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Epilogue

Lochrose Castle, Strathspey, Scotland

April 1758

Almost two years later…

T he mirror-like waters of Loch Kilburn reflected the clear blue sky and the spring green foliage of the surrounding woods when Robert and Jessie chose a place to share their picnic. A weeping willow tree seemed as good a place as any to spread their blanket amidst the clusters of daffodils and purple crocuses. To Jessie, it seemed like their own private paradise.

It had been some weeks since they'd managed to steal some time alone together during the day. Their infant son, William Robert Alasdair Grant—or Will, as Jessie was wont to call him—had only recently settled down for a proper sleep after a few fractious days and nights of teething. Although Annie Shaw, Tobias's cousin, had made an excellent nursemaid, it was not until this morning that Jessie had felt comfortable enough to leave their precious seven-month-old son for more than a few hours. Dark-haired like Robert, brown-eyed like herself, he was a beautiful boy, healthy and strong, with generally—teething aside—a happy disposition and ready smile.

Just like his father, Jessie thought as she glanced at Robert. He was unpacking the bread, cheese, and French Chablis from the basket Mrs. MacMillan had packed. A lock of his dark hair had fallen across his brow, hiding his deep blue eyes from view. He'd removed his jacket and top boots, and was now dressed only in a linen shirt—open at the neck—and buckskin breeches, thanks to the warm weather. She was suddenly hungry, but not for what was being spread before her on the blanket.

Jessie smiled to herself, contemplating how they would spend the next few hours. Yes, today she was determined to enjoy every single moment she had alone with her handsome husband. She knew they could count on complete privacy here by the loch. There was no one else at Lochrose, save for their son, who could have any reason to claim their time. After all, Lord Strathburn and her father were currently in Inverness on estate business and were not likely to return for another few days.

Even though she was now a viscountess, her father had chosen to continue on as factor. He'd reasoned that the estate would need to have the best of managers to ensure his grandchildren would be inheriting the healthiest of legacies, after a decade of neglect by Simon. And Robert and Lord Strathburn had been happy for him to do so.

Robert had seen that in a very short space of time, her father had made a real difference to the estate's profitability. In fact, it had taken only six months for the estate, under her father's careful stewardship, to generate enough income for the reacquisition of the land which had been sold off to pay the mountainous debts of Lady Strathburn and Simon.

With the restoration of Clan Grant lands and rapid replenishment of the family coffers—helped, in part, by the sale of Robert's ships the Phoenix to Captain Drummond, and the Griffon , to a friend by the name of Alexander MacIvor—Robert was able to offer what he considered suitable compensation to all the clan families who'd lost someone at Culloden. Jessie suspected that Robert's guilt would never be completely assuaged, but she knew he was less troubled than he had been before.

Of course, her father had been initially confounded—and perhaps secretly, more than a wee bit troubled—at the unseemly haste with which she'd become handfasted to Lord Lochrose. Jessie, out of a desire to spare her father unnecessary disquiet, had provided him with a highly edited tale of the events which had taken place over the tumultuous seven days that had brought her and Robert together. She did not like to lie to her father, but detailing all of her near misses—particularly at the hands of Simon and Lady Strathburn—would only cause him stress and would not do a thing to alter what had occurred.

Naturally, her father had also been deeply concerned that she was marrying a reprobate of the first order, even though Lord Lochrose was now a pardoned Jacobite. But Jessie had soon convinced him that Robert genuinely cared for her and she for him, and that she did indeed wish to be his wife. And so it was on a clear, snow-powdered day in November of 1756 that her father had happily walked her down the aisle of Kilburn Kirk to be officially wed to her reformed gentleman Jacobite. It had been one of the most joyous days of Jessie's life.

Lord Strathburn continued to be the most gracious of fathers-in-law, despite Jessie's humble background. He always made her feel like she was Robert's perfect match, and for that she was most grateful. Even after a year-and-a-half of marriage to a peer of the realm, Jessie still found it difficult to believe she would be the next Countess of Strathburn, and that her bonnie wee babe would one day take his father's place as the earl. She felt truly blessed for all that she'd been given, not the least of which was her most beloved and loving husband.

Lord Strathburn had quietly mourned the untimely death of his wife. After the countess's body had been discovered with Simon's dueling pistol in a deserted laneway near Calton Hill, there had of course, been an investigation. Fortunately, Captain MacBryde had believed both her own and Robert's stories—that she had been dazed after the sedan chair accident, and that Robert had come upon her as he'd been returning from Leith Docks. As for Baird, he was never seen or heard from again.

