Chapter Five #3
He closed his fingers around the favor, clutching the bit of linen and lace as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
“Ye have made my day better as well, lass.” With a slight tip of his head in his brother’s direction, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
“But dinna tell Malcolm, aye? I’ll never hear the end of it. ”
“Agreed.”
Offering his arm, he squared his shoulders as if preparing for battle. “I suppose we should rejoin the others now?”
She wished they could stay in the quiet corner and keep to themselves, but she knew that just wouldn’t do. She took his arm and fell in step beside him. “As Shakespeare would say, ‘Once more into the breach, dear friends, once more.’”
“Indeed.”
She gave his arm a reassuring pat as they strolled along. Was that a hint of a smile? She so hoped it was. There was just something about the overly somber man at her side that cried out for help to be happy. And she would provide that help because he needed it. He needed her.
*
It was no wonder Merry believed in love. She was fair drowning in it with this family of hers. Duncan stood at the edge of the room, savoring a fortifying glass of port, as the sisters laughed and teased each other, as if they were still carefree children.
“We can be a bit overwhelming,” their brother, the duke, said as he joined him, then he chuckled. “But I cannot imagine us any other way.”
“Ye are verra blessed, Yer Grace.” The man had no idea how blessed he was. Duncan envied him.
“Thank you again.” All amusement left Broadmere, leaving him somber and looking years older. “Jasper told me about the accident in great detail. My sisters would have died had you and your brother not stopped and rendered aid.”
Uncomfortable and awkward with gratitude or praise, Duncan accepted the kindness with a stiff nod. “There was naught else to be done but stop and give aid, Yer Grace. To do otherwise would have been heartless.”
“There are many heartless men in this world,” the duke said as he kept his gaze on his sisters. Then he faced Duncan with a sly grin. “But Merry has deemed you worthy enough. Not many pass her scrutiny. Congratulations.”
Duncan snorted. “I canna understand why she would consider me so. Most think me a growly Scot who wishes to be left alone.”
“Are you a growly Scot?” Broadmere’s grin stretched into a knowing smile.
“I have been known to growl when it is warranted.”
“Good.” The duke lifted his glass as if toasting the sentiment. “My sister needs a protector. Merry tends to rush in without thinking at times.”
“I have noticed that about her.”
The duke eyed him, staring so long it bordered on rudeness. “If Merry has chosen you, you have my blessing. But know this—if you ever hurt her, I will hunt you down and kill you.”
That oath made Duncan respect the man even more. “I would expect nothing less, Yer Grace.”
One of the sisters whose name Duncan couldn’t possibly remember hurried over. “Come along, you two. Time for dancing blind man’s bluff. We already have Merry blindfolded, and she doesn’t get her birthday surprise unless she gets everyone right.”
“That is a lie, Blessing,” Broadmere said. “We always give the birthday girl their surprise.”
“Hush.” Blessing grabbed him by the arm and pulled. “You always get your surprise, too.”
“Yes, usually frogs or eels in my bed.”
“The wee lass is already cheating.” Duncan pointed his glass at Merry, where she stood peeking out from under her blindfold.
Blessing stamped her foot. “Merry! No cheating!”
Merry bubbled with laughter, quite proud of herself.
Serendipity turned her toward the hallway and retied her blindfold.
Heaven help me. Duncan swallowed hard. Precious Merry was the fairest balm his broken soul could ever ask for, but what in heaven’s name could he offer her?
Then her brother’s words came to mind: protection. Aye, he would protect her with his life. He had decided that back at the coach inn, while she slept curled like a wee kitten on that bench. He would keep her safe as long as she allowed him to do so.
With her finger pressed to her lips to shush him, Blessing waved him forward, then pointed at Merry as Serendipity struck the first notes of a waltz on the pianoforte. But before he could join her on the dance floor, Malcolm, damn his eyes, stepped in and swept Merry into the dance.
She laughed as she spun across the floor, as light as a butterfly flitting from flower to flower.
I will kill him if he holds her any closer. Duncan clenched his teeth, his jaws aching.
Then the music stopped, and Serendipity called out, “Who is your partner, Merry?”
Merry patted Malcolm’s chest, then touched his face. “Lord Malcolm! Even blindfolded, I would know that smile.”
Malcolm had the audacity to laugh and kiss Merry’s hand.
Jealousy consumed Duncan. He hated this feckin’ game.
Everyone clapped, then Merry’s blindfold was put back on, and Serendipity played the pianoforte again.
This time, one of the brothers-in-law—gads alive, he needed to do better when it came to remembering names—danced with Merry, but she didn’t correctly guess his identity because the wily man switched jackets with one of the other brothers-in-law, and she thought it was him instead.
She briefly pouted about their trickery, then put her blindfold back in place. “If I guess the next one correctly, I get my surprise. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Serendipity said. “You are the birthday girl.”
As soon as the music started, Duncan stepped forward. By damn, it was his turn to dance with the lovely lady.
Once her hand was in his, her smile widened. Then she leaned in and sniffed like a wee dog gathering the scent. “I know you,” she said soft and low, barely moving her mouth so the others couldn’t see. “I would know you anywhere, my champion.”
He gritted his teeth to keep from speaking and giving away the game, but he couldn’t resist gathering her closer, breathing her in, and reveling in the perfect way they moved together. When the music ended, it took him a moment to realize it was over and stop their dance.
Merry placed her hands on his chest and slowly slid them upward, touching his throat, then his jaw, then lightly patting her fingertips across his face. “Duncan,” she whispered. “I would know you anywhere, my champion.”
Unable to restrain his boldness, he leaned forward and brushed a kiss to her cheek. “Happy birthday, my lovely lass,” he said just as softly. “May only good things come to ye as long as ye live.”
Her cheeks rosy with a most becoming blush, she whipped off her blindfold. “I knew it was Duncan,” she announced to the room at large, but her sapphire eyes sparkled with more than just mirth; they shone with something that drew him in and filled his heart with hope.
“Now ye may collect yer treasure, lass.”
“I already have my treasure,” she whispered before her sisters and brother gathered around them. “It is you.” Then she turned to her siblings and clapped her hands. “And my surprise is…?”
Serendipity lifted the lid to the pianoforte bench and drew out a small box tied with a bright red ribbon. “It was the only place we knew to hide it, since you avoid the pianoforte like the plague.”
Laughing, Merry opened the box, then gasped, her eyes misting with tears. “It’s just like Mama’s.” She drew out a golden oval locket engraved with an M, dangling from a delicate gold chain.
Before one of the others could help her, Duncan stepped forward. “Allow me to place it on ye, lass.”
Without hesitation, she turned her back to him and waited.
He almost groaned as the backs of his fingers brushed across the velvet of her nape.
It took every ounce of restraint he possessed to keep from leaning forward and kissing a trail along her neck after he fastened the necklace.
“There ye are, lass,” he said, then turned aside and coughed to clear his voice of its raspy neediness.
By his soul, he ached to possess this woman and never let her go.
She faced him, staring up into his eyes, and saying so much without speaking a word. His poor, battered heart soared.
“Thank you, Duncan,” she whispered before turning to face her siblings. “Thank you all for this lovely surprise. You knew I always wanted one like Mama’s.”
“That is why we are the best brothers and sisters you could ever hope to have,” Broadmere said, then lifted his glass. “To your happiness, sister.” Then his focus slid to Duncan. “To your every happiness.”
“Aye, to her every happiness.” Duncan accepted a glass of champagne from the servant bearing the tray. He lifted his glass as well. “From now till time is no more.”