“Och, best wishes to ye, my lord,” the innkeeper said excitedly. “Dinner will be served within the hour. If ye would like to wait in the salon, there are libations for all tastes there.”
Not wanting to go back and face the empty room, he made his way to the salon, but denied any offering of drink. He didn’t care to repeat the indulgences of the past few weeks and he wanted to ensure that he kept his head clear for his meeting with Lizzie. Instead, he picked up one of the papers piled on a corner table and read of the local news while he waited.
There wasn’t much of interest. A new estate was being built. A barn had burned down. Sadly, the owners had lost a hog. Incredibly, another Phantom Prowler burglary. He couldn’t help but smile, kenning who it truly was now, thanks to Lizzie.
A bell chimed making him aware that dinner would soon be served. Folding the paper, he placed it back on the stack and made his way to the dining hall.
“Malcolm?”
He heard his name being called, the voice soft with a tinge of disbelief. But he kenned that voice. Had longed to hear it for weeks. Could it be?
He spun around, and standing in front of him was the most beautiful visage he could ever imagine.
Lizzie.
It all happened so fast. One moment she was standing there, and the next she was running towards his opened arms.
He scooped her up, burying his nose in her lavender-scented hair, and his body roared to life as his heart mended itself back together.
She cried as she clung to his neck, placing kisses on his cheek as she wrapped her legs around him. Having not a care in the world of who was watching.
“What are ye doing here, Lass?”
“I should ask the same of ye.”
He set her down and looked around them. Thankfully, the place was empty save for Mary who hung back silently.
“I was coming back to find ye. To explain—”
“Ye dinna need to explain.” She clasped his hand and held it tightly. “I understand.”
Two simple words, but they meant so much to him. Hope bloomed anew in his chest. Mayhap this would all work out. Just as his friends insisted.
Remembering his manners after being so stunned at seeing her, he asked, “Have ye eaten?”
She shook her head.
“Join me for dinner?”
“I would love that.” She accepted his arm and blessed him with the most beautiful smile.
*
Malcolm looked sonervous as he pulled out the chair at the table to allow Lizzie to sit. She would have sworn she saw his hands shaking.
They waited until wine had been poured into each of their glasses and the meal had been served to speak.
She was telling the truth when she’d answered that she hadn’t eaten, but she had no appetite. Not for food anyway.
Watching the server walk away, Lizzie sipped her wine, trying to remember all the things she had said she would ask him when she saw him, but her mind drew a blank.
“I canna believe ye are sitting in front of me,” she finally said, her voice laced with disbelief. “What are the odds that we stopped at the same inn at the same time?”
“Apparently one hundred percent,” he answered, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
She giggled. “I suppose ye are right. I say it must be fate.”
“I am no’ so sure I believe in fate.” He took a small sip of wine and she watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in the most fascinating way.
