Soon, everyone was readying for sleep, myself included. The room was warm enough with proximity to the stoves to be comfortable—though I imagined when the kitchens were running to serve an entire household it was probably stifling. The problem with the bed was immediately apparent. In truth, it was apparent before I ever tried to crawl in it. It was the same problem I had at more than one inn during my travels. I was a damn grasshopper and my legs were far too long.
Once I curled up on my side though, I was able to fit relatively comfortably, and I drifted off quickly.
But I woke with a start at the quiet knock on my door.
Twenty-Eight
KILMARNOCK ABBEY, EDINBURGH - JULY 16, 1816
Dav,
Please, for the love of all that is holy, do not tell me how you know this person who is familiar with sheep and in what ways they are familiar.
Tell Celine to stop corrupting you.
As far as Mother’s quest for grandchildren, I may have news on that front. I’ve found a young lady who bears a striking resemblance to our dear brother. She is but eighteen, which aligns with Gabriel’s visit. Please do not share this with Mother or Celine until I confirm. I would not wish to upset anyone unnecessarily.
Warmest Regards,
Xander
P.S. The ceasg would be lucky to have me.
XANDER
The waitfor Sorcha’s and Godfrey’s breaths to even out was interminable. My skin positively itched in a way that had nothing to do with sap.
I had Tom tucked away, deep in a far corner of the house waiting for me.
Finally, Sorcha’s quiet snores intermingled with Godfrey’s loud, intermittent ones. As silently as I could, I slipped out of bed and lumped the blankets into a vague person shape in case anyone woke. Then I tiptoed down the hall, carefully trying to recall where the loose boards were.
If I were any less libidinous, I would almost certainly be concerned about what I might step in or on with my bare feet, but lust had overtaken sense sometime after the third sip of whiskey, around the moment Tom’s hand found my knee.
Christ, he had pretty hands. The distracting feature had been all the more noticeable as he worked today. Sizable palms, with long, elegant fingers. What could those fingers do to me? I needed to know.
At last, I made it to the kitchens and tapped quietly on the door.
After another unending wait, I was met with Tom’s bleary face. Exhaustion smoothed off his features at the sight of me, easing the slight guilt that crept up when I noted the pillow creases on his cheeks.
Like me, he’d forgone a nightshirt, instead stripping off his waistcoat and cravat, leaving his shirt open. His braces hung from his waist off dirty breeches—mine were clean. The dirt should have bothered me—it did a little—but my discomfort was more than overcome by the sliver of muscular chest, dusted with the same dark curls on his head.
Tom peered behind me before grabbing my wrist and yanking me into the room, then turned the key behind us with a decisive click.
His smile was crooked and bright in the moonlight, but I only had a second to make it out before his lips fell on mine. Tonight he smelled of fresh-shaved pine and tasted of whiskey. It shouldn’t have been nearly as appealing as it was, but I wanted more of it, everywhere, until it seeped into my pores and became a part of me.
“Hello,” I whispered, teasing, when he broke for a breath.
“Hello.” His smile pressed against my jaw as he breathed the word.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Tom pulled back and caught my jaw, forcing my gaze to his. “Always wake me. Always.”
Soft lips found mine again, just as his hard cock found my stomach with a significant thrust and a heady groan. I couldn’t help but thrust mine against his thigh, the one I’d admired earlier in the day. A wandering hand slipped between us to cup me before sliding over to the buttons of my falls.
Two quick twists of his fingers was all it took before he had my cock in his perfect hand—hot and soft, with just the tiniest bite of calluses on the fingertips. Before I could catch my bearings, Tom was dropping to sit on the edge of the bed as he dragged me, stumbling closer.
“Wait—”
