The man did not have an innocent bone in his body.
He was gorgeous and he knew it.
He also knew how to pleasure women.
The big ox knew he had left her well pleased.
“Reading my mind.” Worst of all, he knew she had absolutely no resistence to his charms and would melt, moan, writhe, anddo other embarrassing things the moment he got her back in bed. “You are a rogue and a scoundrel. You do know this, don’t you?”
“I beg to differ. I am neither a rogue nor a scoundrel.”
“Then what are you?”
He leaned closer and took her hands in his once again. “A husband who wants this marriage to be real. Who wants to wake up to find you beside him every morning of his life.”
Did he not understand she was desperate for this, too?
“Octavian…” She struggled to breathe, for his words were a painful ache to her heart. What if she allowed him in and then lost him? She would never recover from that.
“Bollocks.” He shook his head and sighed. “Never mind. Forget I said that. It was not my intention to pressure you into making a decision. Are you hungry, Syd? Want something to tide you over until supper? Mr. MacLean’s come to take your order.”
Yes, she was famished.
It wasn’t for food but for the happiness Octavian offered her.
Why was her heart so filled with dread?
Why was she so certain their marriage would not work out?
CHAPTER 13
THEIR TWO WEEKSin Greenock had flown by, Syd realized as she spent the last few days visiting the new friends she had made here. It was said that no Scot would ever consider anyone a true friend until they had known that person for over a dozen years. But Syd felt truly welcomed into the Greenock community. She understood it was sensible to be wary of strangers, and that the span of time would bring out the good and bad in anyone, revealing their true nature. But these rules seemed to fall aside because she was so quickly accepted as one of their own.
This was something new for her.
Other than her friendship with Adela, Gory, and Marigold, she had never felt accepted by London society, and especially never her parents. For this reason, she was loathe to leave Scotland, even though she missed her three friends and her work at the Huntsford Academy.
She and Octavian now maintained a surprisingly busy social life in this quiet port town. She had grown quite friendly with several of the villagers from Miss Granger, the seamstress, to Lady Lennox, who was thegrande-dameof Greenock society and had taken a liking to Syd, claiming that Syd reminded her of herself in her younger days.
Syd was also warmed by how easily the locals accepted her love of medicine and desire to learn. Unlike those in England who imposed stiff rules and moral regulations designed to keep a woman in her place, these Scots admired anyone who yearned for higher learning.
While Octavian busied himself with plans for the harbor and expanding the shipbuilding operations, she had gone to local lectures hosted by Lady Lennox, taken hikes along coastal paths with the Greenock bird-watching society, and even followed the local doctor and midwife on their round of calls. She was accepted by everyone without so much as the blink of an eye, most surprisingly receiving the praises and warm regard of the doctor and midwife. She learned so much about the natural healing arts from each of them.
But her greatest pride was in being able to teach the villagers, especially these local healers, a few things she had discovered during her forensic studies at the Huntsford Academy. The academy was the museum and center for scholastic studies that Octavian’s brother, Ambrose, Duke of Huntsford, had established to honor their father.
The Huntsford Academy was situated across from the British Museum and was just as renowned, for visitors came from all over the world to view the ancient creatures her friends, Adela and Marigold had discovered buried in Adela’s Devonshire caves. Their Dragons of the Ancient World exhibits were all the rage in London.
She shook out of her wandering thoughts upon spotting Octavian walking up the street toward her as she was returning from assisting the local midwife in a birth. Her eyes must have been alight and her cheeks glowing because Octavian’s smile was particularly affectionate when he saw her. “You look happy, Syd.”
She nodded, for she was content in so many ways, not the least of which was their sham marriage that had felt blissfully real ever since arriving in Greenock. Sharing Octavian’s bed every night, enjoying his touch, and waking in his arms was beyond perfection. She dreaded its idyllic end, for that feeling of doom had not left her despite how happy she was.
Something terrible was going to happen upon their return to London and she had no idea what it was or how to prevent it from occurring. “I assisted in a birth,” she said proudly. “It was amazing, Octavian.”
His smile turned tender and indulgent. “Nicer than working on cadavers?”
“Much nicer,” she admitted, letting out a lengthy breath of laughter that formed a vapor as she exhaled because the day was surprisingly cold for this time of year. However, she was prepared for the weather now that she had five new gowns, several of them of softest merino wool from the sheep Mr. Campbell still would not sell to her. “Were you looking for me?”
He nodded and took her arm to lead her back to the inn.