Given the lack of evidence to explain the untimely end of Lady Strathburn, the coroner had ultimately made a finding of "death by misadventure" rather than suicide, much to the relief of the scandal-mired Strathburns. Jessie thanked God every day that she and Robert had both somehow managed to escape unscathed.

Jessie suspected Lord Strathburn felt both the sorrow of losing a woman he'd once loved as well as the disappointment of realizing how bitter and vengeful she'd become. But he'd slowly adapted to the life of a widower. Indeed, it was evident to both Jessie and Robert that the earl's recently recovered joie de vivre and vigor had directly coincided with the birth of young Will. Lord Strathburn was very much the doting grandfather—though he had stringent competition—and could often be found in the nursery or the garden, dandling his laughing grandson on his knee.

Jessie also firmly believed that Robert's return home, together with the arrival of a healthy grandson, were the only reasons her father-in-law was able to cope with another loss in his life—the unexpected death of Simon.

Word of Simon's demise had come to Lochrose a little over a year ago. After the Phoenix had departed for the Caribbean, Robert had sent word of Lady Strathburn's death to Drummond via another merchant ship bound for Jamaica. According to Drummond, Simon had not taken the news well. He had, by all accounts, gotten horrendously drunk in a tavern in a highly disreputable part of Kingston, and had been killed in a taproom brawl.

Jessie knew that Robert had fully intended to release Simon from his tenure aboard the Phoenix once a year and a day had passed. Drummond had reported that prior to putting into port in Kingston, Simon had actually started to show some acceptance of his lot and had begun to willingly participate as an active crewmember aboard the ship. This news had comforted Lord Strathburn a little. The idea that his youngest son had demonstrated some strength of character indicated that perhaps at last, Simon had seen the error of his ways and was actively attempting to reform himself.

As for Robert, Jessie knew in her heart that the deep scars he'd borne for so long were beginning to heal. He'd embraced his life here at Lochrose. Reveled in it. She could see it every day in his easy smiles and the laughter frequently alight in his blue eyes…or oftentimes it was desire. Indeed, the eyes regarding her now contained a decidedly heated, speculative look as he handed her a glass of wine.

Jessie accepted the cool, pale Chablis and gave her husband a deliberately provocative smile. Keeping her eyes locked with Robert's, she took a sip, then she carefully placed the glass to the side of the blanket. She wondered if he'd already guessed what her plan was. Although they'd been married nearly eighteen months, they'd never once visited the loch to make love. It was definitely time for her and Robert to create a new and lasting memory of their own in this beautiful place.

Robert raised a dark eyebrow. "The wine is not to your taste, my love?"

Jessie smiled again and began to fiddle with the ribbons lacing the front of her gown's bodice. "It's lovely, but…I rather think I hunger for the taste of something else right now."

She noticed the immediate flare of reciprocal hunger in Robert's eyes as she continued to loosen the ribbons, slowly revealing her fine lawn chemise. She'd deliberately chosen this dress—a gorgeous albeit frivolous creation of pale lemon and ivory striped silk with a low scooped neckline and trailing ivory lace sleeves—for its combination of prettiness and ease of removal.

Since seduction of her husband had been foremost in her mind as she'd readied for the picnic, she'd also dispensed with wearing stays. Jessie let her gown slip off her shoulders before she proceeded to slowly undo the three pearl buttons fastening the front of her chemise, one by one. All the while, Robert was watching her with eager and avid attention.

He leaned back on one elbow, his long legs and naked feet extending out across the dark blue wool rug, the wine glass he held in his fingers all but forgotten. When she dropped her eyes to the telling swell within his breeches, she felt the force of her own arousal begin to pulse deep within her. Her breathing quickened and her nipples hardened to tight, aching points.

What was more arousing? How he looked, or how he looked at her?

Her breasts now free of the constraining fabric of her bodice and chemise, Jessie set about the task of slowly unpinning her hair from the carefully styled arrangement on top of her head, letting the long curls tumble about her bare shoulders. She knew Robert loved it when she wore her hair unbound, and her husband's eyes didn't leave her once. She was thrilled to see that the pace of his breathing had increased as well.

