The Highlander's Christmas Countess (The Lairds Most Likely 8)

“Well, this is a surprise,” he said in a neutral voice after a long silence.

She couldn’t help feeling that he was toying wit

h her. Her response emerged with a hint of a snap. “I can’t help what I feel.”

He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Because I’ve spent the last two days convinced I’ve blighted your life.”

Actually the prospect of a lifetime of unrequited love could fit that description. But she met his eyes as bravely as she could. “I’m proud to be your wife.”

To her relief, his stern expression lightened. “And I’m proud to be your husband.”

“You…you are?”

“Aye, with all my heart.” His eyes warmed, as his lips curved into a smile. “Because you see, I’m very happy to marry you, Christabel Urquhart. I’m even happier now that I know you’re not averse to the idea either.”

She frowned, as she struggled to make sense of how the world had changed in these last few seconds. “Are you saying…”

His smile broadened. “I’m saying that if the stableboy was looking inappropriately lovelorn, so was the laird’s nephew.”

A frail seedling of hope unfurled in her chest. This sounded promising. It did indeed. Perhaps the day wasn’t proving such a disaster after all. Lovelorn mightn’t be love, but it was a good start.

“Are you…are you saying you’re content with how things have turned out?”

“I’m saying that there’s nobody I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. What made me feel as low as a snake’s belly was that I was sure my damned curiosity meant you’d been forced into marrying me, when it was the last thing you wanted.”

The seedling of hope stretched toward the light. “We…we seem to have been mistaken in each other.”

He kept watching her, as if he saw every breath she took. “We do.”

She seized her courage in both hands and met his burning gaze. “So what are we going to do about it?”

Chapter 10

Quentin had spent the last two days racked between lacerating guilt for snaring Kit in this marriage and unworthy happiness that he’d caught the girl he wanted.

Now it turned out his happiness wasn’t so unworthy after all. Because it seemed the girl he wanted wanted him, too.

It was all too huge a change for his mind to encompass. So when his lovely bride asked him what he intended to do, he spoke of his most immediate concern. “What I’d like to do is take my wife to bed.”

Shining blue eyes widened, and he rushed to continue before she could send him to the devil. Or run out of the room, shrieking in terror. “But I’m well aware that you hardly know me and we had no opportunity to court, so if you’d like to wait, I understand.”

When Kit licked her lips, he closed his eyes and reminded himself he was a gentleman. He also reminded himself that she’d been bullied and mistreated. He owed it to her to let her set the timetable for her seduction.

At least there was some satisfaction now in knowing that there would indeed be a seduction. He opened his eyes to catch her watching him.

“That’s very generous,” she said, her expression unreadable.

He smiled. “I’m a prince after all. Ask Mrs. McCluskey.”

“I don’t need to.” She stood up and approached him. “Will you kiss me, Quentin?”

Surprise shuddered through him. And anticipation. This sounded promising.

“I’d love to.”

She stopped about a foot away. This close, he read the nervousness swirling beneath her bravado. But he already knew she was brave. If she wasn’t, she’d have buckled under her stepbrother’s tyranny, instead of defying him by running away disguised as a boy.

Christabel Urquhart, now MacNab, was so strong, but she was also vulnerable. He felt a surge of protectiveness as he gazed into her exquisite face. The vows he’d spoken this morning took on a new weight. While he lived, he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.