And blinked again.
The chamber was lit by candles, seemingly hundreds of them. They marched across the dressing table and along the windowsill, their flames reflecting off the beveled diamond panes. They graced the bedside tables and the massive headboard beneath the cobalt blue canopy. They sat on stands, on the floor, atop the tall, carved clothes press. But the brightest concentration flanked both ends of a wee table with a chair on either side…and their backgammon board in the center.
He swept the hair off the back of her neck and planted his lips there, warm and tender. “You’ve pulled even,” he murmured, sending vibrations through her skin, “but not for long. I intend to win this eve.”
“You want to play backgammon?” With a gasp of disbelief, she turned to him. “On our wedding night?”
“Um-hmm.” He nodded solemnly. “I remembered this morning that when I bought the set, we agreed to come up with something to wager. Then we never did. So I’ve settled on a forfeit.”
Warily she backed up, not certain she liked the look in his eyes. “And what might that be?”
His smile made her skin tingle. “Our clothing.”
“What?” She took another step back and sat on the bed.
“Our clothing.” Coming close, he took her by the shoulders and raised her to stand. “Whoever loses will have to remove an item of clothing. Until we are both…how do you put it?” His sugary sweet smile made her breath catch. “In the scud?”
Was this how a wedding night was supposed to go? “Why not just undress ourselves in the normal way?” She kissed him on the chin, which was as high as she could reach without his cooperation. “We’ll play backgammon tomorrow. I promise.”
“Hmm…” He cooperated, bestowing her lips with a kiss that was intimate, but short and unsatisfying. “I think not.”
“But I’ve got the stomacher and the gown, a chemise and stockings and garters.” As well as she could in such close quarters, she eyed his velvet-clad form. “And you’re wearing that much or more. This could take all night!”
“Mmm.” Nodding thoughtfully, he leaned in again and kissed each of her eyelids, then drifted toward her mouth. He nipped her lower lip.
Caithren’s eyes popped open in surprise.
He was grinning and backing toward the table and chairs. “I intend it to take all night.”
When she tried to pull him back toward the bed, he only chuckled. She couldn’t budge him an inch. “This isn’t fair.”
“You think not?” He stepped back, seeming to consider it. “Very well, then, I’ll give you an advantage.”
She frowned as he stripped off his surcoat and dropped it to the floor. When Mam had explained what happened in the marriage bed, she’d surely never mentioned anything like this. It made Cait edgy. She’d thought she knew what to expect, but now she felt uncertain of how to behave.
“You’re terribly untidy,” she scolded, chiefly to give herself something to say.
“But I have you now.” He shrugged, working on the knot in his cravat. “And you always pick up after me.”
“That’s a reprehensible attitude, Jase. I shall have to reform you.” She bent to pick up the coat and laid it neatly over the back of a chair. He was taking off his clothes—it looked like she had won—yet his demeanor wasn’t one of defeat. It was all so very confusing.
When her fingers moved to the tabs on her stomacher, he shook his head and reached out to still them. Flashing a roguish grin, he handed her the cravat, then silently unlaced his shirt and stripped it off over his head.
“There.” The grin widened more. “Surely now you can win. Unless…” He raised a brow. “Unless you find yourself distracted again by my bare chest.”
The lacy cravat dangled from her fingers, forgotten. Against that very distracting bare chest, her amulet nestled, winking in the candlelight. She swallowed hard, her hands suddenly itching to touch him. Her exasperating Englishman.
He pressed her into a chair and handed her the shirt, still warm from his body and smelling like Jason. Her nose full of his spicy scent, she remembered that even at first, when she’d thought him intolerable, he’d always made her feel safe.
He sat himself in the other chair, and her gaze slid over his dimpled chin, his wide mouth, his chiseled features. And when she arrived at his beautiful green eyes and saw the depths of love within them, all her misgivings fled, dispelled by a wave of wholehearted affection and unshakable trust in this man, her husband.
Her husband.
There was no doubt he’d keep surprising her, she mused while slowly wadding the shirt and cravat in her lap. In fact, he might be just the fellow to keep her on her toes for the next few decades or so.
“How very untidy,” he chided, scooting his chair closer to hers. Their knees touched under the table, and he held one of her hands.
And he tossed the dice.
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Next up is Cameron’s story in The Laird’s Fairytale Bride. Please read on for an excerpt.
If you'd like to learn more about the real people, places, and events in The Marquess’s Scottish Bride, turn the page for Lauren’s Author's Note...
BONUS MATERIAL
Author's Note
Explore the Chase Family World
Excerpt from The Laird’s Fairytale Bride
Books by Lauren & Devon Royal
Contest
About the Authors
Acknowledgments
Excerpt from Page
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
Dear Reader,
I always like to see the places I'm writing about, and I had great fun researching
