.

Arie suddenly stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder as he bent close, “Are you all right? I will sweep you away from all this. Just say the word, my petite. We will run away together, you and I.”

“No.” She was shaking her head and trying to swallow, knees trembling. “That’s Cam.” She tried not to look at him again. “What does he want with me now?”

“I know who he is. If you recall you’ve told me a lot about what transpired between the two of you,” he whispered close to her ear, laughing. “May I escort you into the room where you can confront the beast? Be sure to make him beg before you forgive him as I know you will.”

Her shaking head turned to nodding while she remained thoughtless, very nearly spineless and without any notion of what was happening or how she would make him beg. Arie seemed to have this meeting under control. He brought her to a chair to sit in while he poured everyone a glass of wine and graciously handed the drinks out.

When she looked at Cam, he appeared so arrogant and cocky her fury grew. She would throttle him if they were left alone, beat his chest with her bare fists, toss her wine in his face. The silence echoed in the room as her discomfort grew.

“Well, it seems Chelsea has several suitors to choose from. This is such a fine day.” Catherine entered the parlor with her hands clasped in front of her. “The conversation does seem a bit boring, nonexistent to be exact. Perhaps,” and she turned to Chelsea with a look of encouragement on her face, “you would like to take a stroll in the gardens with one of these men.”

Cam stood as if she would pick him, but the way her sensibilities were tumbling all over themselves she dared not. Turning to Arie, she began, her heart pounding out of synch, “I think perhaps…”

He was quick to reject her preliminary choice, seeming to understand after seeing Cam she needed more time, “You should take this other man.” Then looking at the third man in the room, “What is your name?”

“Leod,” Chelsea said but she didn’t want to go for a walk with him in the gardens or anywhere else. “He’s been here before. I thought I made it perfectly clear to him. I did—”

Arie cut her off, seeming to have some other agenda in mind. “I would like to speak with Lord MacEwen privately. The viscount needs to understand a few things before he’s left alone with you. So, I’ll come find you as soon as I’ve had a word with him.”

“I don’t know why you’d want a word with me. I’ve nothing to say to you.” Cam rose, extending a hand to Chelsea and ignoring Arie. “I’ve come to see the lady and don’t want to speak with anyone else.”

“Go on,” Arie said with a smile and a push of his hands in the air. “Have faith in me and in what I plan to do here, petite. Go with Leod. One of us will be with you shortly.”

“I do have faith but…” She didn’t trust Cam one tiny bit, but she was coming to trust Arie even given his role here and what they all expected of him. He had come to reclaim Hope, who had run away from his father’s harem. The story was long and involved but despite his father’s intentions, Arie wasn’t attracted to Hope and Flynt was. Now Arie was just having fun, enjoying the Scottish atmosphere and the women in Glasgow as well. Chelsea didn’t think Arie ever had plans for Hope.

“Wait in the gazebo. Whoever survives this encounter will find you.” Arie laughed a full rich belly laugh.

“Come, Chelsea,” Leod said, holding out his arm. “I want to clear the air. We’ve much to talk about.”

Chelsea didn’t accept his arm but she did follow him. “Don’t talk to me as if I’m your lap dog. As far as I’m concerned, we’ve nothing in common, and therefore there is nothing further for us to speak of to each other. I’m only accompanying you because Arie asked.”

Leod looked back to the room then to Chelsea. “Of course I don’t think of you as my lap dog, you’re a woman. I’d prefer it if you accepted my arm.” His voice cracked when he said preferred.

“Don’t need any man’s arm to walk,” she muttered softly. “Been doing it alone since before I was one.” In truth she didn’t want to touch the loathsome man.

“What?” he demanded, touching her chin and making her look at him.

“Nothing.” She jerked away from his hold then inhaled, praying Arie would not be much longer and that he would also find a way to send Cam home. Despite feeling eager yet apprehensive to see Cam earlier, she no longer felt that way. Her anger was just too close to the surface and unpredictable as well.

Chelsea had no idea what Arie had been thinking sending her to the garden with Leod. He knew she didn’t want anything to do with this person who she despised and had express instructions along with her grams to turn him away if he ever came to the house again.

