The Highlander's Christmas Quest (The Lairds Most Likely 5)

"Kirsty. We dinnae stand on ceremony…"

"…here on Askaval." He finished the sentence together with her, and they both laughed. She started to feel a wee bit less on edge.

"Kirsty, I love ye madly, and I want to spend the rest of my life at your side." His deep voice vibrated with intense feeling. "Would ye do me the inestimable honor of consenting to be my wife?"

How could anyone survive such joy? "Dougal, that’s lovely."

He stared at her with such a glow in his eyes that she felt the last of her doubts vanish like Highland mist in the sun. "It would be even lovelier if ye said yes, mo chridhe."

She gave a splutter of choked laughter and blinked tears away from her eyes. "Ye must know I love you. I was yours from the moment I first saw ye." The last time she’d confessed her love, she’d felt guilty and ashamed. Not now. "I’d be proud to call myself your wife. So, aye, Dougal, aye forever more. I’ll marry ye as soon as ye like."

"Kirsty, ye make me the happiest man in the world…" His voice cracked, and he stumbled to his feet to seize her in his arms. She was startled to realize that he hadn’t been as sure of her as he should have been. That uncertainty even more than his beautiful words convinced her that this really was a matter of life and death to him. He hadn’t exaggerated when he arrived this morning.

"Oh, Dougal…" she sighed, leaning forward. His arms wrapped tighter around her, and his lips met hers. For an endless interval, she basked in his passion. She’d thought his first kiss was thrilling beyond measure, but this one, now that they’d both exchanged vows of love, expressed such poignant emotion, it made her want to cry.

When he raised his head, she saw her profound reaction to their kiss reflected in his shaken expression. "Och, my love…"

But she had more to say before she yielded to the desire rising between them. She shifted away just far enough to speak. "I will never, never lie to ye again. Ye must believe me, Dougal."

"Leave that, my bonny. I told ye – I’m glad ye did."

"That’s a wee bit hard to believe."

"But true, I swear. When I think I could have sailed away a week ago, having known ye a mere few hours…"

"And now we’re going to be married. I can hardly believe it."

"Aye, believe it, sweetheart." He stared down at her with dazzled pleasure. "This promises to be a very happy Christmas. And even better, we have a lifetime of happy Christmases ahead of us."

She rose on her toes to place a kiss on his lips. "Aye, so we do, my braw Highland laddie. But till the day I die, you’ll be the best present I ever receive."

***

Not long after sunrise the next morning, Kirsty pushed open the heavy oak door to the chapel in the woods, near where she and Dougal had spent the afternoon cutting greenery. A smile lifted her lips as she recalled the laughter of those hours. Dougal had been a stranger then, only newly arrived on Askaval, but he’d already felt like the other half of her soul. He’d always felt like that, even when he was furious with her f

or scheming against him.

She hadn’t had much sleep. At the ceilidh, she and Dougal had danced most of the night away, and she was strung tight with happiness and lack of sleep. The islanders had greeted her betrothal to the heir to Bruard with acclaim. The Christmas ceilidh was always a convivial affair. This year, the celebration had threatened to lift the roof off Tigh na Mara.

The only warning that another person was lurking in the shadows was a rustle from the dark corner behind her. Something thick and suffocating dropped down to cover her head and block off all vision.

She gasped, then opened her mouth wide to scream. The minister lived close by and with luck he’d hear her and come to her aid.

The scream died on her lips. Her body, which had tautened for a struggle, slumped against the tall form behind her.

"Dinnae call out," a deep voice said, as strong arms wrapped around her.

"Ye dinnae need to cover my head, Dougal," she said, breathless not so much because of the heavy cloak over her face, as because her heart soared with wild excitement.

"Ye knew it was me." He sounded a little disappointed.

"The cloak smells like ye."

"Ye recognize that?"

"Of course I do." She shifted in his grasp. "And anyway, ye sent me a note saying you wanted to meet me here before breakfast. What on earth are ye doing?"

"I’m kidnapping ye."