Page 127 of A Rogue in Firelight
Then a tender kiss, Ronan’s lips upon hers, his hands at her waist. Kisses were not the usual at weddings, she knew but this little wedding felt different, truly so. Tears slid down her cheeks as she smiled up at him, feeling the devotion in her heart, seeing its match in his eyes.
“It is done, love,” Ronan whispered.
Within the half-hour, mounted on horses from the Invermorie stable, she cantered beside her husband toward what lay ahead.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Oh my heavens,Ellison, we heard a rumor at the dance last night. But we shall get to that,” Lady Strathniven said, seated on the carriage’s leather bench opposite Ellison and Sorcha. “Tell us more about what happened last night. We were in such a rush to depart this morning that I hardly took it in.”
“Just an unfortunate incident on the road,” Ellison said, as the barouche rumbled through the glen. “Pitlinnie’s carriage—had a problem. Luckily Darrach came by and took me to Invermorie, as it was close,” she added. “Mairi Brodie and Sir Ludo kindly took us in for the night. We had a lovely breakfast with them this morning.”
She blushed fiercely and hoped they would not notice. Very soon she would confide in them about her marriage. She thought of her parting with Ronan that morning when he left to meet Hugh Cameron and arrange for the shipment of the whisky to Edinburgh, and smiled to herself at the memory.
“I will see you in Edinburgh,” he had murmured only two hours ago, standing with her in Strathniven’s foyer. “As soon as possible.”
“Do that, Darrach,” she had said, tapping his chest. “You can find me at my father’s house.” As she rose on her toes to kiss him, he had pulled her into his arms for a stirring kiss that melted through her, head to toe.
“Wife,” he had growled, “we need to be alone together very soon.”
“Aye, but I cannot spend my wedding night in my father’s house.”
“Hugh Cameron secured me a place. I will take you there.”
“Wonderful,” she had whispered, pressing close.
Then she had entered a whirlwind of packing and hurrying about. Lady Strathniven had insisted that they travel that very morning, and had orchestrated a caravan of two carriages, the ladies in one, and her maid Jeannie and another servant maid riding in the other with trunks and bags. To Ellison’s great relief, Adam Corbie had already left in something of a hurry, as Sorcha had reported.
“Oh, these awful roads!” the viscountess said now. “I order repairs on my lands, but other landholders must do the same to keep the old glen roads in good condition. The Crown is only interested in their military roads, straight as arrows through the hills and not very picturesque. Scottish peers must be the custodians of the Highland legacy.”
“I agree,” Ellison said, petting Balor, who slept in her lap. She stroked his head and shoulders and watched the road and hills fly past. Wondering where Ronan was now, she hoped he would not cross paths with Corbie at any point.
“Oh dear, it is raining again,” Sorcha said, looking out the window.
“Mr. MacNie expects to keep a good pace so we can reach the ferry over the firth on time,” Lady Strathniven said. “We will also have to stop for tea along the way. Even with so many carriages on the roads heading for Edinburgh, MacNie thinks we will reach the city by this evening.”
“It is so exciting,” Sorcha said. “They said at the dance last night that the king’s ship is already anchored offshore at Leith, but must stay beyond the rough waters until the storms pass and they have clear sailing into the harbor.”
“The Duke of Atholl himself said that the storms have been simply awful in Edinburgh all summer.” The viscountess looked at Ellison. “Was Darrach able to arrange for Glenbrae whisky to be delivered to Holyroodhouse for the king’s visit?”
“He is arranging that this morning. He and Mr. Cameron will travel by steam packet with the shipment so that they can be sure the whisky arrives safely in Leith, where it can be taken into the city.”
“Excellent!” Lady Strathniven smiled. “This will be a great feather in Darrach’s cap now that his inheritance is confirmed. He is such a good man, and such a good friend. We are fortunate this has turned out so well. Do you not agree, Ellison?”
The hot blush rose again, and she twined her gloved hands nervously. “Very fortunate, my lady. And—well, Darrach and I have some news.” In her lap, Balor lifted his head to look at her, tipping his head quizzically, even as Sorcha and Lady Strathniven raised their eyebrows in quick interest.
“Good news?” The lady’s eyes sparkled. “Does it have to do with a certain rumor that we heard last night?”
“We did hear a rumor!” Sorcha beamed. “Tell us!”
Her smile was tremulous. Tugging at her gloves, she deliberately stilled her hands. Be calm, she told herself.
“Lord Darrach and I were married this morning.”
Silence for a moment. Balor gave a little yelp, as if he understood. Lady Strathniven gasped and set a hand to her bosom, and Sorcha squealed in delight.
“Oh, my dear girl, married! I did not expect that!” Lady Strathniven leaned forward to take Ellison’s hand. “And to such a lovely gentleman!”
“Thank you. I was not sure how you would feel about it.” She gave a shy smile.
