“Aye. Gave me a right fright, he did, when I came around the corner with the pitcher of warm water. Nearly sloshed the entire thing down the front of me.” Ina grinned. “I nearly forgot! The laird asked me to give ye this.” The maid moved to the window embrasure and lifted something Laurel hadn’t noticed. She sucked in a whistling breath when she recognized the swath of Campbell plaid. She took it from Ina and held it up to her face. She could smell a trace of Brodie’s scent on the wool. He’d worn his ownbreacan feilethe entire time he’d been at court, which many Highlanders abandoned in favor of breeks and a doublet. Brodie would have draped the plaid she held over his shoulder if he opted for the Lowland attire. Instead, it now draped over Laurel’s. She moved to her jewelry box, a moment of regret that none of her jewels were real or fine enough to compliment the Campbell plaid, but she selected a brooch and clasped the sash as her waist on the opposite side from where it covered her shoulder.
“I wish ye happy, ma lady,” Ina said as she opened the door for Laurel.
“Laurie,” Brodie breathed as he turned to watch Laurel enter the passageway. She took his breath away. Her cream gown made her alabaster skin glow, while it made her hair shimmer like flames beside snow. She was the image of fire and ice, innocence and passion. The stitching along the top of her skirts just below her waist was exquisite. But it was his plaid resting over her heart that made him smile with happiness. She fingered the hem of the plaid with unease, and Brodie realized she wasn’t certain how to interpret his greeting. “You look beautiful. Thank you for wearing my colors.”
“Does it mean you’ve signed the contracts?” Laurel asked tentatively.
“Aye, Laurie. We are betrothed now.” Brodie watched to see if Laurel gave any sign of regret. What he spied was excitement and relief. “Are you happy, thistle?”
“I didn’t imagine I would be, at least not this much, but I am, Brodie. I really am,” Laurel admitted. “I wish I had something to give to you.”
“I don’t expect aught,” Brodie slid his arms around her, holding her in place. “And don’t think I said that because I believe you haven’t aught to give. I didn’t give you the plaid because I wanted aught in return. I gave it to you because I want you to ken I’m proud to call you my bride. I want you to ken I welcome you into my clan and my family.”
“Why are you so wonderful?”
“Och, we shall see how wonderful you think I am when you discover I snore. And when I track mud into your Great Hall,” Brodie grinned, then lowered his voice. “Or when I make love you in our bed throughout the night and well into the morn.”
Laurel’s cheeks blazed scarlet, but she didn’t shy away from Brodie. “When?”
“Three sennights. The time it takes to post the banns,” Brodie informed her.
“I thought you only intended to stay a fortnight. That would mean only a sennight longer. Don’t you need to return to Kilchurn?” Laurel bit her lower lip. “Are you going home then coming back to claim me?”
“Kilchurn needs its laird, but right now, I need to be here more,” Brodie answered.
“I shouldn’t be what keeps you from your duties, Brodie. That’s not a good impression to make with your people.”
“Laurie, I told you I wish to court you. I signed the contracts, but I was clear to King Robert and Monty that you may refuse me without penalty. We have three sennights. It’s not long, but I hope it is time enough for you to ken if you wish to come back to Kilchurn with me, whether it’s as my wife or a villager.”
“I already told ye, I canna live there as just another member of the village,” Laurel said as a lump formed in her throat. Her emotions pushed her burr back into her accent.
“And I dinna want ye to, but I will do what ye wish. If ye dinna wish to marry me, I willna leave ye here, and I willna let Monty take ye to Balnagown or somewhere ye’d be miserable.” Brodie’s brogue came back when he heard the familiar rolling sounds of Laurel’s Highland speech.
“Thank ye,mo dhìonadair,” Laurel said as she leaned into Brodie’s chest, and he drew her into his tight embrace.
“I will always be yer protector, thistle.” Brodie pressed his lips to Laurel’s in an achingly tender moment that was shattered by a slamming door. The word “strumpet” floated to them, but when Brodie and Laurel looked around, there were too many shocked faces to know who’d uttered the accusation. Laurel sighed before she glanced up at Brodie.
“Mayhap one of these days we’ll learn.”
“Keep kissing me like that, and the only thing I will learn is to find more ways to keep kissing ye.”
