“He keeps trying to eat the filling, so I doubt he will make a good chef,” Delia called, as if her perfectly plump derriere were not lodged against his pulsing member. She had most definitely taken the upper hand. And while part of him wanted to bark at Stone to leave the way he’d come, the man had likely saved him from a terrible mistake.
“Are you going to take that from her?” Stone addressed him. A moment of panic set in. He couldn’t possibly answer. His voice would never work properly and Stone would know what was happening behind the large work table.
“With any luck, no he won’t. He’ll run screaming the other way.” Delia straightened away from him. He backed up a few inches and tried to get his raging body back under control.
After ten deep breaths, he answered. “Not a chance.”
He heard the scraping of Stone’s chair. “Come and sit. We’ll use the quiet to talk about how to expand your business. If we combine forces, as we’ve already begun, we could transport goods for all of Scotland and England.”
He took several more deep breaths. Delia was bent over the pastry dough with her bottom sticking out as she rhythmically moved back and forth. He didn’t want to build anything in this moment…except maybe a child. How would he continue to be the man she deserved when she was in his bed? Because right now he could think of little else than the feel of her skin against his.
Chapter Three
Delia glanced back as she put several pasties in the oven. Stone and Roderick were deep in conversation. Their faces serious, their hands moving as they talked. Immediately, she started another batch, these filled with jelly. The children couldn’t get enough of them.
Working with her hands gave her time to think. The ache between her thighs was still there, pulsing. He felt it too, she could tell. Literally, it had rubbed against her. Alexa and Bridget, her sisters-in-law, were always going on about their husbands’ endowments. They giggled and tittered while Delia made disgusted faces, but in her defense, they were discussing her brothers. Undeterred, they both assured her someday she would understand.
That was the thing, she had expected never to understand. She knew Stone would arrange a marriage but not to someone like Roderick. It was her fault that her brother was gone, if she hadn’t gone where she wasn’t supposed to, it never would have happened. She was the one who should pay for the mistake, not Reginald. She couldn’t change the past now, but could control the future. And that meant she’d do her duty but she didn’t deserve a happily ever after.
The meat pasties came out of the oven and the jelly ones went in as she stoked the fire. Pulling four off her sheet, she pushed them onto plates and set them in front of her brother and Roderick, being careful not to look at him.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice rumbling through her, making her ache pulse all the more. She could sense his eyes on her, but she ignored them as she returned to the stove.
As she began to beat eggs, Flora, Stone’s eldest daughter, entered the kitchen. She was eight years old, and an imp, but a delightful one. She reminded Delia of herself at that age. “Are those meat pasties?” she chirped as she swiped one off of her father’s plate.
The sound of silverware bouncing off the table reverberated through the kitchen. Delia turned to see Roderick staring fixedly at her niece a look of shock darkening his face.
“How many times have I told you that you are not to take food from other people’s plates?” Stone addressed his daughter, but his voice held none of its normal gruffness.
“But I don’t have a plate,” she pointed out. “Who are you?” She looked at Roderick, taking a bite.
“This is the Duke of Manchester, Flora. You are to address him as such.”
“Nice to meet you, Your Grace.” She dipped into a little curtsey.
“And you as well,” he responded quietly.
“This is my daughter, Lady Flora.”
“You are the spitting image of your aunt.” Roderick’s voice sounded almost hoarse, his look still pained. It was most curious.
“Oh, thank ye. She is the most beautiful woman in the whole of Scotland. Maybe the world.” Flora flounced toward Delia. “Did you make any jelly pasties, Auntie?”
“I did, my sweet. Come help me beat the eggs.” She glanced at Roderick, his were fixed on both of them. His mouth was pinched and his eyes looked almost haunted with longing. His conversation with her brother seemed to be forgotten.
“It is uncanny,” Roderick murmured.
“I know. I have thought the same.” Stone shrugged.
Roderick dropped his voice but she thought she heard him say the words, “My past and my future.” What could that mean? How could she be part of his past when they’d only met yesterday? And in terms of a future…
More family members began filing in and she set Flora to work to serve up all of the food necessary to feed the fifteen Alban family members. As she bustled about she felt Roderick’s eyes on her. Biting her lip, she wondered how she would find the strength to fight him. He was tempting beyond anything she had ever experienced. Closing her eyes, she said a silent prayer
She didn’t have to time to think anymore, as plate upon plate was set on the table. The men began discussing the morning training session. All of the sailors were trained in combat. Sometimes, it was necessary for them to fend off pirates and Stone wanted them to be ready. The castle was well-equipped for such endeavors with a large interior courtyard that had been historically used for soldiers’ training.
“Delia, you should attend this morning’s session,” Stone called from his end of the table.
Doing her best to shoot daggers at him with her eyes, she gave a simple nod. Roderick now had become part of Stone’s business plan. Seating herself at the other end of the table, she clenched her fists in her lap.