Page 24 of Wed to the Highlander
“A rather apt metaphor, don’t you think? Since I erupted in you.”
“Duncan!” she gasped. “That isn’t at all what I meant.”
When he didn’t stop laughing, she shoved his shoulder. To which he responded by rolling with her in his arms, and, with her atop him, his fingers twined in her hair, kissed her. It turned rapidly from playful to amorous, which took care of his hilarity.
Later, when the lamps had been extinguished and the fire dimmed to embers, they lay entwined—her cheek over his heart, his hand curled possessively around her hip.
“This wasn’t the dream,” she said softly.
“But it’s ours now,” he replied. There was a moment’s pause. “I want you to be happy here, Maggie. And I’ll do what it takes to make that happen.”
Her eyes lifted to his. After today, with his care, consideration, and tonight, which completely overwhelmed her, from the passion to the laughter—like before, when they were just friends, minus being naked and the bawdy talk—she was nearly convinced their marriage wasn’t just a strategy.
Duncan didn’t promise with words. He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair—and held her, at ease, as though he had the rest of his life to prove to her it wasn’t.
Chapter 7
Despite the damp that settled into her bones and the chill that lingered in every stone, Maggie tried to settle in. The people were polite—mostly—but distant, their smiles thin and seeming forced. Fiona was a glimmer in the gloom, offering warmth when she could: a smile, a word of advice, a moment of kindness. But with castle duties and three children, her time was rarely her own. The same was true of Duncan. He remained Maggie’s touchstone, her anchor, even as duty pulled him further away—his days claimed by tenants, councils, and the weight of legacy. Still, he made a point, every day, to show her the breadth of his world: the castle, the glen, and the laird himself.
They began indoors, wandering the maze of corridors. Duncan pointed out the original architecture and retold castle history with wry commentary. When they came upon a locked door or barred hallway, he steered her away with a protective hand at her back.
“More than once, you accused me of having a crumbling castle,” he said. “You weren’t wrong. The oldest sections are held together by stubborn stone and prayer. Repairs are slow. A full renovation…” He shrugged. “That’ll take time.”
And coin, she thought, but didn’t say.
“This hall leads to the north wing, which is the worst off. It’s shuttered for that reason,” he warned.
She eyed the shadowy corridor with the heavy wood and iron door at the end.
“How bad is it?”
“Bad. It was the original castle and changed hands several times until the MacPhersons claimed it.”
“Seized it?”
“Mayhap,” he said, noncommittal. “The foundation is unstable; there are major cracks in the masonry and rotting wood because the ceiling leaks like a sieve. The tower is nae much better.”
“Why not just tear it down?”
“I’ve had architects from Edinburgh in. Much of it is salvageable. Our challenge is keeping people out until the work can be done.”
“It seems the perfect place for mischievous boys to explore—no matter the risk.”
“Aye. Andrew and I would have done it, no matter the punishment handed down. I tell our lads, with more adventure in their hearts than sense, that in the north wing, if the rats do no’ get them, the falling masonry will.”
“Rats!” she said with a shudder. “Rest assured, I’ll not be venturing in there.”
“Good. Wouldn’t want it crashing down on your bonny head.”
She tipped up her chin. “Is that your idea of sweet talk, laird?”
“It’s a warning to be heeded,mo leannan.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. It was an affectionate gesture, as if she was the sweetheart he often called her—something she knew, thanks to Fiona’s translation.
They continued on with the tour. The more Duncan revealed of the castle’s hidden corners, the more he seemed eager to show her the wild heart of the Highlands themselves.
On drier days, they rode for hours. March skies shifted without warning—sun one hour, sleet the next—but they made the most of it.
