Dare to Love a Scot Read online

  Weirick glanced between the two of them. “What have I not been told?”

  Prim ignored him, holding Erick’s gaze. “A fight is not the answer. He won’t hurt me.”

  Not anymore than he already has.

  “He’s my cousin. I won’t fight him unless I have to.”

  They both turned as the horses entered the pool of light surrounding the drive.

  “Apparently I haven’t been told anything,” Weirick muttered, tucking his pistol back in his waistband.

  Lachy reined to a halt then, and Prim’s heart throbbed at the sight of him. His face was shadowed, not revealing any hint of his reasons for coming here.

  She stepped forward, but Erick stopped her at his side.

  “Why are you here?” she demanded.

  She could feel his focus like a touch, and her traitor heart rallied.

  “Surely there isn’t a reason we can’t discuss things over port in a civilized manner,” Erick said.

  Lachy’s attention moved to him. “I’m not interested in civility tonight, Your Grace. I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”

  The door opened behind Prim, and she looked back to see Adam step out.

  “Go back,” she whispered.

  His presence would only infuriate Lachy more.

  “What kind of fiancé would I be if I let you face him alone?” Adam whispered.

  “A living one,” Weirick quiped.

  Prim wanted to shove him away, but she faced Lachy instead. He looked as if he’d like to murder Adam where he stood.

  She stepped forward, waving away Erick and Adam. “Stay back. Please, just this once, listen to me.”

  Erick stonily obeyed, and Adam folded his arms.

  Prim moved toward Lachy and he dismounted, stepping into better light. Her knees turned to water as she moved closer to him. Her heart was pounding, and she wished she could throw herself into his arms. She was sure it was written all over her face.

  His gaze softened as it touched on her, and hope flourished inside her once again.

  “I understand now,” she said.

  “Do you?”

  “Erick found the journals. Your mother and his mother had a secret correspondence inside them. I’m sure he’d let you have them, if you wish to read them.”

  He swallowed, his expression changing. “Perhaps another time.”

  Prim wanted to weep for him, for the pain he must be feeling, but instead, she held his gaze. “What are you doing here, Lachy? This castle isn’t worth a life.”

  “Oh, but it is. Your life.”

  Her breathing hitched.

  “The rest of your life, to be precise.”

  She shook her head, not understanding.

  Lachy chuckled and glanced past her.

  “I’ve come to bargain, duke. The same terms as before. You can keep the castle, and I get Prim.”

  She gasped, but it was drowned out by the roar of shouts from his clansmen, who were shouting and clapping, and raising their weapons. Now that Prim was closer, she could see pints of ale, brooms, and one man even held an oar.

  She shook her head in disbelief. “You’re here for me?”

  Lachy grinned and shrugged. “It’s a brideknapping.”

  “Hold on a moment,” Erick said. “You want to take Prim in exchange for what, exactly? There is no legal recourse for taking back the castle. I’m sorry for what happened. I can’t undo what crueler men did before me, but nor will I let you take Prim against her will.”

  Lachy stiffened. “I wasn’t asking for your blessing, cousin.”

  Weirick pulled his pistol from his waistband. “Excellent.”

  “Wait!” Prim put her hands up, lest anyone start shooting. Then she hurried back to Erick and Weirick. “Put that pistol away. I will go with him,” she said, her head spinning as she said the words.

  “You can’t mean that,” Erick said. “He’s only doing this to punish me.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Adam pulled her out of earshot. “Are you sure about this?” He looked warily at Lachy and tugged on his cravat.

  Lachy straightened as he glared back at him, folding his arms.

  “I’m sure. I’m sorry, Adam. But I can’t turn my back on him again.”

  “He’s quite...broad.”

  “He won’t hurt me,” Prim assured him.

  “He’s a very large man.”

  “Yes,” she said, confused.

  “If you want me to take your place, I will. I’ll sacrifice myself for you.”

  Prim shook her head as she smiled. “That won’t be necessary. I don’t know what he’d do with you.”

  “That’s half the excitement, sweetheart.”

  She slapped his arm. “Go back to the house, Adam.”

  He retreated behind Erick and Weirick, but not inside. He appeared to be enjoying the scene.

  Prim faced her two brothers again. In such a short time, they’d become a close-knit family, but they’d had their own journeys to love, and now it was her turn. They had to accept that.

  “I’m going with him,” she declared.

  Erick looked passed her. “I don’t like it.”

  She wasn’t sure what Lachy had in mind, by taking her like this, but written on her heart were the words he’d whispered while they’d made love, and if he was here now demanding her, it had to mean something more.

  “I’m going with him, regardless.”

  She turned and began to walk toward Lachy, her heart pounding in time with her steps, the distance between then somehow widening and shortening at the same time.

  Chapter 18

  Prim could hear the door open again as she stepped closer to Lachy, but his gaze held her attention above all else. She couldn’t look away from him, even if the entire castle came down behind her. There was something in his expression, a mixture of relief, steely resolve, and what she hoped was more than just desire.

  He briefly looked past her when a commotion of voices suddenly erupted, but then he simply reached his hand out. “I can’t promise you’ll have every comfort Lord Peverel could have given you.”

  Her heart lurched. If only he knew that he was giving her all the things Adam couldn’t. Love, passion, and a family. Those were worth more than all the gold and jewels and silk in the world.

