Scotsmen Prefer Blondes (Muses of Mayfair) by Ramsey Sara

Author:Ramsey, Sara [Ramsey, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781937515256
Publisher: Spencerhill Associates, Ltd
Published: 2012-04-04T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Amelia survived until the fourth day — but only just. In the moments when her mother, and then Madeleine and Ellie, left her alone, the solitude that usually helped her to temper her emotions gave her too much time to think. Her thoughts oscillated wildly between excitement and escape, between eagerness for Malcolm’s touch and fear that her attraction to him would destroy her.

As the carriage carrying her to the church lurched on the rough road, she thought it wasn’t so farfetched that he might be her doom. She had behaved like an utter wanton when he demanded it, needing only the slightest encouragement to ask for the pleasure she’d always denied herself. When she awoke the next morning, safely tucked into her own bed after sneaking across the length of the darkened castle, she was ashamed that he had stopped when she had not. If he hadn’t pushed her away, she would have ended the night in his bed, beyond all reasonable thought, and no longer a virgin.

Tonight, her first night as Malcolm’s countess, her virginity would likely be gone. Malcolm wouldn’t refrain again, not when he watched her for the past three days like a rebel readying an ambush. But she hoped she maintained her reason. She couldn’t afford to give away her sanity, not if she wanted to remember who she was and what she really wanted from her life.

Madeleine interrupted her brooding. “You’re frowning, Mellie. What is the matter?”

Amelia gripped the strap affixed to the wall as the carriage jolted on another rut. “We should have ridden to the church. This road is abominable.”

“Is that all that bothers you?” Madeleine asked.

“Of course not,” Amelia snapped. “If I recall, you had nerves on your wedding day and I didn’t press you about them.”

“Likely because you were hoping I would give in to them and toss Ferguson aside,” she retorted with a laugh.

“I will allow that I was not precisely charitable about the Duke of Rothwell’s pursuit of you,” Amelia said. She continued over Madeleine’s snort. “But I do see the depth of your feelings for him. It made your wedding day a joy rather than a burden.”

She and Madeleine were in a carriage, their last moments alone before Amelia’s wedding. Amelia’s mother and Lady Carnach had gone ahead, as had Ellie, Ferguson, his sisters, and Malcolm’s brothers. They would be waiting in the church, or the kirk, as the MacCabes called it. And Malcolm would be there too, ready to claim the rest of her life as his own.

She shuddered, just a bit, but Madeleine saw it. She reached out and took Amelia’s hand. “Are you sure you see Malcolm as a burden?”

Amelia wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t keep thinking about it if she wanted to walk down the aisle without bolting. “What will be will be, Madeleine. My fate is tied to him whether I like it or not.”

Madeleine didn’t respond. Amelia stared out the window. The Highlands were a fairy tale — hills and crags covered in vegetation and drenched in mist.

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