The Highlander's Lost Lady (The Lairds Most Likely 3)

When Fergus paused again, Diarmid frowned. His friend built up to saying something important. He knew the signs.

Fergus drank some more whisky before he went on. “Although her position would be even stronger, if she was married to one of those powerful supporters.”

A silence as hard and sharp as a slap crashed down and sucked all the air from the room.

“Married…” Diarmid said stupidly, feeling like that one word from Fergus punched the breath out of him.

“Aye. It would solve a gey lot of problems.”

His hands clenched on the arms of his chair, and every muscle tightened in rejection. “It’s…”

Fergus’s eyes were compassionate as they rested on him. “It’s a big step. And really ye dinna owe it to her. After all, it’s only chance that got ye involved in this mess in the first place.”

Chance or destiny?

From the moment he found Fiona on that beach, he’d felt fated to become her defender. These last days of fleeing the Grants and finding shelter at Achnasheen had only strengthened that conviction.

“I can see the idea doesnae appeal.” Fergus rose to pick up the decanter and refill their glasses, as if he hadn’t just shattered all Diarmid’s ideas about his future. “Forget I said anything.”

Married to Fiona? The suggestion was absurd.

Except it wasn’t.

It was no real effort to picture her as mistress of Invertavey. God forgive him, he could picture more than that. Fiona in his bed every night. Fiona presenting him with a child and wearing that same proud, exhausted smile he’d seen on Marina’s face three days ago. Fiona at his side as they made plans and established a life and grew old together.

No. No, it was impossible.

“She doesnae want me.” His tone was grim. He couldn’t help recalling that farrago of an attempt at seduction in the bothy.

Fergus considered that statement with a frown. “But ye want her.”

It wasn’t a question. Why would it be? Diarmid might struggle to hide his powerful yen for the woman he’d brought to Achnasheen, but Fergus knew him like a brother.

He made a helpless gesture. “Och, how could I fail to want the lassie? She’s brave and stalwart and in trouble.”

“And bonny.” Fergus set the decanter back on the sideboard and sat down, his attention unwavering on Diarmid. “Ye always swore you’d never marry a beautiful woman.”

An unamused smile flattened Diarmid’s lips. “After what happened between my parents, can ye blame me?”

Fergus shook his head. “Fiona’s no’ like your mother. Your mother followed her passions, with nae thought for her responsibilities. Fiona has put herself at considerable risk to save her daughter, including trusting herself to strangers for help. I’d say she has a loyal and gallant heart.”

“Nobody ever said that about my mother,” Diarmid said bitterly.

“No.” Fergus lifted his glass to take a sip. After a thorny silence, he went on. “It’s a huge change, a lifelong commitment. You’d forsake any chance of finding a woman ye loved and marrying her.”

Diarmid tried to imagine such a lady, but it was impossible when Fiona’s face filled his mind. “After what Fiona’s been through, I doubt she wants another husband.”

“No, I ken that. She’s like a mistreated filly, shying at the sight of the bridle.”

Dash it, Diarmid should reject this outlandish scheme out of hand. Marriage to Fiona was a crazy idea. After all, a fortnight ago, he’d had no idea she even existed.

If he went ahead with this, it was possible he’d never have a wife in his bed or legitimate children to succeed him. Fiona’s painful, arousing, distressing attempt at seduction had shown him that any man who wanted her needed to be kind and patient and ready to forsake his expectations of passion. At least in the short term.

But he was kind. And he was patient. And if a marriage protected her from the Grants, he had time to help her face her fears.

Heat flooded him as he imagined luring Fiona into pleasure’s realm. Too quickly, the heat threatened to turn into a conflagration. He struggled to clear his head and made himself think of what else Fergus had said. “Do ye think a legal challenge is feasible?”

Fergus shrugged. “I’m no’ an expert, but I imagine Fiona has grounds to claim her daughter back. Whether a court would go so far as to agree with me, I dinna ken. But it’s worth asking the question.”