Page 83 of Highland Sword
He approached and moved a chair close to her. Too near and too tempting, she thought. If she leaned toward him even a little, their lips could touch.
“May I escort you during the promenade?”
She’d heard about the torchlit parade through the castle and the village on the eve of the new year. It was a coming together of the entire community, complete with pipers and fiddles, dancing and singing.
“You may. But I have to warn you, I’m a terrible singer.”
“Not a singer? That surprises me.” He cleared his voice. “Well, I’ll try to make up for you.”
She laughed. “You think yourself a fine singer?”
He nodded with fake humility and then smiled. “To be honest, what I lack in talent, I make up for with confidence.”
A good reminder. The conversation she had with Fiona and Maisie came back to her. Talent. Did she have any at all? And what would a good dose of confidence add?
“Making a good show of it is half the battle in everything, is it not?” he continued. “Literature. The arts. Argument. Courtship.”
Courtship?Is that what was happening? Morrigan watched him as he reached into his coat.
“I brought you a gift.”
She touched the handle of her sgian dubh at her ankle, teasing him. “It’s not my dagger or my shoes, so it must be that you brought me another flyer from Inverness. Or is it the book you promised?”
“The book can wait. This is a proper gift.”
She stared at the small pouch made of green velvet in his hand. A red ribbon was tied neatly around it.
“Open it.” He placed it in her hand.
Morrigan felt her cheeks catch fire. With unsteady fingers she untied the ribbon and emptied it into her hand. The most beautiful necklace lay in her palm. A gold chain with a pendant that was fashioned like a miniature sword. The hilt was decorated with a turquoise stone.
“Oh my! It’s… it’s stunning.” She was too flustered to say anything more. No one had ever given her a gift so elegant and meaningful. “A dagger. So appropriate.”
She started to put it around her neck.
“May I?”
Morrigan nodded, and he rose to his feet. He moved behind her and took the necklace. She held her hair to the side, and a thrill raced through her as his fingers brushed against her neck. He fastened the chain and sat in his chair again, eyeing her appreciatively.
“Beautiful.”
She touched the treasure and looked into his eyes. She loved him. How she loved him. The words wanted to spill out into the open, but she couldn’t allow it. Meeting Aidan Grant was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her, but she wouldn’t ruin his future. She would not allow her feelings to take her to a place where hope led only to heartache.
Morrigan tried to think of something lighthearted to say. “If I knew we were exchanging gifts, I could have done some embroidery or drawn a portrait or written a poem in praise of your virtues. None of which I have any talent in, but I would have done them withconfidence. And besides, it’s the gesture that matters. True?”
He smiled. “I promise to give you the opportunity of doing all those things for me and more.”
Morrigan watched him reach into his coat again, and this time he withdrew a small box. Her heart began to beat so fast that she feared it might burst out of her chest and fly away like a bird.
“Dear Miss Drummond, I thought only of you while I was gone.” He moved to the edge of the chair and dropped to one knee. “I’m hoping that you would do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
For a moment, Morrigan sat in stunned silence. She couldn’t breathe. But the past snaked through the air like a whip and lashed at her. She tore her hand out of his grasp and jumped to her feet, edging away from him.
“I can’t.” Tears splashed down her cheeks. “I am sorry, Mr. Grant. I’m truly sorry, but Ican’tbe your wife.”
Morrigan turned and ran for the door.
“Wait. You can’t? That’s all?” he called after her. “Nothing more to say?”
