Page 40 of Scandal with a Sinful Scot

“Why?”

She leaned up on her elbow and stared down at him as she nibbled on the biscuit. “I have a home, responsibilities. Megan has school and has missed too much time already.”

Her words chilled his heart. Hell, he didn’t want her and his daughter to leave. “And what of a future, the one that you said you wished? With me? We do have a schoolmaster in the family. In fact, Riordan informed us, before returning to his position, he will be starting a progressive school here in Kent. He will put in place an education board of local members, similar to the one in Carrbury.”

“I am pleased for your nephew, but it would be a year or more before it comes into existence. What will Megan do in the interim?” Abbie gathered the sheet about her lush body. “No, I must set a date for our departure. By the end of this month, or perhaps sooner. I will discuss it with Megan.”

“That leaves barely more than two weeks.” Garrett frowned. He did not like this development at all.

Abbie stood and gathered up her garments, then began dressing. “Don’t pout. I assume you wish us to stay in touch. You can always return with us for a short visit.” She gave him a warm smile. “Perhaps Aidan will be amenable to visitors by then.”

Garrett pushed the tray of food off his lap and sat upright. “Of course I wish us to stay in touch. Regarding Aidan, according to Dr. Bevan, the family should stay well clear. Perhaps it will be difficult to comply. But the family agreed to wait until Aidan allows visitors.” He swung his legs around and reached for his trousers. “On the subject of us, there is still much to work out it seems.”

Abbie cupped his cheek. “Fourteen years past, there was no one else to consider but our youthful, selfish selves. But don’t start to think that I do not wish us to be together. On one hand I yearn for it, but I also wish for us to remain cautious. It is the prudent thing to do.”

Garrett stared at her incredulously. “You don’t trust me, not fully.”

“The curse has ruled your actions for decades. I wish to be certain that you’ve truly placed it behind you before we move forward. That is all.” She caressed his cheek with the pad of her thumb. “Considering our past, and the way you hurt me…” He stiffened at her words. “You did hurt me, Garrett. Deeply. You abandoned me. As a result, I need time. Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I am asking you to understand.”

He stood. Arguing with her would serve no purpose, for she was not completely wrong with regard to caution—or the curse. Or about him hurting her. Yet it stung. “I will try my best to understand. In light of this, I’d best return you to the Eatons.”

They did not speak as he hurriedly dressed. Then he put out the fire and locked the cabinet. Garrett struggled with his emotions, with whether to allow them to rush free or keep them under tight control. This aspect of his personality simultaneously annoyed and amused Abbie. She’d told him so in the past.

He cast a quick glance and her eyes smoldered. It was not as if she were tossing him aside—quite the opposite. No, he couldn’t blame her for wishing to take what was quickly developing between them at a slower pace. Abbie gave him a playful wink. How tempting it was to toss off his clothes, carry her to the chaise, and make love to her again. And again.

Abbie turned and reached for her cloak and the spell was broken.

Once they arrived at the rear entrance of the Eaton residence, he slipped off Patriot and helped her down.

“Well, good night.” She gave him a brief smile.

Abbie was about to head toward the door when he grasped the sides of her head, forcing her to look at him. “You’re mine, and if that sounds domineering and possessive, good, because where you are concerned, I am. I’ll be damned to a fiery hell before I let you leave me again for whatever reason.”

Annoyance sparked in her dark brown eyes. “Let me? I am going home, I am not leaving you. Besides, you threw me away…. Never mind. We will not travel down that path once again. What time do you wish us to be ready for our excursion to Sevenoaks tomorrow?”

He kissed her hard. At first she stubbornly resisted, but she soon softened, returning his kiss with equal passion. Garrett broke the kiss and marched away from her, then mounted Patriot. “I will call for you and Megan at one o’clock. And tomorrow night, I will be here at the stroke of midnight. Agreed?”

Abbie gave him a sultry smile as she touched her well-kissed lips. “Agreed.”

Taking the reins, he gave Patriot a touch of his flanks and he was off, galloping toward Wollstonecraft Hall. Tonight was not near enough, it barely took the edge off his arousal. Perhaps a brisk dash would cool his ardor.

The extreme emotions tearing through him concerned him. He never wanted to love a woman like this. It was dangerous to love to distraction, to be obsessed. Yearning for every touch, smile, and kiss. Surely he could gain control of his emotions. Well, the maelstrom was exhilarating, at least. But did he wish to live the rest of his life in such turmoil?

With Abbie by his side, in his arms, lying under him as he thrust in and out?

God, yes. Forever.

* * * *

Sitting in the Rose Crown Tearoom, Garrett noticed they were attracting attention from the townsfolk. On the rare occasions he’d ventured to Sevenoaks, he hadn’t lingered in tearooms or engaged in conversation with the locals. He’d left that to his father and brother, the peers in the family.

The owner of the tearoom waited on them personally, bringing a three-tiered cake stand stuffed with cream cakes, tarts, and scones. Megan’s eyes lit up at the bounty. His daughter had a sweet tooth, make no mistake.

“May I say I’m heartily glad to see you in my humble tearoom,” the owner, Mr. Crook, gushed. “I would be obliged if you recommend us to the earl and viscount.”

Good God. “What jams do you offer?” Garrett asked as he laid the linen napkin across his lap.

“I have blackberry, strawberry, peach, apricot, a Seville orange marmalade…”