“Now, now,” Sinjun said, laughing. “They could be quite beautiful, like your father. And, Dahling, you did admit that my Sherbrooke blue eyes were nice as well as my Sherbrooke chestnut hair.”
“You made me,” said Dahling, her lower lip jutting out.
“True. I twisted your arm and stuck pins in your nose. Already I’m such a wicked stepmother.”
“Pearlin’ Jane will get you,” Dahling said as a last resort.
“I look forward to seeing her,” Sinjun said. “I will see if she is as impressive as our own Virgin Bride.”
“Virgin Bride?” MacDuff cocked his head to one side, his bushy red eyebrows hiked up a good inch.
“She’s our resident ghost at Northcliffe Hall, a young lady of the sixteenth century who was just wedded when her groom was murdered before he could come to her.”
Dahling’s eyes were fixed on Sinjun’s face. “She’s real? You’ve seen her?”
“Oh yes. She appears to the ladies of the family, but I know for a fact that my brother the earl has seen her as well, though he refuses to admit it. She’s quite beautiful, really, with very long pale hair and a flowing gown. She speaks to you but never out loud; it’s in your mind you can hear her, I guess you’d say. She seems to want to keep the ladies of the house safe.”
“Utter nonsense,” said Colin.
“That’s what Douglas says. But he has seen her, Alex told me so. He just can’t bring himself to admit it out loud, because he fears people will think him hysterical and he will think himself hysterical as well. All the Northcliffe earls have written about her, but Douglas refuses to. A pity, really.”
“I don’t believe you,” Philip said. “Virgin Bride, what a silly name!”
“Well, I don’t believe you either. Pearlin’ Jane is a pretty silly name, too. No, I shan’t believe you until I’ve seen Pearlin’ Jane for myself.” As a challenge, it was excellent, Sinjun thought, looking at Philip from beneath her lashes. She wouldn’t be at all surprised to have a rendition of Pearlin’ Jane haunting her room once Colin had left.
“Children, you will leave now. Here’s Dulcie.”
Sinjun didn’t want the children to leave. At least she’d gotten their interest. Philip gave his father a pathetic look, but Colin only shook his head and said, “I will be up later to tuck you up. Be good now and go with Dulcie. Joan, when you are finished, you may take Aunt Arleth and Serena into the drawing room. MacDuff and I have some more plans to discuss. We’ll join you shortly.”
“What a pity that you interest him so little that he must leave you.”
Ah, Auntie, Sinjun thought, you’d best mind your tongue. She smiled lovingly at the woman and said, “I agree. If his marvelously great father hadn’t been such a wastrel bastard, perhaps he wouldn’t have to leave.”
She heard Colin laugh from behind her. She had played her cards all wrong, she decided later. He would leave with no concern that she would have any problems with his relatives. If she had only had the foresight to burst into helpless tears, just maybe he would have remained—that, or taken her with him back to Edinburgh.
“I think Colin is quite the handsomest man in all of Scotland,” Serena said.
“You’re stupid and silly,” Aunt Arleth said. “Just like your sister was.”
Sinjun drew a deep breath and kept a smile pinned to her mouth.
It was after midnight when Colin came quietly into the laird’s bedchamber. Joan was sleeping very close to the far edge of the bed, the covers pulled to her nose. He smiled, then stripped off his clothes. Naked, he walked to the bed and stepped onto the dais. Slowly, he eased the covers down. She stirred, batting at the covers with her hands, but she didn’t awaken. Slowly, he eased up her long cotton nightgown. Easy and slow, he told himself. He’d gotten it up to her thighs when he was content to stop for a moment and look at her long white legs. Very nice legs, very nice indeed. He felt himself swell, but knew she couldn’t accommodate him tonight. No, he wanted to see if he could accommodate her. He gently lifted her hips and pulled the nightgown to her waist. He moved the candle closer. Ah, but she was lovely. He stared at the chestnut hair that covered her woman’s mound, her flat white belly that could even now have his child growing there. It was a heady thought. She tried to twist away from him, moaning a bit in her sleep. He eased her legs open, and she obligingly parted them more widely. Now, he thought. He bent her knees up and parted her flesh. He winced at the sight of that soft flesh roughened from the hard riding they’d done. He parted her with his fingers, wincing again at the redness. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and wondered if he should try to give her pleasure. Why not? She needed to learn that it was possible to enjoy him. He leaned down and lightly touched his mouth to her white belly. She quivered; he felt the smooth muscles tighten at the touch of his mouth. He continued kissing her, light, nipping kisses, until he eased down between her legs and found her and blew his warm breath over her flesh. She squirmed. He smiled, pleased.
He parted her soft flesh and lightly touched her with his tongue. In the next instant, she screamed, jerking away from him, flinging her hands out to ward him off, pulling her nightgown down.
“Hello,” he said, grinning up at her. “I love your taste, but I must have more of you to be certain. What do you think, Joan?”
CHAPTER
10
SINJUN OPENED HER mouth to yell again, then closed it. He was lying between her legs, his arms hooked around her thighs, his chin lightly resting on her belly. He was grinning at her.
“Well? Would you like me to do more?”
She got hold of herself, by a meager thread. It was difficult because she’d never imagined such . . .
She said aloud, “What you were doing—it was startling. It is very embarrassing. Are you certain such things are done?”