Page 85 of The Highlander's Auctioned Bride
Maisie softened as he rested his head against her hair, a long sigh bursting from his lungs as he gripped her so tightly.
“I wouldnae e’er ask ye to choose between us,” she said urgently, pulling away a little and looking up at him. “Duty will always be yer purpose, and I will always be at yer side.”
His intense gaze locked with hers, and she forced herself not to look away from the weight of it.
“I love ye, Maisie Brown,” he said, making her heart flutter in her chest. “And I am nae lettin’ ye leave me. Nae ever again.”
“So ye dinnae wish us to live separate lives?” she asked, putting her arms around his waist and holding him just as tightly to her.
He snorted. “Nae, I may just dae as I threatened and tie ye to me bed. That way I can always ken where ye are. Me beautiful wife.”
She shuddered. “I love ye too,” she said simply, and he kissed her once more, his fingers tightening on her back. “I love every part of ye, even my stubborn laird.”
He frowned. “Dae ye nae think I would make a good fisherman then, lass?”
She laughed. “I am sure ye would be good at anythin’ ye set yer mind to, me laird.”
He grinned that impossible grin that lit up his whole countenance, and she smiled up at him happily.
“I am glad ye have such faith in me, wife, as I plan to be a marvelous husband to ye from now on.”
She giggled as he claimed her mouth with his own again kissing her passionately as they held one another, reveling in the knowledge that they were together again and that nothing could pull them apart.
EPILOGUE
One Year Later…
“Me, m’laird?”Marcus was looking at James as though he were utterly mad.
“Aye. That’s what I said, is it nae?”
Marcus and Nathaniel exchanged concerned looks, and James glanced irritably at Harris, who was smirking at the side of the room, watching him.
“What exactly is the problem?”
“It is just—” Nathaniel attempted, “ye have never asked a member of the council to arrange the archery tournament, m’. Ye have always done it yerself.”
“In detail,” Marcus added, “ye never want our help.”
James scowled as he handed the papers about the tournament arrangements to Marcus. He tried to tamp down the irritation he was feeling at himself.
Have I really kept so much of the lairdship to meself? I dinnae ken how I managed to do it all.
Well, he had a fair idea—he hadn’t had a wife before, and now all the time he spent away from her was torture.
“I am givin’ ye the honor of organisin’ the tournament, Marcus. Dinnae let me down.”
James saw the man’s eyes widen. It was a big task and a testament to how much they had both learned to trust one another after the incidents the year before.
It had taken a long while for James to truly believe Marcus had no knowledge of what Lillian and Bram had been up to.
James knew privately that Mrs. Guthrie had been the most shocked of them all. The poor woman had had no clue what Bram had been doing to her niece behind her back.
He had been conducting an affair with her for years, quietly teaching her how to become the perfect lady of the house in order to eventually get rid of James and lead the clan as head of the council.
In the intervening months, it was Maisie who had taught James a great deal about forgiveness. Maisie was adamant that Lillian was a victim in all of it. She had told him in no uncertain terms that he should not look upon her as complicit.
“Such a young girl could ne’er have understood what Bram was truly tryin’ to dae. She was manipulated by him, just as we all were, and ye would dae well to remember that.”
