“Munroe is dead, Maggie.”
“What?” she gasped.
“I killed him.”
“What . . . what happened?”
Setting the brooch on the arm of the chair, he once again drew her close. “I found Munroe abusing a woman named Mary Steward.”
“Poor Mary,” Maggie breathed. “Did Torean see what happened to her?”
Logan nodded.
Maggie pushed out a breath. “He finally understands what a brute Innes is.”
“Aye. After the duel, he asked me to stay at the castle for Hogmanay. I think, even before I told him about Munroe blinding me, he suspected the man had cheated—”
“Is that what Innes did to you?” she breathed. “Blinded you? I didn’t know. I was certain something horrible had happened.” She touched a fingertip to the corner of his eye.
“Aye.”
“But you can see now?”
He nodded. “The effect was temporary.”
“So Torean understood and regretted his promises to Innes, but was trying to work out how he could honorably repudiate those promises without gaining the enmity of the Munroes?” she asked.
“Exactly. He is still cautious and unsure of his leadership, and I think he was taking his time to work out his final decision on the matter. He was trying to be wise. Yet when he heard the gunshot and saw Mary Steward so ill used—well, he regretted Munroe’s fate no more than I did.”
She looked up at Logan in wonder, stroking her hand along his cheek. A late-n ight dark bristle had broken out over his jaw, and it scraped against her fingertips. “You’ve saved me after all. Twice.”
“He’ll never bother you again. And he’ll never hurt another woman.”
She shuddered. “I . . . I’m glad.”
“I brought you something else.” Logan dug into the folds of his plaid and brought out two small packets. He handed them to her. “Open them.”
She complied, grinning when she saw what they contained. “Salt. And coals.”
“Your cousin asked me to give them to you. He said you’d understand.”
She looked up at him. “Does this mean . . . ?”
“Aye, Maggie. He’s given us his blessing. Munroe is dead, so there is no more lure of a political alliance with his clan, though he assured me that the politics no longer matter to him. The laird has approved our union.”
Emotion surged through Maggie, so sweet and so strong she could scarcely breathe.
Logan Douglas was her destiny. The look of love in his eyes obliterated any lingering doubts she might have held on to. He was hers. The agate in her mother’s brooch had transformed into a diamond, confirming it.
“I love you,” he said. “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you, and when you awoke and opened your mouth to challenge me I loved you more. When we made love the first time, my love for you grew, and then it grew more in the days afterward as we lay together, sharing ourselves with each other. I love you as I’ve never loved another soul. Will you be mine, Maggie MacDonald?”
“Aye, Logan Douglas. If you will be mine in return.”
He touched a callused fingertip to her lips. “Aye, my love. I will be yours.”
Sweet happiness swelled in Maggie’s chest. She pushed her fingers into Logan’s silky black hair and drew his head close.
“I love you, Logan Douglas,” she whispered, gazing into the shining depths of his eyes. Then she leaned forward and claimed the soft, masculine lips that would belong to her forevermore.
About the Author
Dawn Halliday writes historical and contemporary romance from her home office in the Southern California desert. When she doesn’t have her head buried in a book, you can find her playing video games, watching movies with her husband, or posing as a baseball mom with her three children. Ms. Halliday is the author of Highland Obsession, Highland Surrender, and a co-contributor to the anthology, A Highlander Christmas.
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