She pushed her hand through the air in dismissal. “No’ for long. Gunn and the rest of the men will make sure of that.”
Oh, how Jocelyn wished that time would come sooner rather than later. She looked forward to the days when she no longer had to think of Victor.
Gwen’s demeanor grew serious as she gazed at Jocelyn over the cards she held in her hand. “Have ye no’ had any word from your husband?”
Jocelyn shook her head. “None at all. Gunn sent Malcolm to Rochester to track him down, but I don’t believe he was able to find him, though I think he found out some information from neighbors. I couldn’t tell you what though. Neither of them made me privy to the findings.”
“’Tis just like them isna it?” Gwen asked. “They go off and do something. Find out some information and then leave ye in the dark. ’Tis frustrating.”
Willamina sighed. “’Tis as if they dinna think we can handle the evil in the world. I love that they try to protect us, but we arestrong. We willna break with whate’er bad news they’re going to tell us.”
Jocelyn had to agree. Though she didn’t believe for one minute that she was as strong as the rest of the women in the room. They’d all been through so much—and survived. She was in awe of their strength and perseverance.
“Ye are strong, too, Jocelyn,” Gwen said, as if reading her mind. “I see your mind going. Not all of our journeys are the same, but they all require strength. Look at ye. Ye made your way from England to Scotland. Alone. And not just the border. Ye are deep into Scotland. That takes strength that I would be hard pressed to conjure up.”
She dipped her head. She didn’t feel strong. But she supposed she was. She had done something that most women wouldn’t even attempt. “You are very kind to say such things.”
“She only speaks the truth,” Clarissa said. “Before this visit is over, we will have ye convinced of your strength. I promise ye that.”
That was how the rest of the evening went. Sipping sherry, playing games. After cards, they moved to charades. Jocelyn laughed so hard, she gave herself a stitch.
Later that evening, when Gunn escorted her upstairs to her room, she found herself not wanting to be alone. She lingered at her door, wanting to be forward enough to tell him what she wanted—him. But not daring for fear of… For fear of what, she thought. Gunn’s feelings toward her were obvious. She could tell in the way he carelessly caressed her skin as if it were the most natural thing to do in the world. In the care lighting his eyes whenever he looked at her. In the richness of his voice as he spoke.
So, what was holding her back? A commitment to vows she’d spoken years ago when she was young and naive and believed the world was only filled with good people.
A commitment to someone she didn’t love. Hadn’t loved in a very long time. Commitment to a man who treated her like property instead of a person. She’d seen Victor treat animals better than he’d treated her.
Damn him. She was not going to let him dictate her life anymore. She was not bound to him. She’d escaped his clutches and was free to do as she pleased. To love as she pleased. Victor would be dealt with, but right now she didn’t want to think about him.
She only wanted to think about Gunn. To get lost in his arms and have him kiss all her worries away. To make her feel again.
Live again.
Love again.
“Joss?” Concern creased Gunn’s brow. “Is something amiss?”
She worried her lip between her teeth, gathering the courage to do what she longed to do. To say the words she needed to say.
“No. Everything is perfect.”
He dipped his head in a small bow. “Then I shall bid ye a good night.”
When he turned to go, she reached out, curling her hand around his arm. “Please don’t,” she whispered, looking at his surprised expression through her lowered lashes.
His eyes dropped to her hand, before he lifted them, and their gazes clashed together. Lifting her hand from his arm to his mouth, he kissed her, letting his lips linger as he stared into the depths of her eyes.
She couldn’t look away. It was as if she was entranced. Caught in a spell that she never wanted to be broken.
Gunn didn’t speak a word as he gently took her hand and pulled her into his room, closing and latching the door behind them. Pulling her close, so her body was flush against his, he dropped his head and captured her lips in a searing kiss that she felt from the tip of her head to the tips of her toes.
When his tongue sought entry into her mouth, she opened on a gasp, letting him in. Their tongues danced an erotic dance that was wicked and wanton, and she wanted more.
His hands dropped from cupping her face, and his fingers tore at the buttons on his waistcoat, ridding himself of it as quickly as he could, his mouth not leaving hers.
She gasped for air, but she didn’t want to break contact.
Walking her back to the bed, he finally broke the kiss, his lips moving to her ear, his tongue tracing the shell, before sucking the lobe into his mouth.
