“You are such a good person,” Minnie said. “Oliver has commented at how happy he is that our family is a far cry from the sort of man Father was. He confided in me today that there had been gossip in the valley when we’d first arrived. I don’tknow how they expected us to be. We wouldn’t have carried on the way Father did. We may be Black Jack Maclean’s children but we have the moral standards our father lacked.”
Portia smiled, not trusting her voice to speak.
Minnie put down her piecework. “I’m so happy, Portia. So very happy. I hope someday you meet someone who makes you as happy. And I don’t believe you are too old. I’ve never thought that.”
“Thank you, dear.” Portia started for the stairs. “I’m going to my room.”
“Oh, Portia, there is something I should tell you. Mother and General Montheath had their heads together all afternoon. He came calling and she received him without one grumble. He’s given her carte blanche to plan his soiree and she is reveling in it.”
“Mother and General Montheath?”
“I know it is amazing, but you know how she likes to spend money. The soiree has turned into a grand Christmas Day dinner. Mr. Tolliver is going to ask his parents to join us. Mother wants to invite the Duke of Montcrieffe and his daughter, Lady Emma. I’m not very excited for that, but Mother feels we must extend the invitation.”
“How interesting,” Portia murmured. The last thing she wanted to do was spend her ChristmasDay with Lady Emma. But she didn’t offer a protest. Instead, she escaped to her room, where she lay on her bed fully clothed as the room grew darker with the day’s end.
What was she doing? She’d behaved today in a way contrary to her good breeding. She’d behaved as herfatherwould have. She must not go to the bothy tomorrow. She had to resist temptation.
Then again, shewasBlack Jack Maclean’s daughter. He’d certainly enjoyed sensual pleasures—and she did wonder what it would be like to lie naked with Harry.
Harry. Colonel Chattan was a distant figure, a cold one. Harry was a man who whispered in her ear. A man whose touch ignited her senses.
The next day, Portia met Harry in the bothy.
He’d been right. Making love naked was truly remarkable.
And so she met him the following day as well.
Chapter Twelve
“Ineed your help,” Harry said to Portia.
They had just enjoyed a very strenuous and very happy bout of lovemaking. She was exhausted and lay with her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
Portia’s excuse to leave the house for her trysts with Harry continued to be her need to help Crazy Lizzy, and she did not lie about the old woman. Shediddeliver the food.
But only after spending an hour, sometimes more, in Harry’s arms. And he had been true to his word. They now took precautions to prevent a child.
Of course, her sister and mother didn’t appear to care where Portia was. Minnie was caught up in planning her marriage to Mr. Tolliver. They would wed on January 2 of the new year. The banns had been posted twice now.
Surprisingly, Lady Maclean no longer spent her days in bed. She was up and ready for General Montheath’s call. Any of her earlier complaints about him vanished as she almost gleefully spent his money. She still wouldn’t let any of his many dogs into the house, but Portia had caught sight of her mother’s hand reaching down to scratch Jasper’s ear a time or two.
Therefore, Portia was able to do exactly as she pleased, with only a semblance of propriety. No one questioned her, not even Glennis was suspicious. So far their liaison was a secret, and Black Jack Maclean’s older daughter liked it that way because she was proving to be his child.
They’d turned the bothy into their own paradise. Harry brought a stack of fur-lined blankets to keep them warm and they didn’t need much else. The weather might be cold or windy or wet, but there in his arms, the world was perfect.
Her lover was a masterful teacher and Portia was an eager student. Nor did she weigh the rights and wrongs of what she was doing. She knew it would end someday, but for now,thiswas what she wanted.
Indeed, there was only one small matter that concerned Portia—she hadn’t seen Owl since that day she’d first met Harry at the bothy. Thecat seemed to have disappeared. Everyone told her cats did that from time to time, but that didn’t stop Portia from worrying and calling for Owl to come home.
“What do you need help with?” she asked Harry, propping her head up on her hand resting on his chest.
“The book.” He sat up, forcing her to move. She pulled the blanket up around her breasts. Heedless of his own nakedness, he rose from their makeshift bed and went over to where his saddlebags lay.
She liked his body. He was hard muscle. She imagined that the Spartan warriors of old must have looked like him. Not even the scar on his leg deterred from his masculine beauty.
“How did you receive that wound?” she asked.
A frown marred his brow as he pulled the book from his bags. “A French sword. It came at me and I forgot to move.”
