Page 91 of Waiting for a Scot Like You
But he wasn’t here. It was up to her to save herself.
A third explosion echoed, and she realized two things:
The sound was coming fromoutsidethe house.
The sky was full of light and color.
She ran to the window and let out a shaky laugh when she saw fireworks burst. That’s all it was: a pyrotechnic display. A modest one compared to Vauxhall, but here in the country, it was dazzling, a kaleidoscope breaking apart in the dark of night.
This had to be part of Lord Gibb’s entertainment for the gala. Yet... he’d made no mention of fireworks earlier. And why would he have them go off at this hour, when it was certain that all of the guests were occupied with other matters?
There was one other person she knew whohad training in explosives. He’d said so, early on in their journey.
She rushed out of her room and down the stairs. She paid no attention to the guests hastily throwing on robes and loose clothing and exclaiming to each other, but when she found Lord Gibb in his banyan she demanded, “Did you arrange for fireworks?”
Looking sweaty and utterly baffled, he shook his head. “I didn’t. I don’t know who could—”
“I know who.”
She dashed past him, and as the pyrotechnics continued, she hurried through the back drawing roomto stand on the wide terrace. Colorful light painted the scene as more guests gathered here, some wearing blankets over their shoulders, and a couple who were completely nude. Everyone had their gazes trained skyward, watching the fireworks overhead.
But she wasn’t looking at the sky. She searched the crowd for one man.
“Duncan,” she called above the din. “Duncan!”
“Beatrice!” a familiar voice bellowed.
He emerged from the throng, his gaze fixed solely on her. Her heart clenched. Dimly, she took in the travel-worn condition of his garments and the beard that now covered his cheeks and jaw. Hues of red and gold from the fireworks bathed him, turning him into a mythical warrior. Yet all that she truly saw was the look of need in his eyes. Need for her.
They ran toward each other, then collided. His arms wrapped around her, holding her so close she felt his heart thud beneath her cheek.
“You came back,” she whispered, clutching him tightly.
Somehow he managed to hear her above the explosions. His gaze was blistering, and his voice was rough. “Of course I did. I love you.”
Certainly she would shoot upward into the heavens, like one of his fireworks, and explode with happiness. In the whole of her existence, the only people who had ever uttered those words to her were her children. Thiswas the first time an adult had ever told her that they loved her—and it was all she wanted.
“I love you, Duncan,” she said, words ragged. “I’ve waited my entire life to love you.”
He cupped her face, tilting her to fit his mouth to hers. The kiss he gave her was ferocious, deep. Claiming and tender at the same time. She felt his love in every part of her, filling her up so that she knew only what it meant to be with this extraordinary man. And she poured her own feelings into her kiss, telling him with her lips that she would always be his, just as he was hers.
“How’d you manage this?” she gasped when they came up for air. “The fireworks.”
“Rowe and Curtis helped me borrow some necessary supplies.”
“Borroworsteal?”
A corner of his mouth tilted upward. “I did leave a promissory note saying I’d pay them back for the saltpeter and other bits.”
“Ever the upstanding officer,” she murmured, adoring him for being exactly who he was.
“Lady Farris,” a male guest said in surprise. “It seems the fireworks have drawn you out of your chamber at last.”
“They did.” But she didn’t look at him, only Duncan.
Duncan gazed back at her, his brows high on his forehead. “You didn’t join in.”
She shook her head, feeling oddly shy. “The onlyone I want is you. But,” she went on sadly, “nothing has changed. I can’t marry you.”
