Chapter Twenty-Five #3
‘As their laird, I’ve always reassured them I dinnae hold them responsible, but to this day they carry the shame and stain of their granddaughter’s actions.
When ye and I visited Aila and Ross on our way to the shielings, I told them I was finally free of the past and that ’twas ye who’d won and now owned my heart. ’
Helene listened in stunned silence, recalling with distinct clarity the moment inside the cottage when conversation between Aila, Ross, and Lachlan had taken a sobering turn and tone.
Although she’d understood not a word of Gaelic, she’d sensed an element of sensitivity around what was being said and had wondered why they’d each cast a furtive glance her way.
‘The truth behind Aila gifting ye her brooch was akin to giving us her blessing. The heirloom was her most prized possession.’
Helene pictured the brooch where she’d left it on the dresser in her bedchamber at Drumocher. Dismayed, she asked, ‘Why did you wait until now to tell me all this?’
‘Ye asked me why I didnae declare my love for ye before ye refused my offer of marriage?
I need ye to understand that all those years ago, I thought I kenned what it was to be in love—except, it wasnae love at all.
It didnae have the depth nor breadth of what I feel for ye.
My heart howls in despair when I think of my life without ye, and I was too goddamned scared to admit it to myself, least of all admit it to ye.
‘If I were to single-handedly fight one hundred men, I’d be fearless, but being honest about my feelings and laying my heart at yer feet, there to be cherished or stomped on, absolutely terrified me. Call me a coward, but there ye have it.’
The sincerity in his eyes, his face, and the pain in his voice cut Helene to the quick. She could relate to and understood the source of that pain, how a single event in one’s past maintained a stranglehold on the present. Rejection. A debilitating emotion, and one associated with loss.
‘Lass, put me out of my misery.’ It was a plea, no less.
‘If ye dinnae love me as I love ye, or if ye dinnae want me as I want ye, then I’ll leave this very minute and return home to Scotland.
If ye say aye to being my wife . . . well then, I swear I’ll spend the rest of my days earning and deserving yer love. ’
Helene saw reflected in his eyes the same hope she’d harboured in them forging a life together.
This man, a battle-hardened Highland warrior, had laid bare his underlying vulnerability in the purest and most honest way.
She had one last question. ‘Had you not been in love with me and scandal broke, would you still have married me as per your oath?’
‘Aye, lass. Honour is my all, and how blessed am I to have fallen in love with the lass whom I’d pledged to safeguard and protect?’
Elation returned, flooding Helene’s heart to the point of bursting. She moved slowly to stand within an inch of him, inhaling a fragrant blend of citrus soap, freshly laundered linen, and a pleasing scent uniquely his.
She stared into the depths of his darkened eyes. ‘I love you, Lachlan MacLanoch, and my answer is aye. I wholeheartedly accept your marriage proposal.’
He stared at her with a mixture of relief and disbelief before cupping her cheeks in his hands and pressing his mouth to hers in a searing kiss. A kiss claiming her as his.
All too soon, he pulled back. It took Helene a few moments to catch her breath, to open her eyes and see his face in clear focus.
‘I will love ye for all time, mo chridhe. This I promise ye.’
‘And I, you.’ She caressed his cheek and smiled up at him. ‘Mo chridhe? You’ve said it often to me. What does it mean?’
‘’Tis a term of endearment—my heart.’
Helene eyed him in wonder. ‘All this time, and I never knew.’
Lachlan took Helene’s chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. ‘I’ve spoken many an endearing word to ye in Gaelic. Ye just ne’er kenned what I’d said.’
‘In that case, you must teach me.’
‘Aye, that I will.’ He brushed his lips over hers. ‘Yer father wishes to see ye wed here in London, before we return to Scotland.’
Helene nodded. ‘Prudence made me agree not to see out the customary mourning period, so the wedding shall be an expedient and small affair. Just you, me, my father and brother.’
‘Then tomorrow, I’ll obtain a special marriage licence.
As soon as we are wed, we can be on our way.
We’ll travel home in comfort, by coach, and under escort this time, and we’ll overnight in the most comfortable inns.
I’ll not have my newly wedded wife dressed as a man and travelling on horseback. ’
Helene let out a laugh. ‘My backside is still recovering from that ordeal.’ She laid her cheek against Lachlan’s chest. ‘I should like to have a second wedding at Drumocher, and in keeping with your Scottish traditions.’
Lachlan chuckled over her head. ‘It will be nae small affair. I can tell ye that!’
It pleased Helene to know they’d arrive back in Scotland before summer’s end, and before Agnes and her family returned home to London. She tipped her face up to meet Lachlan’s eyes. ‘At our wedding, I want to be draped in the cloth of your clan.’
His broad smile showed how much this pleased him.
Helene found her home in Lachlan’s tight embrace, in the warmth of his mouth pressed to hers, and in his kiss. A kiss as fiercely possessive as it was achingly tender.