Page 58 of A Virgin for the Icy Highlander
“That you have a very… independent bride?” Grace replied with a mischievous smile. “You must understand, my betrothed, that I haven’t observed etiquette for three years. I’m somewhat rusty at being a lady.”
Hunter grunted. “Aye, so independent that I was the last to ken I was gettin’ married at all.”
There hadn’t been a moment to bring it up, between Ailis seizing control of his castle in the time it had taken him to bathe in the river and eat his breakfast, and Grace informing him that she was venturing out to purchase a gown for the wedding with Lilian and Ellie. Thinking of the men in the woods, he’d insisted on escorting the three of them before he could get his mind to catch up to what it all meant: that Grace had accepted his proposal.
“I have apologized for that,” Grace protested with a smile. “In fairness, I didn’t know I was accepting until Ailis demanded an answer.”
He tilted his head to the side, grazing his teeth across his lower lip as he cast a dubious look at her. “Ye mean, ye didnae ken if ye were goin’ to accept last night? It sounded to me like ye’d well and truly made up yer mind.”
“Stop that!” she hissed, glancing around her as though she expected to find every villager listening in.
“Now, that’s somethin’ ye didnae say last night,” he teased, enjoying himself far more than he had thought possible.
Grace pouted, tilting her head up as she pretended to weep in frustration. “I shall burn to a crisp if you keep saying things like that, Hunter, and I really don’t want to have to look at myself in the mirror with a face as purple as a beetroot.” She clasped her hands together. “Please, I beg of you, relent until we are at least out of the dressmaker’s shop.”
“Very well,” he conceded, bringing his hand up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I’ll nae forget that ye begged.”
“You could roast a goose on these cheeks now,” she muttered, while her eyes sparkled with a happiness he wished would never fade. “Are you content? The dressmaker will likely refuse to clothe me, fearing I have a fever of some kind.”
He shook his head. “I like it when ye blush. It… becomes ye.”
He let his hand cradle her cheek a few seconds longer, uncertain of how many moments like this he might still have. For there was another reason he wished he had known sooner that she’d accepted him and that Ailis hadn’t started rushing around, making arrangements without his say-so.
Before the end of the day, he would have to tell her the story of his first wife, Lorna. He had vowed to himself that, as soon as Grace accepted his offer, she would learn the truth, and that moment was now here.
Or should I do it now, before she chooses a gown?
“What’s wrong?” she asked, peering up at him, her beautiful green eyes glittering still.
He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Grace, there’s?—”
“Out of the way, clootie dumplings!” Ellie shot out of the carriage, pushing straight between the couple. “We need to find the dress lady, now! I have an idea in me head. It’ll be gone if we dinnae hurry!”
Hunter blinked in astonishment. “Did she just call me a clootie dumplin’?”
“It’s a new endearment,” Grace whispered back with a wink. “You should feel honored, indeed.”
“Now!” Ellie urged, clapping her hands like a miniature Ailis commanding an entire castle to do her bidding.
Weaving her arm through Hunter’s, Grace smiled up at him. “It seems we’re wanted. I would hate to see what she might do if we linger any longer. And the walk should give me time to cool my cheeks.”
“I tried to delay her,” Lilian said as she emerged from the carriage. “Apologies, she is quite determined.”
Hunter bowed his head to her. “Nothin’ to apologize for, Lady Lilian. It’s the determination that’ll ensure nay one ever tries to take advantage of her.” He paused, looking down at his bride. “If she’s half as independent as Grace here, I wager she’ll have a fine future ahead of her.”
“Oh, you two!” Lilian gushed. Tears welled up in her big eyes as she clasped a hand to her chest. “I hope you are the happiest any couple has ever been. Truly, I?—”
“Now, dumplings!” Ellie barked, a short distance away, throwing up her hands in another gesture she’d clearly learned fromsomeone.
Grace chuckled. “Thank you, Lilian, but I fear we must postpone the well-wishes until after the dressmaker, or else Ellie may beat us all senseless.”
“Quite right.” Lilian beamed, brushing the tears from her cheeks before hurrying forward to take Ellie by the hand, leading the way to the dressmaker’s shop.
Hunter would have happily let them wander onward and enjoyed the sight of his daughter so at ease and giddy, but that wouldn’t have been of any benefit to her burgeoning ideas.
Putting his fingers between his lips, he blasted a sharp whistle that drew Lilian and Ellie’s attention back to him… as well as startling a few villagers, whose eyes widened in surprise at the sight of their Laird.
“It’s this way,” he said, pointing in the opposite direction.
