It's Getting Scot in Here (The Wild Wicked Highlanders #1)

His brows lifted. “That’s what ye reckon I yearn for? Herbs and sheep?”

“I thought you’d want to take me somewhere Scottish, but I couldn’t think of anywhere nearby you might choose.” At least she’d tried to come up with something. “Nothing nearby enough for a three-hour visit, anyway.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “If ye’ve nae objection, though, I want my brothers—my family—to know ye.”

She hid a shudder as she recalled the largest member of his family. “I’m well acquainted with Eloise and Lady Aldriss, you know. And I have … met both your brothers.”

“Aye. This time ye be yerself, and they’ll behave.” He cupped her cheek, his green eyes shadowed and serious in the gloom of the coach, and only lowered his hand when Jane slapped at him. “Ye’re safe with me. I swear on my own blood. But if ye dunnae wish to go, ye tell me. I’ll find a sheep farm we can tour straightaway. Because ye know a Highlander can spot a sheep from five miles away.”

There he went, putting her at ease again. Was he even conscious of how … not comfortable, but safe, he made her feel? And how that made her realize it had been a very long time since she’d felt precious to anyone? Being in his company was heady, and could easily be addictive. Was already addictive. “Oswell House is fine,” she said aloud, ignoring Jane’s sniff. “I have been wanting a chance to have a word with Lady Aldriss.”

“That doesnae sound promising, but do as ye will,” he said in a dubious voice. “Keep in mind that she barely knows me. Ye cannae take what she says too seriously.”

That hadn’t been her goal, but seeing his discomfiture did make her grin. “Do you think she’ll warn me to flee?”

“I did start a bit of a brawl in her breakfast room just the other day. For a good reason, of course.”

That must have been when he fought Coll. “I’m going to assume you were defending my honor in some way, and I can hardly fault you for that.”

“That’s what it was, then. Aye.”

If Jane had been elsewhere, Amelia-Rose would have been willing to call this short coach ride very nearly perfect. She would have been content to chat with Niall and just look at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking and feeling. She’d liked him almost immediately. When had that, though, deepened into this warm, comforting, arousing desire to be with him? As she considered it, she had to wonder if it had begun with that first morning of coffee. If she’d begun to fall for him days and days ago, had that been part of why she’d spoken so harshly to Coll? Not just because she didn’t want that life, but because she had a slightly different one in mind?

It would never happen, of course, and she wanted it anyway. She’d wanted it so much that she’d allowed him into her bed. And if the opportunity arose she meant to do it again. Repeatedly. “You’re a good man, Niall MacTaggert.”

“I dunnae know about that.” His pale gaze took her in from head to foot in a way that heated her up from the inside. “Some of the things I’m thinking right now arenae nice. I’d describe them to ye in great detail, but I’m scared yer companion might be armed.” He sent Jane a sideways glance.

“Then you just keep worrying that I am, Mr. MacTaggert.”

The coach stopped. A second later the door opened, and the Oswell House butler unfolded the steps and reached in to offer her a hand. “Good afternoon, Miss Baxter.”

“Smythe. Thank you.”

The butler ushered them inside the house to shed their wraps. Niall stopped in the kitchen to towel off his damp mane, then offered her an arm. “I told ’em nae to be formal,” he said, heading for the front of the large house, “but that leaves a wide space for nonsense.”

“I’m nervous,” she blurted, then put her free hand over her mouth. “I shouldn’t be; I do know them. Oh, I’m just being silly.”

He stopped, faced her, and bent to give her a deep, slow kiss. Oh, he could kiss. And do several other things exceptionally well. That thought made heat swirl up from between her legs, up her spine, and settled into a delicious shiver.

“Stop tha—”

Jane leaped forward, but out of the corner of her eye Amelia-Rose saw the stiff arm and upright palm of Niall catch the companion by the shoulder and hold her quite easily at bay. “It’s rude to interrupt,” he muttered, and kissed Amelia-Rose once more.

“I will scream,” Jane hissed, flailing at his hand.

With a sigh and a last nibble at her lower lip, Niall straightened away from Amelia-Rose. “Nervous now?”

She blinked. More than anything else she felt dazed and warm and quite ridiculously optimistic. “No. But you should let Jane go. She has a surprisingly high-pitched yowl.”

Instead, still holding Jane Bansil away from him with that one muscular arm, he faced the companion. “Nae harm done, lass,” he said. “My brother is the one who did wrong, and I’ll nae have my adae worried over how they see her. And aside from that, I reckon I mean to kiss her every time I can manage it.”

Jane stopped swatting at his hand, the only part of him she could reach. “You ‘reckon’ as you will, Mr. MacTaggert. I ‘reckon’ I will try to stop you every time I can manage that.”

He grinned, releasing her. “Fair enough. Ye’re a tiger, ye are. Fierce as fire.”

For the first time that Amelia-Rose could ever recall, Jane blushed at a comment from a man. “I … Let’s get on with it, shall we?” she mumbled, straightening her plain blue gown.

“Aye, let’s.” Taking Amelia-Rose’s hand in his, he rapped on the closed morning room door and then pushed it open.

They all sat in the large, open room. All the MacTaggerts, save their absent patriarch. Eloise and Lady Aldriss were seated together on the long couch and examining a half-finished embroidery. The middle brother, Aden, lounged in one of the overstuffed chairs and seemed to be reading Francis Grose’s Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, of all things, while Lord Glendarril perched in one of the deep windowsills and peeled an orange.

“Ye’re reading a dictionary?” Niall said, lifting an eyebrow as his brothers both came to their feet.

“A bonny, buxom lass told me last night that she wanted a smack,” Aden replied with a slow grin. “I reckoned I’d best see what she meant, as I’d nae hit a woman.” He hefted the dictionary. “Turns out she meant she wanted a kiss, which means I guessed right.”

“Aden,” Eloise chastised, setting aside the embroidery and walking forward to give Amelia-Rose a sound hug. “I couldn’t say, because you and Coll were supposedly courting, but this isn’t the first time I’ve thought you and Niall look very fetching together.”

Lady Aldriss took Amelia-Rose’s right hand in hers. “You are most welcome here, my dear. Always.”

That word seemed to have additional meaning, but Amelia-Rose attempted to put it aside for now. If the countess had doubts that this pursuit by Niall would be successful, she wasn’t the only one. She’d already gone through one MacTaggert brother, after all.

Then Aden strolled up to her. He opened his mouth to speak, but she lifted an eyebrow at him as both her hands were occupied. “Did you step on my toe so you wouldn’t have to tell me what adae actually means?”

“Aye, I did,” he returned, his gray-green eyes amused. “And I apologize for panicking. Ye’re a…” He looked down to consult his dictionary of vulgarities. “… a prime lass.”

As far as she knew that was still a compliment. “Thank you, then.”

The window at the front of the room lightened as the viscount left it. Steady, she told herself. She’d stood up to him twice already, and that had been without anyone else to assist her. Amelia-Rose curtsied as he rounded the couch. “My lord.”

“Ye’re English,” Coll stated, stopping at Aden’s shoulder. “And Lady Aldriss ordered me to wed ye. I wouldnae have done it if ye’d been a princess. Even so, that was my doing. Ye had naught to answer for. I was…”

“You were mean,” Eloise said under her breath as he paused.

“I was mean,” he recited.

“And thoughtless,” Aden added.

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