playing. His hand slid from her back to her breast, his fingers plucking her nipple until it became prominent, poking against the fabric of her dress. Finally he sighed and released her, standing before he set her on her feet.
"Get on up to the house now, Molly, before I do something we'll both be sorry for," he said with a regretful sigh as he looked into her shocked eyes. "Don't be frightened, love. We've a passion between us that will only get stronger with time. Your body responds to me as mine does to you. We'll have a good marriage."
"Not if you keep spanking me," she sassed.
Angus laughed and pulled her toward the door.
"Be a good lass and I won't have any reason to spank you," he said firmly.
Molly snorted.
"It seemed to me you were enjoying yourself. That makes me wonder if what you say is true."
"I'll admit it; I did enjoy setting fire to your bottom. You've had me dancin' to your tune long enough. A wee spanking is a small enough price to pay for your antics."
"A wee spanking?" Molly objected as she climbed the back steps. "Spoken like a man who wasn't on the receiving end of it," she continued, rubbing her bottom. "How do I know that's the worst of it then? Once we're wed will you slap me around and call it discipline?"
Angus bounded up the stairs and pulled her into his arms. Tipping her chin up, he looked directly into her eyes and spoke honestly.
"I'll never do that, Molly. You have my solemn oath on the matter. Any skelping you get from me will be where the good Lord intended it, on your backside. I have no compunction in laying a man flat if I see him treating his woman that way. As my wife, you'll be entitled to my protection and I hold that sacred."
Relaxing in his arms, Molly sighed contentedly.
"Now, that being said, lass, I'm not above taking a stout hairbrush or a good Scottish tawse to you if the offense is mighty, but the most you'll have from me are aching buttocks and a good dose of embarrassment for your naughty actions."
"Good heavens, what have I gotten myself into?" she asked, gently banging her forehead against his chest. "Will you help me with the cooking for the party?" she asked hopefully.
"Aye, lass, I will and you might want to get someone in to look at the rest of those chickens. They look a might funny to me, staggering around like they are."
"Oh, Angus," she said with her chin quivering. "I fear I've murdered the poor things with my biscuits."
"Have you or the girls eaten any chicken recently?"
"No, I've been quietly burying them out behind the barn.
Angus let out an enormous sigh of relief.
"Good, don't eat any until we see how the rest of them fare. And, Molly, I believe I'll be takin' over your cooking lessons from now on," he said as he gently stroked her hair, hoping to take the sting out of his words.
"Yes, Angus," she replied, sweetly kissing his cheek.
Chapter Nine
The train depot was shrouded in fog when they disembarked. Effie took this as a sign the fates were with them. For Grace, it simply meant another leg of their long journey had been completed. The spark of independence and excitement she felt when they began had been snuffed out somewhere between Omaha and the Rocky Mountains.
Effie suspected it had a great deal more to do with Mr. Blackthorn than with being bored and weary of the journey as Grace told her each time she asked. It seemed the Pinkerton detective had broken more than Grace's trust; he'd broken her heart to some degree. How serious it was, Effie didn't know, but she suspected it went quite deep.
Her lifelong friend had never shown an interest in any particular man, other than the normal
"Get on up to the house now, Molly, before I do something we'll both be sorry for," he said with a regretful sigh as he looked into her shocked eyes. "Don't be frightened, love. We've a passion between us that will only get stronger with time. Your body responds to me as mine does to you. We'll have a good marriage."
"Not if you keep spanking me," she sassed.
Angus laughed and pulled her toward the door.
"Be a good lass and I won't have any reason to spank you," he said firmly.
Molly snorted.
"It seemed to me you were enjoying yourself. That makes me wonder if what you say is true."
"I'll admit it; I did enjoy setting fire to your bottom. You've had me dancin' to your tune long enough. A wee spanking is a small enough price to pay for your antics."
"A wee spanking?" Molly objected as she climbed the back steps. "Spoken like a man who wasn't on the receiving end of it," she continued, rubbing her bottom. "How do I know that's the worst of it then? Once we're wed will you slap me around and call it discipline?"
Angus bounded up the stairs and pulled her into his arms. Tipping her chin up, he looked directly into her eyes and spoke honestly.
"I'll never do that, Molly. You have my solemn oath on the matter. Any skelping you get from me will be where the good Lord intended it, on your backside. I have no compunction in laying a man flat if I see him treating his woman that way. As my wife, you'll be entitled to my protection and I hold that sacred."
Relaxing in his arms, Molly sighed contentedly.
"Now, that being said, lass, I'm not above taking a stout hairbrush or a good Scottish tawse to you if the offense is mighty, but the most you'll have from me are aching buttocks and a good dose of embarrassment for your naughty actions."
"Good heavens, what have I gotten myself into?" she asked, gently banging her forehead against his chest. "Will you help me with the cooking for the party?" she asked hopefully.
"Aye, lass, I will and you might want to get someone in to look at the rest of those chickens. They look a might funny to me, staggering around like they are."
"Oh, Angus," she said with her chin quivering. "I fear I've murdered the poor things with my biscuits."
"Have you or the girls eaten any chicken recently?"
"No, I've been quietly burying them out behind the barn.
Angus let out an enormous sigh of relief.
"Good, don't eat any until we see how the rest of them fare. And, Molly, I believe I'll be takin' over your cooking lessons from now on," he said as he gently stroked her hair, hoping to take the sting out of his words.
"Yes, Angus," she replied, sweetly kissing his cheek.
Chapter Nine
The train depot was shrouded in fog when they disembarked. Effie took this as a sign the fates were with them. For Grace, it simply meant another leg of their long journey had been completed. The spark of independence and excitement she felt when they began had been snuffed out somewhere between Omaha and the Rocky Mountains.
Effie suspected it had a great deal more to do with Mr. Blackthorn than with being bored and weary of the journey as Grace told her each time she asked. It seemed the Pinkerton detective had broken more than Grace's trust; he'd broken her heart to some degree. How serious it was, Effie didn't know, but she suspected it went quite deep.
Her lifelong friend had never shown an interest in any particular man, other than the normal
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