Page 96 of Never Tempt a Scot
“That first night I carried you away in my arms. I couldna hate you, even when I thought you were your sister. You enchanted me, lass. And in time, you showed me I wasna a broken man.”
Brodie squeezed her hands, and she saw the adoration in his eyes.
“So long as you love me, lass, I will fight the world to keep you.”
Lydia squeezed Brodie’s hands back. “Yes.”
“Yes?” His eyes gleamed with excitement as she nodded again. “Then dance with me.”
Brodie swept her onto the floor, and they danced throughout the evening. The master of ceremonies had to turn a blind eye to the succession of dances after Jane frowned at him quite sternly.
Word of Lydia’s secret engagement to Brodie took Bath by storm that night, but Lydia didn’t care at all. The only thing that mattered was that she was dancing with the man she loved, and they would go on dancing together the rest of their lives.
Epilogue
AScottish wedding was always a magical event. Lydia entered the old stone kirk on Castle Kincade lands. She clung to her father’s arm as he walked her to Brodie, who stood proudly at the altar, his plaid kilt showing off his legs in a way that made her blush. Her father paused at the front of the church with her, and the two men shared a look of understanding before Brodie nodded at him.
Her father kissed Lydia’s cheek, and she blinked away tears as she joined Brodie before the altar. The ceremony was a blur of smiles and happy tears for Lydia as she spoke her wedding vows. She only had eyes for Brodie.
When it was over, they gathered in the kirkyard with their friends. In that moment, Lydia felt as though she could ask for nothing more of the world. She had a family who loved her and a Scottish rogue who worshipped her. It was as though every dream she had buried in her heart had been brought back out into the light.
Brodie curled an arm around her waist and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Happy, my love?”
She gave him a smile that could barely contain her bursting happiness. “I don’t think it’s possible to measure my happiness,” she confessed.
Brodie turned her fully to face him as he cupped her face, his eyes searching hers. “My love for you rivals the depths of the seas and extends beyond the stars themselves.”
It never ceased to amaze her how much he had changed in the weeks leading up to their wedding. He’d become a happier man, a true romantic, and yet he was still that same wicked rakehell in their stolen moments together. The ghosts that haunted him from his past were starting to fade, leaving behind a man who enjoyed life.
Lydia curled her fingers into his cravat and pulled his head down to hers to steal a kiss.
“Dance with me tonight?” he asked.
“Where?” Lydia giggled.
“Anywhere.” His eyes smoldered as he added, “How about our bedchamber? I would love to see you dance like I did that night in the inn, for me and me alone.”
Lydia grinned. “Will it tempt you, my darling Scot?”
“Aye.Always.”
Rafe watchedBrodie and Lydia whisper to each other in the kirkyard. He wasn’t one to applaud marriage as a rule, but in Brodie’s case, the man sorely needed it.
“Papa?” Isla’s voice broke into his thoughts. Isla stood next to him, wearing a pale-blue satin gown with an orange sash tied into a bow at her back. Her hair was only partially pulled back by ribbons. She’d been overjoyed to attend the wedding in the fine new clothes that he’d purchased for her.
He took her small hand in his. “Yes, kitten?”
“Can I truly call you Papa?” Isla asked. It was perhaps the tenth time this week she’d asked that same question.
Rafe had spoken to Lydia and Brodie two weeks before and had asked them if he might take the child as his ward. It had surprised them, and they had raised concerns about why a single gentleman who’d never been married would want to raise a little girl. He had replied that he had plenty of interfering relations who would no doubt be more than happy to help him do the thing properly. They ultimately agreed, so long as Isla wished for it too. And she had.
“Yes, Isla, you may call me Papa. Or Uncle Rafe. Whatever you prefer.”
Isla swung his hand back and forth in hers as she seemed to think it over. “I want you to be my papa, but I already have one.”
Rafe turned and knelt before the little girl. “You may have another papa. Just as Lydia now has a new mama. You will always have your first papa and mama.” His inexplicable connection to the child was soul deep, and he had a strange feeling that Isla’s parents, wherever they were, were watching over him. He didn’t want to let them or Isla down. For the first time in his life, someone depended on him. It was unsettling, but also exciting.
“Oh, Rafe, there you are.” Ashton and Rosalind joined them in the kirkyard. Rosalind took Isla by the hand and led her away to admire the wildflowers growing at the edges of the yard.
