Chapter 23

J essie found it difficult to settle to anything for the remainder of the afternoon. Even though she was exhausted, her mind was too restless for sleep, yet she was unable to concentrate on any activity for more than a few minutes. Several books were selected from Lord Strathburn's small library downstairs then discarded. She attempted to repair a tear in the hem of her black wool cloak, but soon tired of the task.

Eventually she deposited herself in the gray damask shepherdess chair in her bedchamber and simply stared into the fire, her mind lingering on Robert. Exquisite anticipation curled through her as she allowed herself to think about tonight when she and Robert met privately to discuss their future…and what that might look like when they were husband and wife.

And if they just happened to kiss, and kiss again, and then they made love…

Jessie's heart fluttered with excitement. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the headrest of her chair, imagining what could be…

"Miss Munroe, it's time for ye to get ready for dinner."

Heavens, she'd fallen asleep. Jessie stirred and stretched before attempting to focus her drowsy gaze on Alison. "What time is it?" she asked on a yawn.

"Five o'clock, miss," replied the maid, lighting the candles on the mantel. "And dinner is at seven."

"Oh." Jessie frowned, her stomach suddenly aswarm with nerves. She'd slept for over an hour and had much to do to get ready for Robert's celebratory dinner. Which brought her to her next concern. What on earth was she to wear?

A stained traveling dress or simple woolen day gown would not suit at all. She was betrothed to a viscount and would be dining with an earl. She so didn't want to disappoint Robert.

Rising stiffly from her seat, her gaze drifted to the bed—and her breath caught. There, upon the gray brocade counterpane, was the most beautiful gown she'd ever seen. The garment's amber-gold silk bodice and full skirts were offset with a rich, cream silk stomacher adorned with delicate bows and tiny ribbon rosettes, and a profusion of cream lace cascaded from the ends of the sleeves.

"Who…? How…? Where did this come from?" Jessie stammered as she crossed to the bed and gently touched the exquisite garment with a trembling finger.

"I canna be sure miss, but perhaps it was the same someone who delivered the matching shoes and undergarments." Alison pointed to a pair of cream silk slippers embroidered with tiny seed pearls sitting on a nearby footstool. A pair of almost sheer, ivory silk stockings and a fine lawn chemise had been draped across the armchair beside the bed. There was even a pair of satin gloves.

Jessie smiled, grateful tears brimming as she clasped her hands together beneath her chin. Robert must have purchased all this for her. No doubt from a very expensive modiste. She would never be able to thank him enough.

Within an hour, Jessie had bathed and with Alison's help, had changed into her new evening attire. Everything fit perfectly. Well, everything except for the bodice perhaps…

Regarding herself in the dressing table mirror as Alison arranged her hair, Jessie could see a good deal of the tops of her breasts as they swelled above the gown's low neckline. Never in her life had she worn anything quite so revealing. She was certain she'd be blushing all night.

Alison, on the other hand, did not seem to notice that there was anything amiss with her mistress's appearance. She tamed Jessie's curls into an elaborate yet artfully arranged pile on top of her head, with a few longer tendrils cascading over one shoulder. The effect was indeed eye-catching, perhaps even elegant. Jessie smiled at her reflection. Perhaps she would look the part of a viscount's fiancée , even though inside she was as jumpy as a mountain hare.

When she was ready at last, Jessie moved to the full-length looking glass by the washstand, and turned slowly this way and that, admiring the swish of the fine silk and the way the light caught the dark golden honey tones. The color of the dress was the perfect foil to her red-gold hair.

"Oh miss, you look verra beautiful," sighed Alison, looking on.

"Indeed, she does," agreed a deep, decidedly masculine voice.

Jessie whirled around to face Robert.

Oh, my Lord . The sight of him lounging against the doorframe took her breath away. He'd shaved, revealing the strong, tanned planes of his face and she instantly longed to feel his smooth jaw beneath her palm. His brown-black hair was simply tied back as usual but with a black velvet ribbon instead of a leather strip. She was pleased he resisted the fashion of wearing powder, or a periwig. With hair so thick and darkly rich, it would be a crime to hide it.

