Page 68 of Her Highlander's Darkest Temptation
To her surprise, Maisie gave a shy grin. “Och, a wee bit... I never cared much fer it, but Ewan kens how, an’ he offered tae show me, so we could give notes tae each other. An’ cause of him bein’ second-in-command and me possibly movin’ up in the household, I wouldnae want tae embarrass his lairdship, nor Ewan either. We’ve been meetin’ in the library here an’ there, an’ he’s been teachin me.”
She tipped her head toward the note. “Cannae read most, but I thought I recognized the signature, from me laird’s writin’s. An’ I can recognize the first letter…”Then she stopped, blinking, jaw snapping closed as she stared at the missive. “But… Laird Ranald daesnae ever use his first name… and leavin’ a note like a flower on a pillow…”
Lydia blushed further as Maisie’s jaw dropped, eyes wide. “Ye… an’... Laird Ranald…”
“Aye.” Lydia ducked her head. “I didnae intend it. But I happened across him one night in the hall, when neither o’ us could sleep. We talked, an’ then, it happened again, and then…”
She was interrupted by a laugh, just before Maisie wrapped her in an embrace so strong it threatened to drive the breath from her lungs. “So that’s why ye’ve been coming to our room late or leavin’ early some nights!”
“It was…”
“Och, I’ve nae need tae ken aught else, save one thing. Daes he make ye happy? An’ dae ye make him happy? The way Ewan an’ I dae?”
Lydia’s cheeks were burning, but she managed a smile and a shy response. “I cannot speak for you and Ewan, but yes, he makes me very happy. And I… it is my hope that I bring him happiness as well.”
“Good.” Maisie’s smile turned into a smirk. “I did wonder why me laird seemed so well-rested an’ nearly cheerful on a couple o’ morns, an’ now I ken why.”
“I…” Lydia felt more tongue-tied than she’d ever been. She was glad Maisie wasn’t turning on her, the way she’d feared.
“Och, stop lookin’ so wary, like ye expect tae be slapped. I’ll wager Evelyn kens as much as I. An’ in any case, it daesnae matter. If ye’re good fer me laird, then ye have me support.” Maisie hugged her again, then grasped her shoulders, turned her toward the door, and gave her a small push. “If the laird is waiting fer ye, then go. Dinnae keep him waiting!”
Lydia managed to smile, then turned and left the room once more. She tugged the shawl a little closer about her shoulders, then left the keep and hurried across the courtyard, up the ramparts and to the tower where she’d encountered Donall in a night of restless wandering.
Despite the note, she was surprised to find him already outside, sitting on the wall that surrounded the top of the tower asthe first stars began to make their appearance. She was even more surprised to see a blanket spread across the stones, along with platters, and a gently steaming pitcher of what looked and smelled like a particularly fine mulled wine. “Donall?”
“Lydia.” He stood and came to her side, offering her his arm with a courtly gesture. “Ye received me note.”
“Aye.” Lydia gave him a wry smile, her cheeks heating anew as she met his gaze. “Though I should warn you that Maisie also saw the note… she knows about us now…”
To her surprise and chagrin, Donall snorted. “’Tis nae surprise. Alex an’ Ewan were kind enough tae inform me that doors an’ walls are nae always thick enough tae silence certain activities.”
“Oh.” Lydia felt the heat of her blush sweep across her face and down her throat, creeping across her shoulders as well. “I did not realize.”
“’Tis nay matter.” Donall helped her take a seat, and took the lid off the platters to reveal two plates set with a modest feast, and a basket of fresh bread. He poured them each a goblet full of mulled wine. “Tis why I wanted tae speak tae ye here, though. ‘Tis more private.”
“All right.” Lydia settled herself a little more comfortably. For a moment, the two of them ate in comfortable silence, before Lydia ventured a question. “What did you want to speak to me about?”
“First, I wished tae tell ye tha’ I’ve sent a letter tae yer uncle, Lord Wycliffe.” Lydia felt a flash of betrayal, but before she could say anything, Donall continued. “I’ve informed him that I encountered ye an’ invited ye intae me home, an’ that I’ve been courtin’ ye, an’ asked him tae consider changing his choice o’ alliance from Laird Cameron tae me.”
“Oh.” Lydia swallowed, eyes stinging with unexpected tears, and throat tight with a sudden storm of emotions that swirled through her. ‘You would…?”
“Aye.” Donall nodded. Then he stood and drew her to her feet. “There’s somethin’ else, somethin’ I intend tae tell the Council taemorrow morn, with yer permission.”
“And what is that?” Her heart was pounding.
“That if ye’ll have me, I would tak’eye, Lydia Wycliffe, tae be me wife. I wish tae wed ye.”
Her heart seemed to stop, then trip in her chest. “You… what?”
“I wish tae formally claim ye as me betrothed. An’ me wife. I ken ‘twill be difficult, an’ mayhap there will be fightin’ because o’ this, but ‘tis a choice I’m willin’ tae make. If ye’ll have me.”
He stepped closer, until the heat of his body and the scent of Donall himself enveloped her. His hand cupped her chin, his eyes dark in the moonlight as he tipped her gaze up to meet his. “Will ye have me? Will ye marry me, Lydia Wycliffe?”
It was hard to breathe, but Lydia forced her tongue and throat to form the words she wanted to say, words she’d only dreamed she might get a chance to utter. “Aye. I will.”
Donall’s expression lit up, more brilliant than moonlight. Then he swopped her into his arms, spinning her around in a joyful daze as his voice echoed off the walls and out into the night. “Lydia!”
Lydia found herself laughing and breathless with joy, almost dizzy with it as Donall spun her around and set her on her feet, then claimed her lips in a searing kiss that flashed through her from head to toe like the touch of lightning.
