His Convenient Highland Wedding

by Janice Preston

  She could see Anna’s struggle in her eyes.

  ‘It will take a while to set everything in place,’ Flora continued. ‘But I would be more confident if I knew I could rely on you.’

  ‘Verra well. I’ll do it.’

  ‘Thank you!’ Tension seeped from her shoulders and neck. Her plan was coming together. ‘Lachlan will be thrilled. I must go. Do you think Davy is awake yet? I’d love to see him before I go.’

  ‘I’ll go and fetch him.’

  Within minutes, Anna reappeared at the sitting room door carrying a tousled Davy, rubbing at his eyes. As soon as he saw Flora, however, he wriggled out of Anna’s arms.

  ‘Bandit? Where’s Bandit?’

  ‘He’s at home, Davy,’ said Flora. ‘He wouldn’t like the city. He’s not used to it.’

  The little boy pouted. ‘Want Bandit.’

  ‘He never stops pestering me for a dog,’ said Anna.

  Flora’s thoughts flew to Sal and her litter. ‘Would you allow him to have one?’

  ‘Aye, I intend to get him one. Your Bandit did him more good to start him talking again than any of our efforts.’

  ‘Well, in that case, why don’t you bring him to the castle for Hogmanay to visit Bandit? That was the favour I meant to ask—it’s important for families to be together to see in the New Year.’ She would write to Donald and ask him to bring one of Sal’s pups with him for Davy. ‘My aunt and uncle, Tessa and William, are coming, plus my parents, brother and two sisters. Please say you’ll come, Anna. It wouldn’t be the same without you and Davy.’ And she genuinely meant it. Their family would not be complete without Anna and Davy. ‘But it is to be a surprise for Lachlan so don’t say anything to him, will you?

  ‘And my aunt, Tessa, said you could travel to Lochmore with them if you like. Although, I should warn you—my father hasn’t spoken to his sister for years, so sparks might fly when he finds out she is there.’

  ‘Ah, well now...’ Anna grinned ‘...we’re used to sparks flying between brother and sister, are we not, Flora?’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Noon, New Year’s Eve

  The message from Gregor couldn’t have come at a worse time.

  Since Anna and Davy had left Lochmore, Lachlan had worked hard to conceal his dejection from Flora. He knew, with his head, that he must look forward to the future. But his heart wasn’t quite ready to let go of his dream of having his family around him.

  He had promised Flora that they would spend this last day of the old year together and that business would not intrude, but they had no sooner returned from a bracing walk on the beach and settled by the fire than a messenger from the distillery rode up to the castle with a note to say Gregor needed Lachlan urgently.

  Lachlan hesitated. He longed to reply to Gregor that he must deal with the problem himself. Flora came to him and put her hands in his.

  ‘You must go.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Go. You know you won’t rest if you don’t find out what is wrong. And I shall insist on your undivided attention later.’

  She smiled a mischievous smile and tiptoed up to press soft lips to his cheek. His heart tumbled in his chest. He was so lucky—a beautiful wife, a lovely home, business going well. Anna had even agreed to help them manage their charity, meaning Lachlan got to see more of her. He still missed having her and Davy here, though, and seeing them every day. If only they had stayed, life would be perfect indeed.

  He wrapped his arms around Flora’s waist and kissed her lips. Thoroughly. Her scent calmed him and excited him at the same time and he again blessed his good fortune and yet...and yet...still there lingered that fear that it was all too good for him. That Flora would, one day, reject him and leave, just as Anna had.

  His eyes roamed her beautiful face as she smiled up at him. She was kind and honest and fun...but did she love him? She had never said so and he longed to hear those words on her lips. Her gaze slipped sideways, then she jerked out of his embrace. His breath hitched in alarm.

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake. Get down, Bandit!’

  He followed the direction of Flora’s exasperated stare, then burst out laughing when he saw the cause of her distraction. How stupid for panic to steal his breath, even for a split second.

  Bandit was on his hind legs, nosing at the wrapped sweet treats that still hung suspended by colourful ribbons from the branches of their Christmas tree. Lachlan had never heard of such a thing as a Christmas tree before, but Flora had assured him it was a tradition that Prince Albert had brought to Britain from his homeland of Germany and that the practice was increasingly popular. They cut a young fir from the steep slope at the side of Loch Arris and decorated it together on Christmas Eve with ribbons, candles and those sweet treats, wrapped in silver and gold paper, and Flora had insisted all their decorations—including the swags of fir, dressed with berries, ribbons and candles, that adorned the downstairs rooms—should remain in place until Twelfth Night.

  But Hogmanay was the main celebration in Scotland. A traditional Scottish feast of haggis, neeps and tatties was already being prepared and custom said that whatever you did at midnight as the New Year began, you would continue to do throughout the year. And Lachlan could think of nothing he would rather do than hold his wife in his arms and kiss her senseless.

  ‘Go, my darling. That message sounded urgent.’

