Page 57 of Kidnapping Cordelia

Delia kissed his cheek fondly. “I don’t doubt it, but you may leave Mrs Paterson to me. I know just how to handle her, I promise you.”

“I believe ye. I just saw it with my own eyes, though I can hardly credit it,” he added, shaking his head.

Delia fell silent as carried her towards the door at the far end of the corridor and pushed it open. The room was large and had a splendid view across the land, the crenellations of Wildsyde’s lofty tower just visible in the far distance. Turning her attention back to the room, Delia’s gaze settled upon a huge oak bed which dominated the space, the headboard embellished with Celtic knots and thistles. It was neatly turned down with sheets of pristine white cotton and thick blankets in the family tartan laid over it. Other than that, the room was fairly spartan, with a gleaming polished wood floor, a well-worn armchair beside the fireplace, where a fire blazed, and an enormous wardrobe carved with the same thistle and knot design as the bed.

Muir set her carefully down, not letting her go. “Welcome home, Delia.”

“Thank you. I’m glad to be home, here with you.”

“Aye,” he said, kissing her forehead before going to close the bedroom door. He turned the key, making her stomach leap with nerves.

“Yer nae afraid, are ye?” he asked, his expression one of concern as he returned to her.

Delia shook her head. “Not of you, just… just of doing something wrong.”

He smiled at that, stroking his fingers down her cheek. “Ye never could. Ye ken what happens between us? Did anyone explain?”

“Luella was kind enough to offer to explain things to me,” she said with a smile. “But there was no need. My sister-in-law, Emmeline, thought I ought to know such things, and she was good enough to explain everything some time ago. So, I am quite prepared.”

“Well, I’m glad ye are, for I am nae. I’m feart of hurting ye,” he admitted, the worry in his eyes chasing away any lingering anxiety she might have felt.

“You told me I could do nothing wrong, well, you could not hurt me, not really. I understand it might be a little uncomfortable the first time, but I know you would never do me harm intentionally. I’m safe with you, Muir. I have always known it.”

There was a soft knock at the door and a shy voice spoke through it.

“My lady, it’s Ally. Is there anything ye need? Can I be of assistance?”

“No, ye cannae! Run along,” Muir called back impatiently. “I’ll be yer maid,” he added in an undertone, winking at her.

“The poor girl, she’ll be mortified now,” Delia scolded him as he turned her around.

“She’ll get over it. Did I tell ye, by the way, how bonnie ye look in this gown? Prettier than the bride cake, and ye make my mouth water more than it did too.”

“You did,” she said, feeling quite smug about it. “But you are welcome to say it again, though the bride cake Mrs Baillie made was the most splendid I have ever seen. Quite magnificent.”

“Dinnae let Mrs Paterson hear ye say such a thing,” he murmured in her ear, nipping at the lobe before he returned his attention to her buttons. “Ye will undo all yer good work.”

“I should never be such a numpty,” she said, biting her lip as he moved around to look at her, his expression one of feigned alarm.

“Lady Cordelia, wherever did ye learn such dreadful language?” he demanded, one hand to his heart in mock horror.

“From you,” she retorted.

“Aye, and so ye did,” he agreed, smirking.

He moved behind her again and finally the dress fell in a soft whoosh of fabric. Delia stepped out of it as Muir tossed it over the chair and turned back to her, his gaze intent.

“Better than Christmas morning,” he said, his lips quirking. “And on to the next layer.”

With more patience than she had credited him, he undid and unhooked and unbuttoned, until only her shift and stockings remained, and it was she who was impatient. Nerves leapt beneath her skin, her every sense alert and singing with anticipation.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, reaching for the shift.

Delia nodded. “Though it seems dreadfully scandalous to be naked in daylight,” she observed. “Not that I’m complaining,” she added hastily.

He chuckled at that and kissed her cheek. “I think yer notions of scandal and mine are nae at all the same things, but I shall remedy that soon enough.”

He brought the chemise up and over her head, tossing it aside. Delia shivered as she saw the way his gaze darkened, felt the heat of his hand upon her bare skin as he reached for her, his palms hot against her waist. “Yer the loveliest thing I ever did see, Delia, my own little love. I never felt so proud in my life as when I saw ye walk down the aisle towards me.”