Jessie's gaze drifted further downward over Robert's superbly tailored evening attire. A black velvet frock coat that seemed to be molded to his broad shoulders was worn over an ivory silk shirt and torso-hugging waistcoat of cobalt-blue brocade. A sapphire pin, the same deep blue as his eyes, winked at her from the depths of a snowy lace jabot at his throat. And how sinfully tight were his black, satin knee-length breeches and ivory silk stockings? Why, they clung, almost indecently to the long, well-defined muscles of his thighs and calves.

There was no trace of the Jacobite rebel left. Lord Lochrose, devastatingly handsome rake, had indeed returned.

And he's all mine . Jessie swallowed, stunned by the realization. So much so, she barely registered the fact that Robert's gaze drifted over her with blatant appreciation in turn, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

He pushed away from the door and stepped into the room, glancing at Alison. "Thank you for so ably assisting Miss Munroe. That will be all for now."

The maid bobbed a curtsy. "Thank ye, milord," she murmured, blushing prettily before quitting the room.

Jessie somehow found her voice. "It was ye, wasn't it, Robert"—she gestured at her attire—"who arranged all this for me? I dinna ken how ye managed it, but I want to thank ye. Never in my life have I worn anything so divine."

As Robert moved toward her, his admiring gaze stroked over her again. "The clothes only look beautiful because of the divine creature wearing them, mo chridhe, " he said huskily. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around so she was facing the looking glass, her back pressed against the hardness of his lean torso, her bottom resting against his hips.

Transfixed by their reflection in the mirror, Jessie watched as Robert bent his dark head and placed a light kiss on the sensitive flesh where her neck met her shoulder, before trailing a long finger along her collarbone, raising gooseflesh.

"You know, as beautiful as you are," he murmured, his breath a caress against her skin, "there is still something missing from this ensemble." As his eyes met hers in the looking glass, his mouth quirked into a smile.

Jessie shook her head in awed bewilderment. "I dinna need anything else, Robert. Truly," she whispered. What else could he possibly have to give her?

"Ah, I beg to differ, mo ghaoil ." Robert, continuing to smile, reached into the inside of his evening jacket and withdrew a long, slim sandalwood box, fastened with a silver clasp. He reached his arm around her and placed the box in her hands. "For you, Jessie, my love."

With trembling fingers, Jessie undid the clasp and lifted the lid. Inside, nestled against a bed of midnight blue satin, lay a string of lustrous, creamy pearls and a matching pair of pearl drop earrings. She gasped, overwhelmed. She raised her gaze to Robert's reflection and noticed he was grinning broadly.

"Robert… I… This is too much," she breathed.

He responded by placing another feather-light kiss behind her ear. "It's not nearly enough," he said, reaching for the necklace before placing it carefully around her neck and fastening the ear bobs to her ears. The pearls glowed warmly against her skin.

Never before had Jessie felt so beautiful. Or adored. The way Robert's deep blue eyes glowed, she could almost believe he really did love her. Her heart capered beneath her breast. Could it be true?

"Now, my lady"—he reached for her hand and placed a soft kiss on her fingertips, making her quiver anew—"let me escort you to dinner. I believe some of our guests have already arrived."

Jessie placed her gloved hand on his sleeve and together they descended to the drawing room.

All heads turned as Gordon, the butler, announced their arrival. "The Viscount Lochrose, the Master of Strathburn, and Miss Jessie Munroe."

Jessie could see Lord and Lady Strathburn by the fireplace, the earl beaming proudly and the countess, unsurprisingly, glowering at her and Robert. To Jessie's pleasant surprise they had been chatting with Lord Arniston and an attractive, dark-haired woman who appeared to Jessie to be of similar age to the countess. Lord Strathburn introduced her as Jean, Lady Arniston.

Jessie was also intrigued to learn that the Lord Advocate had wed Jean, his second wife, a mere month ago. She wondered if Lord Arniston's recent re-marriage had contributed to his magnanimous attitude toward Robert. Perhaps the romanticism of a handfasting influenced his decision to grant a pardon as it strengthened the impression that Robert was over his wild ways. Jessie had a feeling that Lord Strathburn had known the engagement would work in Robert's favor all along.

Robert led Jessie around the room, introducing her to the rest of the assembled guests—the minister of the nearby Canongate Kirk and his lovely wife, as well as long-time friends of Lord Strathburn, Baron Brose, his wife, and their daughter, Agnes. The last guest Robert introduced Jessie to was an interesting character indeed—Kenneth Drummond, the captain of Robert's merchant ship the Phoenix .