  * * *

  It was something and nothing, he thought as he rode home three hours later. Why Gregor couldn’t have managed the repair himself he didn’t know, but together they had fixed the valve and then Lachlan rode the eight miles home again. The first flakes of snow fluttered down when he was but a mile from the castle and he urged Copper, his chestnut gelding, into a trot. His mood lifted. This was his first New Year with Flora and, although it would be quiet, at least it would be better than last year when the celebration had passed Lachlan by without him even noticing.

  He dismounted at the stable yard and handed Copper over to a groom before crossing the inner bailey to the castle. The front door opened and Drummond said, ‘You’re home just in time, sir.’ He nodded skywards. ‘It looks like it means business, no?’

  ‘It does indeed.’ Lachlan stripped off his greatcoat, hat and gloves and handed them to his butler. ‘Where is Lady Flora?’

  ‘In the drawing room, sir.’

  He strode across the hall, pushed open the drawing room door, walked in and stopped dead.

  ‘Uncle Lachy!’ A small solid body cannoned into his knees and he instinctively scooped Davy into his arms.

  Davy wriggled impatiently. ‘Come see!’

  Lachlan could barely believe his eyes. The drawing room was ablaze with light and colour and full, so it seemed, of people. His gaze sought Flora. She approached him slowly, her hands outstretched and with a loving smile.

  ‘Our family have come to celebrate Hogmanay with us, Lachlan.’

  He swept the room again, identifying the faces. Anna, of course, as Davy was here—a glass of wine in hand and looking more relaxed than he had seen her since their reunion—sitting with Flora’s mother; Tessa and her brother, Lord Aberwyld, standing close together, his arm around her; William, standing slightly apart from the rest as he watched Tessa and her brother; Donald, Aileen and Mairi, sitting in a circle on the floor over by the window with Bandit and—

  ‘Come see!’

  He winced at that shout, so close to his ear. With an extra-determined wiggle, Davy squirmed free of Lachlan, grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the brown and white puppy that was the centre of attention.

  ‘Patch! He’s mine!’ Davy stooped to grab the puppy, but Donald stopped him.

  ‘Gentle now, laddie. He’s much smaller than you. You’ll hurt him. Here, hold him like this.’

  Lachlan, still speechless, looked at Flora.

  ‘I hope you approve, my darling.
We are having a proper family celebration for Hogmanay...the first of many, I hope.’

  Her face glowed with joy and that made him happy. All he wanted, he realised, was for her to be happy. All the time. It had crept up on him almost without him noticing—her happiness was more important to him than anything. Anything.

  The unfamiliar sensation started way down inside, in his stomach. Swirling, tightening, swelling, as though something was trying to battle its way up and out through his strangely painful throat. His vision wavered—Flora’s dear face blurred and his eyes and nose stung and burned. His chest heaved and he only just managed to stop the sob from erupting. To hide his reaction—his emotion—he grabbed Flora and hugged her to him, bending his neck to nuzzle her hair that smelled of orange blossom.

  ‘Thank you.’ He put his lips to her ear. These words were for her alone. ‘I love you, my sweet, darling wife.’ His voice cracked, but he felt a sense of peace he had finally spoken his true feelings aloud.

  Flora wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him hard before leaning back and lifting his chin with her fingers.

  ‘Lachlan? Are you...?’

  He put his mouth to her ear again. ‘Happy tears.’ He finally understood. ‘They are happy tears.’

  * * *

  After all the frantic preparations for so many visitors—and the need to keep it all secret from Lachlan—Flora felt she could finally breathe easily as she climbed the stairs to rest a short while before dressing for dinner. Their family was all here and, amazingly enough, in harmony. After Muriel helped her disrobe she stripped off her chemise and donned her cream-silk dressing robe before going to Lachlan’s bedchamber, where he was in his shirt sleeves. When he saw her, he dismissed Murray.

  ‘Why are you not resting, sweetheart? Are you not tired?’

  She went to him and folded herself against his warm body.

  ‘Did you like your surprise, Lachlan?’

  He smiled as he loosened the belt of her robe and slid his hands inside. Shivers erupted in the wake of his touch. As he pulled her closer she could feel his desire for her as his erection pressed against the soft roundness of her belly.

  ‘I did.’ He nuzzled her hair. ‘It was a lovely gift to make this celebration very special. It is a long time since I felt part of a large family and I like that feeling.’

  He lowered his head, but she raised her hands higher, framing his face, stopping him from kissing her. He gave a puzzled smile.

  ‘I have another gift for you.’

  He grinned wolfishly and flexed his hips. ‘I know.’

  She held him in place, resisting that near-overwhelming urge to feel him inside her. Their gazes fused, heat swirling in the dark depths of his. She would never grow tired of his lovemaking and the pleasure he brought her.

  ‘Not that. This. I love you, Lachlan, my husband. I love you with all of my heart and soul.’

  His eyes sheened. He sighed, smiled and then he seized her lips. They saw out the old year and she knew that, after midnight, they would see in the new.

