Page 76 of The Scot's Perfect Match
It was the start of all the days he’d been waiting for.
The bells still echoed in the distance when the last handful of guests filed from the kirk to make their way toward Heatherfield Castle for the wedding breakfast. Gavan should have followed, should have been standing beside his bride as they received the endless congratulations of friends and neighbors, but his feet carried him elsewhere.
He needed a moment.
They both did.
“Ava,” he murmured, catching her hand as she started toward the gravel path that led to the house.
She turned to him, brows lifting. “We’re meant to lead the procession.”
“Let them wait,” he said simply.
Her lips parted, ready with some quip, but then she saw his face, felt the urgency in his grip, and her teasing softened. She nodded once, letting him guide her away from the main path, across the clipped green lawn, and toward the quiet shelter of the old yew trees that lined the edge of Heatherfield Castle grounds.
It was cooler here, shaded from the late-morning sun, with the distant chatter of guests muffled by the canopy. They were alone, just the two of them, the air between them charged with the impossible mixture of giddiness and gravity that came with binding one life to another.
Gavan stopped near a low stone wall and turned to face her fully.
“I needed…” He faltered, shook his head, and started again. “I needed to see ye without all of them watching. Just for a moment.”
She blinked at him, then smiled, small, knowing. “Ye’ve already seen me.”
“No’ like this. No’ as my wife.”
He reached for her hand, and though they’d just spent half an hour holding each other before God and half the Highlands, it felt new again, something private, something professed. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them, letting the quiet stretch between them until the pounding of his heart slowed.
“Ye’re trembling,” she teased softly.
“Och, lass, an affliction that seems to have affected me since the kirk doors opened,” he admitted, his voice low and unguarded.
Her smile widened. “Ye did no’ look like it.”
“I’ve spent half my life learning how to hide what I feel,” he said. “But with ye…” He hesitated, searching for the words. “With ye, I dinna want to hide.”
Ava’s throat tightened. It was absurd, after everything they’d shared, after all the ways he’d laid himself bare in these last weeks, that this was what undid her. Not the kiss in the garden, not the proposal, but this quiet, steady confession from the man who had once been so carefully closed to her.
“Ye dinna have to,” she whispered.
His thumb brushed over her knuckles again, lingering. “I meant what I said in the vows. Every word. Ye are—” He stopped, his breath catching on the enormity of it. “Ye are the best thing I’ve ever been given, Ava.”
Her eyes burned, tears pricking at the corners, and for a moment she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything but lift her hand to his jaw, tracing the rough line of stubble there like she needed to memorize it. “Ye’ll ruin my veil,” she managed, her voice breaking on a laugh that was half sob.
“Let it be ruined,” he said, leaning closer.
She met him halfway, their lips coming together in a kiss that wasn’t for the guests, or for propriety, or for any of the gossiping onlookers who would whisper about their every move. This was theirs, slow, sure, settling deep in the bones and declaring they were one.
When they parted, foreheads resting together, Ava laughed again, soft and incredulous. “We'll be late to our wedding breakfast.”
“Och, they will no' mind. Let’s keep them waiting a little longer,” he murmured, his eyes holding a glint of mischievous promise.
And Ava, who had once worried so much about what everyone thought of her, decided this time around, the gossip was worth it if she might be able to kiss her husband a little while longer.
The carriage ride north felt symbolic, like stepping out of one life and into another.
The celebration had been a blur of congratulations and toasts, and Ava couldn't remember if she'd ever taken a bite or simply lifted her fork. But once the last glass had been raised and the last blessing offered, Gavan ushered her into the carriage with the quiet authority of a man who’d been waiting his whole life for this.
“Where are we going?” Ava asked as the wheels left the familiar road to Heatherfield Castle behind, and an entirely new world opened up to her.
