His fingers brushed her shoulder when he pushed her chair closer to the table, creating gooseflesh along her arms. “I am pleased you came, lass. I dinna know if you would.”
She didn’t know what to say. If he had stayed away, there would be no war waging inside her. Nevertheless, hewashere and the lovely evening he’d planned for them filled her with wistfulness. In lieu of words, she uttered an ambiguous grunt and shook out the napkin to drape it over her lap.
Mr. McTaggart chuckled and assumed his seat across from her. “You learnt a thing or two from yer time with the clan. I expect ye’ll be able to carry on a conversation without using a single word in no time.”
Edith smiled. Tension melted from her shoulders. “What I meant to say was thank you for inviting me.”
“Would you like to see what we’re being served before you offer yer thanks?” He lifted a silver dome covering one of the dishes.
Edith’s eyes widened. “A soufflé. I never learned to make one that didn’t cave in the middle. What is inside?”
“Corned beef.”
He dished a large spoonful onto her plate, and Edith leaned forward to draw in the savory scent. “It looks and smells delicious,” she said. “I believe I will stand by my thank you after all.”
Next he poured red wine into her goblet. When he set the bottle aside, she raised her eyebrows in question.
“I am refraining from drinking anything more potent than tea,” he said. “A certain bonnie lass suggested I should keep my wits about me if I want her to take me seriously.”
He winked. Edith lifted the goblet and slowly swirled the wine as Lord Thorne often did at dinner rather than acknowledge Mr. McTaggart’s flirtatious teasing. Memories of their kiss on the stairway caused her insides to quiver. As the meal progressed and she sipped her wine, she grew more at ease. Warm tingles rained down her body, soaking through her skin and heating her inside. “Is this how everything could be with us?” she blurted. “Uncomplicated?Easy?”
A corner of his mouth inched up. “No’ all the time, I expect. Yer no’ the easy sort, are you, Eddi? But neither am I, so I need a woman to challenge me now and again.”
She placed her wine goblet on the table while she considered his answer. “Is that how you truly view me? I believe you called me a harpy once.”
A deep blush swept over his face. “Weel, you cannae hold the past against me. That was before I knew I loved you, lass.”
Edith could sense the blood rushing through her veins. It left her woolly-headed and uncertain she’d heard correctly. “You love me?”
“Aye.” He stood and came to urge her to stand too. His arms slid around her waist. “If I didna love you, I wouldna have asked you ta be my bride.”
“You were foxed last night. I thought you didn’t realize what you were saying.”
“Oh, aye. I knew weel enough what I wanted last night.” He drew her closer and her breath escaped on a ragged exhale. “It is the same as I want now. I’ve waited many long years to find you, Eddi, my love. I cannae allow you to walk away.”
He eased from their embrace and lowered to one knee, taking her hands in his. Edith’s fingers curled around his larger, stronger palms and held on tightly.
“Will ye marry me, lass?”
Her legs trembled. She wanted to shout out an acceptance and fling herself into his arms. As a girl, she had dreamed of a moment just like this one. A romantic proposal. A declaration of love. Yet never once in her dreams had she been faced with choosing between remaining loyal to a friend and the man she loved. Either way, she would disappoint someone dear to her.
“I—” She swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I mean, Ido,” she rushed to clarify when his strong brows lowered over his eyes. “I—I think.”
She bit her bottom lip, blinking to keep her tears at bay. Mr. McTaggart was correct about some things being difficult for them. Besides Lavinia needing her, there was the very likely possibility Edith couldn’t bear him children.
His frown deepened and he rose from the floor. Her heart dropped. He was giving up already.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“We need to sort through what it is keeping you from knowing.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and escorted her from the dining room. “I cannae be the only one certain about us if we hope for a good start.”
He led her through the dim corridor toward a back part of the castle where she’d never been. Candlelight flickered over the stone walls, creating eerie shadows along the winding passage. Memories of nights spent skulking through alleys in search of food or a hiding place to sleep an hour or two flashed through her mind. She shivered.
“Are you cold?” Mr. McTaggart stopped to unpin his tartan and wrapped it around her.
“Thank you. I will launder it and see it returned to you.” She drew the soft swath of fabric close around her body and brushed a corner against her cheek.
“It is yers. Every McTaggart woman has one.”