So, why had her wishes been so blatantly ignored?

Arie obviously didn’t know how to follow instructions or keep a promise and neither did Grams. “Men,” she muttered, hoping Leod didn’t hear her. They do exactly what they want, when they want.

Outside, the scent of roses filled the air as did the site of all the lovely summer flowers beginning to bloom. The blue sky and sunshine should have brightened her day but it didn’t. Chelsea tried desperately to keep her mind focused on herself and what she needed to say to both men. When Leod placed her hand in his, she cringed, jerking away, but he held it tight.

“Let me go,” she grit out. “I don’t want you to touch me.”

“Never.” His voice was gruff, determined and different from the way he usually spoke to her.

She told herself this was only for a few minutes more but when they walked into the gazebo and he placed an arm around her pulling her to him, she panicked. Her hands on his chest, she tried to push him away, but he was too strong. His lips slanted over hers while he forced his tongue inside her mouth.

Chelsea didn’t know where the strength came from, but she shoved him hard, screaming, “No!”

Turning, she ran into Cam’s arms, her body quivering and so grateful he was there for her. He held her close, her head on his chest while his hands ran the length of her trembling back. “I suggest you leave, Leod, and never return here,” Cam growled low in his throat. “Chelsea is mine.”

“You were the one who told me I should do that.” Leod tried to shift some of this problem on to Cam.

“Only to a willing woman. If you recall, I offered to find one for you. Chelsea seems far from agreeable.”

“I didn’t know we were courting the same woman,” Leod said, seeming to be taken aback by Cam’s appearance and the way he held Chelsea in his arms.

“We’re not.” Cam spoke calmly. “I’m the only man courting Chelsea. Best you don’t come around here again,” Cam reminded him.

This time Chelsea pushed away from Cam, staring into his eyes. “You told him to do that? Stick his tongue in my mouth?” She inhaled, coughing when she couldn’t get enough air.

“Yes and no.” Yet he didn’t release her but turned her and helped her to find a place to sit inside the gazebo.

“Yes and no, what the bloody eyes is that supposed to mean?” She couldn’t believe Cam would tell another man, anyone to do that to her. “You are a cad of the worst sort.”

“If you’ll have me, I’m your cad.”

“If…”

Sitting down beside her, he placed her hand in his, slowly tracing tiny circles on the underside of her wrist then running his fingertip up then down her arm. She shivered at the gentle strokes. “It’s a long story. Are you willing to listen?”

“Does it begin nine months ago?” She wanted a complete explanation. “You’re a cad,” she told him again, turning her head away, unwilling to fall victim to his compelling eyes as well as the wide charming grin that stole her heart every time he flashed it at her.

“Yes and no about the time period, not my being a cad. Where you’re concerned, I guess I deserve the title, but I intend to rectify that.” When she looked at him again, he placed a fingertip on her lips, stopping her comment. “Let’s start with my discretions and what happened this morning in my office.”

She meant to remain cautious. Cam could rip her heart out and tear it into tiny shreds if she let him. Arie had told her as much, caution, and don’t give him everything he asks for, her sister’s advice.

“I’m listening.” She moistened her lips, almost as if she anticipated a kiss.

“This morning I asked Leod for some advice, and I ended up giving him some of my own which, when I realized what I was telling him, he might apply to you since in the process I discovered he was courting you. At that point I wasn’t sure what to do, so I offered a willing woman to him, one who could teach him how to treat a lady.”

“You asked Leod for advice? I’ve a hard time believing that.” The confession nearly made her laugh and quite literally stole her anger for the moment. She would have to remain stronger.

He traced the line of her neck, sending goose bumps down her arms. “It’s the God’s honest truth, but I do find I won’t be able to use any of his advice. His way of courting just won’t work for me. I wanted to do this properly, and I’m still going to try but—”

“Why is that?” she interrupted, needing to run her finger along the smile forming on his lips. She realized instantly he would suck her finger into his mouth and she would allow him to do anything. If this was her version of not giving into this man, it wasn’t going to work.