"I think it's a wee bit warm today, milord, and ye're wearing decidedly too many clothes, dinna you agree?" Jessie asked, her voice husky with want. She leaned forward and set aside his wine glass before loosening the cuffs on his sleeves and pulling the shirt from the waistband of his breeches.

She was about to lift the garment over his head when Robert sat forward and pulled the shirt off himself, throwing it onto the grass unheeded. Her eyes dropped briefly to take in the sheer beauty of his lean, well-muscled torso. His mouth was now a mere breath away from hers. She licked her lips and his mouth tipped into a wolfish smile.

"Still hungry?" her husband asked, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke. He sought to tease her too, but she was not finished with him, not by any means.

Jessie kissed him lightly on the mouth before drawing back. "Verra much so. But I think I'm in the mood for something a wee bit more full-bodied than a kiss."

After eighteen months of wedded bliss to a passionate, loving man, she was shy no more when it came to giving and receiving physical pleasure. Not that she ever really had been when it came to Robert.

Robert let her push him back onto the rug and she ran her fingers over the hard planes of his chest and ridged abdomen until she reached his breeches, delighting in the way he was holding his breath, waiting.

Jessie flicked the buttons of his fall front open with tantalizing slowness, deliberately building his anticipation until at last, his engorged member sprang free. An intensely hot thrill shivered through her.

He was all hers to do with as she liked.

Smiling, she caught his heavy-lidded gaze and brushed one of her peaked nipples across the head of his cock, noting with satisfaction his sharp intake of breath. She lazily ran her fingers down the long, rock-hard shaft until she grasped him firmly around the base, the better to hold him steady as she feasted.

No longer able to resist the temptation he offered, she bent her head and swirled her tongue around the ruddy head, glorying in the silky texture and musky taste of his sex.

Delicious .

He groaned and she felt his hands twist into her hair. She took as much as she could of his rigid length into her mouth, sucking rhythmically up and down with hot sliding suction, knowing just how much aching pleasure she was imparting.

Jessie reveled in the power she had over him, thrilled to hear him pant and groan her name as he began to lose control and swell even more in her mouth…until he exploded and she drank willingly of his warm, salty seed. Raising her head, Jessie licked her lips and smiled down at her husband as he lay sprawled before her, spent and gasping. There was no sight in the world she could ever possibly enjoy more.

When Robert opened his eyes at last, they were dark, almost black with desire. He reached up and pulled her head down to claim her mouth, his tongue stroking and teasing her thoroughly whilst he gently tugged and rolled one of her nipples with the fingers of his other hand. Jessie moaned and he released her mouth.

"My turn now," he growled before rolling her underneath him. "You're not the only one who's starving, mo chridhe ."

Robert looked down at the beautiful woman beneath him and tipped his mouth into a slow, crooked smile. The divine creature that was his wife had taken her fill. Now it was definitely his turn to taste and tease until she shuddered and cried out his name.

He'd already suspected that she had more than a picnic in mind when she'd asked Mrs.MacMillan to pack a basket for luncheon. Will, their joyful, healthy son, had been all smiles in the nursery earlier so he knew Jessie would be happy to leave the babe in the care of his nurse for most of the afternoon.

Which meant he'd been looking forward to this time alone with Jessie all morning.

No, that wasn't quite true. If Robert were brutally honest with himself, he knew he'd longed to make love to Jessie by the loch from the moment he'd first laid eyes on her, right here, all that time ago. For the life of him he didn't know why he hadn't thought to organize a lakeside tryst sooner.

But his wife had, and he was about to thank her.

He claimed her sweet siren's mouth and caressed the sensitive undersides of her full breasts with feather-light touches that provoked her rose-pink nipples into tight succulent buds. She shifted so that his fingers grazed over the furled points.

He smiled against her lips as he gave one of her nipples a gentle pinch. "Do you want me to taste you here, mo ghaoil ?"

"Aye," Jessie murmured, burying her hands in his hair and pushing his head down as she arched up. "Ye torture me with wantin'."

"Hmm. Well, let me see if I can ease the pain." Robert dipped his head and began to suckle and lave each breast in turn until she was panting and squirming, her legs and hips pushing against his, making his cock throb all over again.

He rose up onto his knees and lifted her skirts, running his hands up her stocking-clad calves, then over her bare slender thighs until he reached the tight ginger curls that hid her sex. She parted her legs willingly, and he smiled with lazy satisfaction when he saw how she glistened with moisture. He was going to enjoy this.

