“If I’d wanted to, I would have done that years ago. A dynasty doesn’t interest me.” He cupped her face between his hands. “Youinterest me. I love your independence. I love that you have no fear of speaking your mind, and I have no wish to suppress that. You are your own woman, and I admire that.”
“More than bloodlines and connections?” She was thinking of all the English lasses who would love to have his titles and his wealth. Both England and Scotland would benefit from such a union.
Iain laughed. “You are a combination of MacGregor and Graham. There are no better connections than that, but that’s not why I’m asking you to marry me. I love you, and I want to wake up next to you in the morning and make love to you every night and not worry about what people are saying.”
Tears blurred her vision. His words were beautiful and she believed everything he said. If he’d wanted an alliance with England, he would have made one long ago, but he hadn’t. And an alliance with the MacGregors and Grahams was a coup, although she wasn’t certain that either grandfather would approve. She might cause another rift in both families with this marriage. If she chose to marry him.
“I want to say yes,” she said.
“But what?”
“But…I don’t know. I’m afraid. What if—”
He pressed his finger to her lips. “Life is not guaranteed. We will always lose the ones we love. Whether it be sooner than later is not up to us. All we can do is live our lives to the fullest and enjoy each day as it’s given to us.”
“Ye make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not easy. It’s difficult. Damn difficult. But it’s worth it.”
She’d thought her life was complete. She enjoyed her vocation as a healer. She felt good that she was helping Sutherland and the poor souls who came to her for sanctuary. She had a home that she’d made her own. What Iain was offering was something she had closed her mind and heart to long ago. He was forcing her to rethink everything. To open her life to heartache and possibly grief.
But was life worth living if you allowed yourself to live only half of it?
“I would…” She licked her lips. Her heart was pounding so hard that she was surprised he couldn’t feel it. “I would be open to the possibility.”
“That’s all I can ask at the moment. I know commitments make you nervous, but I promise to dedicate every day to your happiness. If that means leaving you alone because you’re feeling stifled, then I will do so.”
“Ye’re too good to me.”
“And I plan on continuing to be. I love you, Cait Campbell.”
She grinned at him, hardly able to believe that things had changed so quickly. A month ago she would have laughed if someone had told her she was thinking of marrying Iain Campbell. She’d not even liked the man a month ago; she’d thought him a traitor to the Scottish people and distrusted him. But that was before she’d allowed herself to get to know him. She trusted him now. He knew all her secrets and he still wanted her. That meant a lot.
“You’re thinking far too hard for my liking.”
“My thoughts are jumbled.”
He chuckled and began dressing. “Think with your heart, not your mind.”
“I’ll try.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “It’s early yet. Get some sleep. Be careful today. Even though Donaldson is gone, there are other soldiers about. I will return as soon as I can. Probably around nightfall.” He straightened and looked down on her. “I love you.”
He left her with a full heart and a spring to her step. When was the last time she’d looked forward to her day like this?
—
She had just fed her four guests and closed and covered the hidden door when Black Cat took his position at the front door, alerting her that someone was coming.
She hurried to clean up the dishes, feeling like a young lass with her first love. Had Iain decided to come back early? Surely he wasn’t finished with the north field, but she supposed it was possible. Or maybe something had happened and he needed her to supply aid to someone injured. It could also be Sutherland coming to fetch his people, though she doubted that he would arrive in the middle of the day.
She opened the door and stepped out to find that it wasn’t Iain or Sutherland.
It was Donaldson.
She spun around, tripped over Black Cat, and went sprawling, twisting her ankle and crying out as she caught herself with her hands, scraping her palms on the rough stones.
She scrambled up and looked behind her. Donaldson had reined in his horse and was jumping off, his face a mask of fury, his dark close-set eyes glittering.