“You’re just too beautiful and hard to resist,” Cam murmured, his mouth so close to her ear she felt his breath as he spoke. She thought he might touch the tip with his tongue.

“Cam…why really.” Her voice shook as her body seemed to be melting with desire for this man who treated her despicably.

“Because I’m going to kiss you like I did so long ago, not a chaste kiss but one where I’ll hear those tiny sounds in the back of your throat. The ones that make all of me smile.”

“Arrogant.” She did touch him then, traced his lips with her finger, wishing she dared give into everything he asked for. Perhaps that ploy would result in all her dreams coming true.

“Self-confidant.” He pulled her finger into his mouth, sucking, biting gently, licking, teasing. “I truly don’t like the word arrogant.”

“You didn’t do that before. Suck my finger into your mouth. What’s a girl supposed to do when she’s angry and wants you to beg forgiveness?” She closed her eyes, trying to inhale a deep breath of air and finding the task impossible. “Dear lord, my corset is too tight.”

He laughed, a deep belly laugh. “If you like, I can fix that.” His mouth descended on hers before she could answer. Her lips encased in his, his hands on both sides of her head holding her still, he slipped his tongue deep inside, played and dueled with her, nipping at her bottom lip.

She recalled all the vivid sensations as he bit and laved her mouth with his teeth and tongue. Over and over again, he kissed her and kissed her until her body cried out for him, for something more. She did want him to touch her breasts, cup them in his hands like he did before, run his thumb across her clothed nipple, perhaps even take the tip into his mouth as he did her fingers.

When they parted for a moment and he gazed into her eyes, “I really can’t breathe. Cam, I think I might faint.”

“I promised Arie I wouldn’t do anything to compromise you,” he whispered, even as his nimble fingers unfastened the buttons on the back of her dress. Before she understood what he was doing, he untied her corset then laced it back, much looser. “You should turn now. Not too sure if I can fasten the buttons without seeing the tiny things. Let it be known, though, this is the last thing I want to do at the moment.”

“Thank you.” She inhaled long and deep. “My sisters…”

“They did this to you? Truly I cannot understand anything about women’s clothing, least of all corsets.”

“They wanted me to look my best for you and well…a tiny waist…” She was amazed by the myriad of expressions crossing his face.

“Good god, woman, you’re so tiny without the corset I can wrap my hands around your waist. Why would you want to be smaller?”

She shrugged her shoulders, unable to think of an answer to his question but needing a diversion. “I’m still angry with you, Cam. Doesn’t matter that you kissed me and l liked it and want more. You have a lot of months to make up for, and I don’t intend to be an easy conquest. I’m not going to give my heart to you again and have you toss it away as if it’s worthless.”

“I’m just glad you still like my kisses.” His smile captured her heart again.

“I wanted to hit you and hit you until all the anger vanished, but I let you kiss me instead.”

“Ach lass, is the anger gone now?”

“Not yet.” She touched his lips again, needing more of him. “You should kiss me again and maybe I’ll forgive you.”

He roared with laughter. “So, if I kiss you again, you won’t be quite so angry and you won’t take your fury out on my humble man’s body. Hmm…should I just keep kissing you until there is no more fury to vanquish? Kissing. That’s my choice.”

“Or until Grams finds us. Don’t do anything that will have her banishing you from the house. I don’t think I could live through another desertion. Grams told me kissing was fine. Just kissing. Nothing below the waist.”

“And what would that be, my sweet one? What could I possibly want below your waist?” He laughed and she somehow thought he knew more than he was allowing her to know.

“I’m hardly sweet and you know that,” Chelsea protested, hitting him on the shoulder with her fisted hand.

“Not at all. Now, what would get me banished from the house?”

~ * ~

Arie handed Leod a glass of whiskey that he wished was laced with arsenic. “Drink this.” The sniveling little man tried to take liberties the lady didn’t want to give. Chelsea valiantly fought her own battle and won. He’d been a few steps behind Cam when he watched her shove Leod away.

“Don’t drink.” Leod told him. “Don’t like the stuff.”