Robert slid this thumbs along her folds, parting them gently until he had exposed the hard nub of her clitoris. Hot lust pounded through him at the sight, making him dizzy. Bending forward, he delicately flicked her quivering center with his tongue. Jessie gasped and her hands twisted into the blanket beneath her.

"More?" he murmured, glancing up along her body to meet her gaze. He was pleased to see desire had darkened her eyes to the color of molten honey.

"Much more," his wanton wife panted as she spread herself wider.

This time when Robert lowered his mouth, it was to sup with reckless abandon until he'd sampled every part of his wife's delicious sex. Her musk-scented dew was like manna from heaven on his lips and tongue. He couldn't get enough, especially when she writhed beneath him, arching her hips and pulling his hair. The thing he relished most of all was hearing her increasingly frenzied gasps and moans until she neared, then reached her peak. Bringing his wife to a spectacular, quaking, cataclysmic finish was one of his principal joys in life. It always would be.

Robert looked up from between Jessie's thighs as her soft cries of ecstasy began to fade. Even though she appeared thoroughly sated, he wasn't done yet. His cock was definitely ready again. "I'm afraid I'm still ravenous, my lady."

Her eyes flew open, and she laughed, a sensual throaty sound. "You are a greedy man, Lord Lochrose."

"Always when it comes to you, mo ghaoil ."

He gently drew Jessie upright so that she was kneeling. Her fiery hair was tangled all about her bare shoulders, but the sleeves of her gown still managed to cling to her upper arms. The scar where his bullet had grazed her had long since faded. He placed a soft kiss on the faint mark, then eased her sleeves and chemise down until her upper body was completely bare except for her wildly tumbling locks.

He swallowed, drinking her in. Jessie was indeed a goddess. And she was all his.

Robert lay down, then lifted his wife upward and forward until she was straddling him, her warm slick folds teasing the head of his cock. She smiled, gold heat flaring in her eyes as she reached down to grasp the base of him before sinking down gracefully, almost languidly, taking his throbbing shaft deep inside her. The moist heat and clenching muscles of her body were almost Robert's undoing. Dear God, he was suspended between agony and ecstasy.

He gritted his teeth, willing himself not to give into the urge to spend straightaway like a green youth. As if sensing the tenuous grip he had on his control, Jessie stilled. She didn't rock or bob or pulse. Instead, she bent down and kissed him gently, easing his tension a fraction.

When he'd regained sufficient mastery over his urges, Robert locked his gaze with hers.

"Ride me, my love," he all but growled, gripping her hips and encouraging her to set the rhythm of their coupling. "Ride me however you like."

Jessie took his cue and rose slowly up then down, up then down, establishing a deliciously unhurried pace. The sliding friction of her tight wet passage, the way she clasped his engorged flesh, all of it—everything she did to him—was the most exquisite of tortures.

Of course, it wasn't long before they were both overwhelmed by the need to find ecstasy. Jessie's breath started to come in short, ragged gasps as Robert bucked his hips harder and faster, perfectly matching the tempo of her wild plunging. When she leaned forward, bracing her weight on the ground by his shoulders, he cupped her breasts and plundered her mouth, pushing his tongue deep inside. He couldn't get enough of her.

And then at last, Robert felt Jessie spasm convulsively around his pumping length. She threw her head back and cried out with pleasure. As her body rippled around him in greedy climax, his own release was immediately triggered. With a long guttural groan, Robert lost himself in Jessie, his seed erupting into her clenching womb. Replete, sated at last, he buried his face in her neck and breathed in the sweet, intoxicating scent that was so essentially her, glorying in the knowledge of their shared bliss.

And love.

Jessie raised her head and stroked the tangled, damp hair from his brow. Her eyes glowed with deep emotion. "I love you, Robert Grant," she whispered. "Ye're the master of my heart and body and soul. Do no' ever doubt it."

Robert framed his wife's beloved face with his hands, holding her warm gaze with his. This woman, his Jessie, she'd captured his heart and soul from the first moment he'd seen her, his lady of the loch. She made him feel whole again. Healed.

"And I am yours, Jessie Grant, completely. Now and always," he stated with absolute sincerity.

Her answering smile, soft and languid, was all the invitation Robert needed to claim her mouth again. He pushed his fingers gently into her hair and kissed her deeply yet with tender reverence, wanting her to know not just through words, but his touch, that his whole world began and ended with her.

And he would never stop loving her. Ever

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