  Epilogue

  Midsummer’s Day, 1849—Lochmore Castle

  Flora watched with pride as crowds flocked along the path to the clifftop meadow for the Carnmore Games—the first of a long tradition, she and Lachlan hoped. They had wanted to establish an annual event at Lochmore and Joane and Benneit—who had returned from his travels in January as planned—had told them of the Solstice Ball his father had thrown at Lochmore Castle every year. Lachlan and Flora, however, thought a ball was too exclusive. They wanted a gathering where everyone, whatever their class, could come to Lochmore and have a day of fun.

  Flora had suggested a gathering for the local area and for all the people who worked for them. There would be food and drink, music and dancing, plus competitions based on the old clan games held in the past to pick the strongest and fastest clan members to act as bodyguards and couriers for the chieftains. The contests would include running races and tug o’ war plus some of the traditional heavy events: the caber toss, using the trunk of a straight pine tree; the stone put, throwing smooth round stones, sourced from a river bed; and the weight throw, using a lead weight with a handle attached by a short chain. As the bagpipes wailed—stirring her blood as they always did—and she saw the happy crowds, many of the men in traditional Highland dress, their women with plaid shawls or dresses, a huge bubble of contentment swelled inside her and her eyes teared up.

  She dashed the moisture away with an embarrassed smile—she was strangely tearful lately.

  Happy tears.

  This year had been the happiest of her life so far and there was greater joy to come.

  The past week had been hectic with all the preparations, but it had been worth it. Tents and stalls selling all manner of refreshments, treats and trinkets ringed the meadow and in the centre was a space where the competitions would take place. Lachlan had arranged transport for his distillery workers to attend and had also chartered a steamer to bring friends and family, together with the women who were already benefitting from the McNeill Foundation and working as seamstresses to support themselves and their children. Flora and Anna had worked hard to set everything in place for the Foundation, including a warehouse where shoppers could purchase their clothing, and they were confident the business would eventually be self-funding.

  Benneit, in his capacity as Duke of Lochmore, was to officially declare the Games open and award the prizes, and he and Joane and their entire family were present, down to little Louisa. And all of Flora’s family, including Tessa and William, had also come to join in the fun. She had watched with trepidation as Father had gone straight over to Benneit as soon as he arrived, but then she had breathed a sigh of relief as the two men shook hands and shared a wee dram of Carnmore Whisky. In no time at all they were on the best of terms, agreeing that clan feuds were best left in the past where they belonged and Flora dared to hope that, very soon, she would finally brave her father’s wrath and ask him for the truth about the lonely skeleton in the Great Tower at Castle McCrieff.

  Two arms encircled her from behind and she leaned back into Lachlan’s solid strength, breathing in his familiar musky male scent.

  ‘You should be sitting down,’ he grumbled into her ear. ‘You work too hard.’

  ‘I will shortly.’ She turned to face him. ‘We’ve been blessed with the weather, have we not? Apart from these dratted midges.’

  She waved her hand in front of her face to disperse the cloud of biting insects that clustered around them.

  ‘At least it’s fresher here on the clifftop than down in the glens or around the marshes by the Canal. They’ll be nigh-on intolerable down there.’ He touched her cheek, his dark eyes warm. ‘But not even midges will be allowed to spoil my day.’ He inhaled, his chest expanding as he gazed around the meadow and then up to the sky before returning his gaze to Flora. ‘I am a very happy man. Happy and proud.’

  She smiled up at him. ‘I am glad to hear that, for so am I. It is not only the weather we are blessed with, is it, my love?’

  ‘No, indeed.’ He pressed his warm lips to hers and she jerked away in surprise.

  ‘Lachlan! We are in public!’

  ‘I could not care less.’ He cradled her face and kissed her again.

  Neither could I.

  She returned his kiss, her tongue sliding against his, relishing the familiar tug at her core as her body prepared for his. Her desire for her gorgeous husband—no longer a stern, unfathomable stranger, but familiar and loving and kind and generous—grew stronger with every passing day.

  He released her mouth and smiled down at her. ‘I could not care less,’ he repeated, ‘because I want the whole world to know that I am in love with my wife.’ His eyes turned serious. ‘I thought I only needed a wife for my business and I could not see how alone I was. I was blessed when I married you, Flora McNeill—you healed
both of our families to become one but, more importantly, you healed my heart and you healed my soul. I never imagined I could be so happy—I adore our family, but I need only you. You are my world...you are my family.’

  Flora smiled and placed his hand on her belly.

  ‘We are your family, Lachlan.’

  She waited, watching until she saw the understanding grow in his dark eyes.

  ‘Always. You will never be alone again.’

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story be sure to check out

  the next books in The Lochmore Legacy miniseries

  Unlaced by the Highland Duke

  by Lara Temple

  A Runaway Bride for the Highlander

  by Elisabeth Hobbes

  Secrets of a Highland Warrior

  by Nicole Locke

  And also be sure to check out

  The Beauchamp Betrothals miniseries

  by Janice Preston, starting with

  Cinderella and the Duke

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Earl’s Runaway Governess by Catherine Tinley.

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