“Very well. Let it be known from this day forward you’re not welcome to court the lady MacTavish. She doesn’t want your attentions nor does she like you. You need to set your sights on someone else, someone more appropriate for your expectations.” Arie cared more than he wanted to admit that Chelsea touched his heart. If she wasn’t so averse to becoming his fourth wife, he would spirit her away and make sweet love to her, make her forget Cam. Lord MacEwen didn’t deserve her.

“Why should I pay any attention to what you, a foreigner has to say?” Leod sneered, seeming to have no idea the power the sultan possessed. “I’ve no intention of finding a different woman.”

“Slavery is something my people enjoy. They’ve found it easy to abduct women and men to work for them, serve them in any way they please, physical labor as well as sexual slaves. There is little the various governments can do to stop them once a person disappears behind harem walls.” Arie spoke slowly and pointedly, watching the play of expressions on Leod’s face.

“You wouldn’t dare. I’m a free man. You have no right to enslave me.” His voice wavered on the last words.

“Only as long as I want you to remain free. Do something I don’t like…” The sultan spoke nonchalantly, staring at Leod, looking for any sign of weakness of which there were many.

While he was surprised his subtle threat didn’t seem to register with this man, he was pleased too. His unwillingness to believe would make the task so much easier if it ever came to his enslavement.

Arie could think of no greater pleasure than watching this man labor throughout the day for the rest of his life. Or, he paused in thought, he could sell him to another man as a paramour. The thought got better with each passing second, and he almost hoped Leod would defy him and in doing so test the truth of his words.

Leod didn’t have the courage for defiance. Arie was sure Leod would crumble to his will.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Leod asked. “I am free. I won’t work for any man unless it’s of my choosing.”

“You should look around you and see everything as it really is. My people don’t live by the same societal rules as you do. I’ve money, power, friends and the means to abduct you to my country. If I do so, you’ll never leave, never see Scotland again, and you will be under another man’s thumb for the rest of your life, and you will have to please that man if you value your life.” Arie knew just the man to sell Leod to.

Leod grumbled for a moment then chose not to speak.

“I was sent here for another purpose but found it didn’t appeal to me. You, on the other hand…” He let the sentence hang, wondering what spin Leod would put on this.

Leod downed his whiskey, sputtering and coughing as it seemed he felt the effects of the alcohol as it slithered down his throat. Then after setting the glass down hard, “Are you threatening me?”

“Of course not.” Arie loved the way this was beginning to play out. “Me? I would never threaten something so dastardly or a loyal Scotsman. This is just a version of what could happen in the future if you don’t play by my rules.”

Leod held his glass out silently, asking for more whiskey. “I should be able to do anything I want.”

Arie smiled while he filled Leod’s glass. Thoughts of getting this man so drunk he couldn’t think and putting him on ship bound for some place far away flitted through his head. He couldn’t though, but what he could do was serve him a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget and perhaps put fear into his heart.

“You can do anything but court Miss MacTavish,” Arie persisted as a plan slowly took shape in his head. “Where you are concerned, I’ve only one consideration, and that is for you to leave this lady alone.”

“I want her,” he said, his eyes closing. “Don’t want to give her up. One way or the other she will be my wife.”

Once more Arie filled Leod’s glass.

“Sadly, for you my friend, there is no choice in this matter,” Arie said before he nodded at one of his retainers. From the earlier conversation, the man in Arie’s employ must have guessed his intent and left to return a few glasses of whiskey later.

“Where is she?” Leod stood, unable to keep his balance sat down. “Need to say goodbye.”

“Let my men help you to your carriage, or did you ride a horse?”

Leod held up his glass, “Like this stuff better than I ever thought possible.”

Arie obliged as he smiled and watched his men escort him from the house. His man stopped, waiting for further directions.

“Take him into town, strip him of all his clothes save his small clothes and leave him in the town square. No, perhaps you should leave him naked. If that doesn’t bring the point home, nothing will.”

“Or we can resort to stronger measures.”

“Only if he doesn’t learn the lesson we are teaching him.” Arie sat back, grinning and thoroughly enjoying the scenario he set in motion.