His shoulders straightened. ‘They were free to make their choice. And you are mine.’ He took her hands in his and gazed at her lovely face, more beautiful because she was here with him in his beloved Highlands. ‘I have never been surer of anything in my life, my own dear one.’ He looked into her mysterious heather-coloured eyes and willed her to believe him. ‘If you had not come here today, I would have continued going through the motions. Doing my best for my family. But every day I would have been dying inside. I love you, Charity. There will never be anyone else. And if they do not like it, they can go hang.’
She smiled a bit at that. ‘Oh, Logan.’
And her expression said she had no more fight left. He gathered her in his arms. ‘Marry me, love. Please. And put me out of my misery.’
A small sound like a laugh and a sob came from her lips. She wound her arms around his neck and leaned into him. ‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘Oh, Logan, yes, please. I do love you, so much.’
The shattered bits of his heart came together, so filled with love it felt too big to fit inside his chest and stole all his words.
So he kissed her instead.
Epilogue
The wedding had gone off very well, with Logan’s older brothers serving as groomsman and giver of the bride. Charity couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy as she did right now, with the joyous din of the celebration in the Dunross Great Hall echoing off the stone walls. The scent of roasted meat and smoke from the fires filled the air. And servants bustled about filling glasses and plates. The Laird had done them proud indeed.
Charity stretched a hand with its gleaming gold ring across Logan’s empty place at her side, to touch her new sister-in-law’s arm. She raised her voice to be heard. ‘What is going on?’ She gave a significant nod at the little knot of men grouped at the end of the long trestle table. ‘They all look very serious.’
Three Gilvry brothers and their cousin Gordon, to whom she’d been introduced following her and Logan’s marriage, were engaged in deep conversation.
Lady Selina frowned. ‘Gordon said he had something to tell Ian when he first arrived. But I hardly think this is the time or the place.’ She started to rise, then sat back down as the group broke up.
Charity couldn’t help watching Logan as he prowled back to her side. Still cocky. And charming. But his gaze was full of love and his smile was for her only. She smiled a welcome. ‘Bad news?’
‘Not really. Some vague news of Drew, my brother. A sighting before he disappeared.’
Drew’s absence was a sore point at this family celebration, as was the reason why Logan’s mother wasn’t in attendance. Two empty places had been set for them just in case.
Logan took her hand in his and kissed it. ‘It is all right, leannan. No reason to spoil the celebration. Gordon is a good man and he wanted us to know, that was all.’
Retaining her hand in his, he sat down and leaned close, looking out across the hall. ‘Ah. Now you are in for a treat.’
Four men with two swords apiece ran to stand in front of the dais, setting them down on the flagstones on the form of a cross.
‘A sword dance,’ Charity said, covering his hand with hers. She’d requested it as part of the entertainment, having never seen one.
‘It doesna seem so very long ago,’ said Niall, who had returned to his seat next to his wife a bit further down the table, ‘since we were dancing for a purse at Carrick Castle.’
‘You never said you knew how to do it!’ Charity said, nudging Logan.
‘Aye, well, if it is the sword dance you want, Ian is your man.’ Logan looked up at his dark-haired older brother at that moment squeezing behind his chair to return to his seat.
‘Practise makes perfect,’ Ian said and flashed a smile which made him terribly handsome and look years younger. His smile broadened as his gaze met that of his wife.
The piper against the wall puffed a bit and there were a few squeaks and groans, then he was playing a foot-tapping tune. The four men bowed and began their dance.
Charity could not help but watch the swing of their kilts as they jumped neatly over the swords in time to the beat of the music.
‘No peeking,’ Logan whispered in her ear. ‘There’ll be plenty enough for you to see when we’re alone.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said primly, then laughed. ‘How did you know?’
He grinned. ‘There isn’t a lass here who isn’t looking.’
She glanced around the room. He was right. She gave him a sideways look. ‘Will you dance like that for me one day?’
‘My feet have no’ stopped moving trying to keep up with you since we met.’
She laughed. ‘True. But will you?’
A deep sigh gusted past her ear, not impatience, but contentment. ‘I’d do anything for you, lass. Anything at all.’ He kissed her cheek and some of the folk on the nearby tables cheered and raised their glasses in toast. Logan raised his in return.
The dance ended and the pipes took up a reel.
Logan led his wife out from behind the table to open the country dancing. The floor was crowded with clan members and their wives. He glanced at his brothers who had joined them in the set. He had never seen two happier men. Apart from him, that was. He really did wish Drew could have been with them. As brothers, they’d always stood shoulder to shoulder and they needed him.
They had an enemy. And he had struck more than once in the past. But until recently they had never had any proof of his existence.
‘A penny for your thoughts,’ Charity said as they twirled around the room.
He jerked out of his reverie. How could he be worrying about such things when he had his beautiful wife in his arms? ‘I’m sorry. I was daydreaming. Thinking I couldn’t be happier.’
‘I will certainly do my best to make sure you stay that way,’ she said in the sultry purr that she now kept for him alone.
His body responded instantly. Thank goodness for his sporran. He focused on her, and her beautiful face and their future, and danced until he was out of breath. And all he could think of was them being alone. Together. In their chamber in the keep. The sooner this celebration was over, the better.
‘Shall we go?’ he whispered as the music wound down.
‘Please,’ she said, her eyes alight with wickedness.
They moved off the dance floor and were once again surrounded by clan members offering congratulations. They accepted Charity, because Ian did, but they would grow to like her for herself once they knew her. Especially since she would be accompanying him on his smuggling trips. It had been part of her condition of agreeing to marry him. She had bargained hard, and in the end, because he wanted her with him all the time, he had agreed. Not that he would be taking her on the most dangerous runs.
‘Leaving already?’ Ian asked, coming up behind them with Selina on his arm, both of them looking flushed from the dancing.
‘He’s been ready these past two hours,’ Niall said with a broad grin and a wink and a quick kiss on his wife’s cheek.
‘Longer than that,’ Logan said, pretending to wipe the sweat from his brow.
Charity blushed. She’d been doing a lot of that recently. It suited her.
‘We’ll have a toast first, though,’ Jenna said. ‘Then I really must check on Rabbie.’
As a group, they walked up the steps to the dais. The Gilvrys and their wives, side by side. A formidable family.
The room fell silent. ‘I know you will all join me in a toast to my brother and his new wife, Charity,’ Ian said in a voice that rang through the room. ‘May they be as happy as I am and may their house be filled with bairns. To Logan and Charity.’
She had decided to keep the name she’d lived with all these years. It was how Logan thought of her, and she declared no intention of ret
urning to London or getting in touch with her family.
‘Logan and Charity,’ the people echoed, raising their glasses.
Logan bowed. ‘Drink and dance as long as you wish,’ he shouted for all to hear. ‘The Laird’s purse is as deep as the loch.’
The sound of laughter and cheers, whistles and stamping feet rose to the rafters and the pipes wheezed into the opening bars of a strathspay.
Charity tugged on his sleeve and stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, ‘About that dancing you promised me...’
His body tightened. A grin refused to be quelled, so he let it loose. ‘Aye,’ he murmured. ‘And we’ll no’ be needing a piper for the kind of dancing I have in mind.’
To more cheers and whistles he picked her up and carried her, a deliciously willing wife, out of the room and up to their chamber high in the keep.
* * * * *
ISBN: 9781472004253
FALLING FOR THE HIGHLAND ROGUE
© Michèle Ann Young 2013
First Published in Great Britain in 2013
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Falling for the Highland Rogue Page 24