“Yes,” she whispered. But could that ever be enough?
“Then you are everything I need, lass. The only woman I’ve ever wanted, or ever will.”
His fingers curled around her nape, drawing her forward until their lips almost touched. Her eyes fluttered closed as his warm breath caressed her cheek. Her heart faltered, forgetting how to beat properly.
“Will you take me for your husband, Eddi?”
The unknown frightened her. It always had. But surrounded by his warmth and palpable love, her courage began to grow. Sometimes, one needed to take the leap and hope for a soft landing.
“D-do you promise to catch me if I fall, Mr. McTaggart?”
“Aye, lass.” His crooked grin appeared, and her insides melted. “For the rest of our lives.”
A wide smile spread across her face. “Then you are everything I need, and the only man I will ever want.”
With a whoop, he lifted her off her feet and kissed her fiercely.
Chapter Thirteen
Edith and Mr. McTaggart spent the rest of the evening envisioning their future lives together. During the colder months, she would sew curtains for the cottage windows and spend time in the kitchen at Aldmist Fell with his mother, learning to make his favorite Scottish dishes. When spring arrived, she would plant an herb and vegetable garden.
Mr. McTaggart spoke of adding a water closet now that a woman would be living under his roof. The room off the bedchamber, with its excellent light, would make a fine sewing space, at least until they needed it for a nursery.
He would teach her to drive a small cart as well, so she could make trips to the village for whatever she needed to make the cottage their home. He had even decided which side of the bed would be his.
“The one closest to the door, to protect you, lass.”
“And if an intruder comes through the window, I’ll be the first out the door,” she’d teased.
Last night, she allowed herself to savor her happiness. But now, she had to face an unpleasant task. Edith took a fortifying breath and raised her fist to knock on Lavinia’s door. Her heart raced as she heard light footsteps approaching.
Lavinia greeted her with a smile. “Edith, come in. We missed you at supper last night.”
Edith tried to gauge from her friend’s expression whether Lady Thorne had mentioned her private meal with Mr. McTaggart, but Lavinia was as unreadable as ever. Squeezing past her, Edith took a seat in the same chair she’d stumbled over yesterday. “Did I miss anything exciting?” she asked lightly.
“Supper was pleasant, though uneventful.” Lavinia settled into the chair opposite, narrowing her eyes as she studied Edith. “You look a bit pale. Are you certain you’re well?”
Edith’s guilt must have shown on her face. “Of course,” she replied breezily, hoping to end Lavinia’s scrutiny. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Indeed.” Edith smoothed the wrinkles from her skirts, avoiding Lavinia’s gaze. “I’m better now.”
She didn’t want to cause any trouble between the sisters by revealing that Lady Thorne had told a white lie on her behalf. Lavinia let out a relieved breath. “Thank goodness. I was worried you wouldn’t be well enough to travel next week. I’ve convinced St. Ambrose to return early.”
Edith’s hands trembled slightly. Perhaps this conversation would have come more easily if Lady Thorne hadn’t kept her supper with Mr. McTaggart secret. “I…um. Next week is inconvenient.”
Lavinia’s blue-green eyes widened, and she scooted forward to clasp Edith’s hand.
“You are ill, aren’t you? All the color’s drained from your face. I knew I should have insisted on Lord Thorne sending for a doctor. Well, it isn’t too late.” She hopped from her chair and marched toward the bell pull.
“I’m not sick,” she blurted. “I am betrothed.”
Her friend’s head whipped around; her mouth formed a silent “O.”
“I was with Mr. McTaggart last night.” Edith fidgeted with the pillow ruffle beside her. “He asked me to marry him, and I accepted.”
Lavinia released the bell pull and slowly returned to stand in front of her. “Oh, Edith…”
Edith stared at the floor, unable to meet her friend’s disappointed gaze. “I’m sorry, Lavinia. You were counting on me, and I’ve let you down. Perhaps Mr. McTaggart would understand postponing—”