Jessie warmed to the barrel-chested and bluff seaman immediately. There was an obvious close friendship between him and Robert. She liked the way Captain Drummond's dark eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at her, which was often. She suspected he had a trove of amusing stories about his travels around the world and, no doubt, Robert's exploits. She certainly looked forward to hearing them.

Following the round of introductions, Gordon and Alison served French champagne—courtesy of Captain Drummond—to everyone. Glass in hand, Lord Strathburn led his guests in a heartfelt toast to Robert's return home.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen," he continued, scanning the room, carefully catching everyone's eye. "I have one more pleasant duty to perform before dinner." He gestured toward Jessie and Robert, smiling broadly. "It is with the greatest joy that I officially announce the betrothal of my dear son, Robert, to the delightful young lady you've all just had the pleasure of meeting, Miss Jessie Munroe. Please, raise your glasses and let us drink a toast to the handfasted couple."

The spontaneous applause and immediate good wishes bestowed by all—with the notable exception of Lady Strathburn—lifted Jessie's spirits so much, she couldn't help but smile at the assembled group. When everyone turned to their own conversations, she sipped her champagne and over the rim of her glass, noticed Robert watching her.

He leaned close and taking advantage of the cover the folds of her skirts provided, reached for her hand. His voice was low in her ear. "It warms my heart to see you smiling so much. May it always be so, my love."

Jessie gently squeezed his fingers. Her own heart, indeed her entire body, felt suffused with warmth. But beneath the quiet pleasure of knowing Robert cared for her, she also felt a trifle melancholy. Everything was perfect, but for one thing.

The guests began dispersing to the dining room, but Robert kept her by his side. He brought her captured hand to his lips. "What is it?"

"I canna hide anything from ye, can I?" she said, summoning a wry smile. She let out a small sigh. "I'm just a wee bit sad that my father is no' here this evening to share these special moments."

Robert's thumb lightly caressed the bare skin of her wrist. "I understand completely. Tomorrow, Father and I will send word to him at Lochrose. In a few days, after I've arranged my affairs here, we will return to see him. Will that ease your mind?"

Jessie nodded and smiled her gratitude. "Aye."

"Excellent." Robert tucked her hand into his arm, then escorted her into the dining room.

The next few hours passed pleasantly over a dinner Jessie suspected was fit for the King himself. By the end of the four-course meal, she felt quite sated and relaxed, warmed by the convivial conversation and the wine she'd sipped during dinner. All the stresses and worries of the past few days had slipped away from her like a dissipating mist. She slanted a glance at Robert beside her, still quite bemused by the fact she was engaged to someone like him. Perhaps sensing her gaze, he turned and through the cool silk of her skirts she felt his large hand on her knee.

"Remember we both agreed to finish our stairway conversation about our situation , sweet Jessie," he murmured, his breath caressing her ear. "Will you wait for me in your bedchamber after our guests depart?"

A tremor of delicious anticipation slid down Jessie's spine. "I look forward to it, milord," she whispered back, all trace of contented drowsiness gone, replaced instead with a feeling of heady expectation. She couldn't wait.

She took another small sip of her wine and let her attention drift to the far end of the table where Lord and Lady Strathburn sat…and her breathing faltered. The countess was watching her. The woman's lips twisted in a strange smile as she arched a brow and raised her glass to Jessie, making a mock toast.

Jessie's nape prickled with unease as her gaze skittered back to Robert.

Both Robert and Lord Strathburn might care for her, but how was she to live here, or at Lochrose, with that vindictive woman breathing down her neck? Wishing her ill at every turn? Lord Strathburn had banished Simon from the house, and she was certain Robert would take further measures to ensure his half-brother never crossed paths with her again. But unless Robert arranged an alternative situation for them once they were wed, it was likely that she would be living under the same roof as the countess.

How was she to endure that?

As if attuned to her disquiet, Robert reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers beneath the cover of the table. Jessie squeezed his hand in return and he smiled. The warm light in his eyes made her heart flip and she crushed down the foreboding inside her.

Everything will be all right with Robert by my side. Come what may, Jessie was certain they could build a happy life together. She wouldn't have it any other way.