  She took his hand, and he lifted her into his saddle.

  Prim glimpsed her mother and sisters standing beside Erick, their faces frozen with concern. Behind them, Adam stood, grinning.

  Lachy swung up behind her then, pulling her back against him. His breath fanned over her neck as he leaned close to her ear. “Why does your fiancé look so happy to see you go?”

  “Because he is my friend above all else, and he truly wants to see me happy.”

  Lachy didn’t comment as he turned the horse away from the castle. Prim clung to his muscled arm, which held her against him. Her heart was racing like the hooves of the horse as they were swallowed into the night, galloping across the lawn, dodging the hulking shadows of the trees, as if they might give chase.

  She couldn’t breathe. Excitement and anticipation made her efforts to inhale shallow and ineffective. Her head spun as they flew across the land, the lights of the village becoming visible in the distance. He hadn’t spoken at all, but Prim didn’t mind. She was exactly where she wanted to be—wrapped in his arms, held tightly to him, and she didn’t care how or why she’d come to be here.

  He slowed as the black outline of the village turned to buildings, and it occurred to Prim that he’d made it quite clear once that he wouldn’t ever ride again.

  Yet he’d come on horseback to fetch her.

  She turned her head just enough to speak to him over her shoulder.

  “Lachy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Whose horse is this?”

  “Mr. Wilson’s.”

  “But I thought you didn’t ride?”

  “I don’t—or rather, I didn’t, but for this occasion, I had to make an e
xception.”

  Then he reined in the horse and dismounted, reaching up to grab her waist and lift her down. All the while, Prim was still trying to decipher the meaning behind it all: his sudden appearance at the castle, his demand to have her, riding the horse after so many years. She’d thought it because of his injury, but he had proven his capability tonight.

  She hesitated to enquire about why all of this was happening now, and what exactly had changed for him, but she desperately needed to know.

  “Why am I here?” she asked, dragging her teeth over her lip in an effort to keep the tidal wave of questions that wanted to burst forth inside.

  She was so afraid this was all a dream, that her mind was just trying to pacify her wounded heart.

  “You said yes,” he said, his gaze dropping to her lips.

  They stood beside the horse, in the shadow of an empty building, but in the moonlight, she could see his face, and his expression said he wasn’t in the mood for any more questions.

  “I know why I said yes. But I don’t know why you came for me in the first place. I thought—” She swallowed, the old hurt and anger tightening her throat. “I thought you didn’t want me. You made that very clear, earlier today.”

  He brushed a lock of hair away from her temple, his thumb slowly caressing the side of her cheek. The gesture was so tender, her heart throbbed.

  Tha mi gad ghràdh, Prim. His voice echoed in her mind.

  Is his touch another way he confessed his love?

  She wanted to believe that tonight was the result of his loving her, and not being able to leave her, but until she heard the words, her head and her heart were still not in accord.

  She wanted to erase all doubts, but she needed him to do it. She was not going to convince herself. He had to be the one to do the confessing; otherwise, she’d never know if their relationship was real or not.

  “Why did you come with me?” he asked suddenly.

  “Because I love you,” Prim answered simply, her heart pounding. “And nothing will ever change that. If you wanted me, I was going to go with you, no matter what the cost.”

  “Even if it’s the cost of a castle?”

  “The cost of my heart is far more than any castle. Are you going to pay it?”

  He closed his eyes, leaning in until his forehead pressed to hers. “With me life, if I have to.”

  She jumped to her toes then, her mouth crashing against his. His tongue surged inside her mouth, and Prim melted into him, tears stealing past the rim of her lashes. Sheer joy cleaved through her heart, and the love that poured out sealed it together again, healing her, and filling her with brilliant light.

  His arms crushed her to him, and he angled his head, deepening the kiss, lifting her off her feet. Her arms snaked around his neck, and she thought for one fraught second that they’d actually make love here, beside this building, but just as soon as her reckless heart decided that it was a splendid idea, he broke the kiss, and the sounds of riders and laughing men broke through their haze of desire.

  He panted against her neck as he lowered her down. “Will you have me? Will you be me wife and marry me this night?”

  “Tonight?” she asked with a gasp.

  “Aye, tonight. Before me clansmen, you will become me wife, and part of this clan. And I will build us a new castle. The love between me father and mother tore the clan apart, but I want to bring it back together, and I canna do that without you. I canna be whole without you, and neither can me clan.”

  Prim wanted to agree, and technically she already had, but she wasn’t going to exchange vows without hearing him say he loved her.

  “Tha mi gad ghràdh. You said it to me in your cottage. Now tell me again in English. I need to hear you say the words.”

  “I love you,” he said, with a crooked smile. “And you’re right. That’s what I said that night.”

  “I know.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I recognized the words in the journal your mother kept with her sister. Mr. Fagan translated it for me tonight, when we were reading them.”

  He raised his head, his expression stunned. “Then you must not have been very surprised I came for you.”

  “Oh, I was. After reading the journal, I finally understood why you wouldn’t want to be with me, after all that had happened to your family because...of mine.”

  He hugged her tighter and glanced over his shoulder. His men were now on the outskirts of the village, but they were headed away from them. Then he sighed and released her, taking her hand and walking the horse around the back of the building.

  “Tonight I told my men the truth, and like me, they were angry, but I realized something. As much as I had wanted the castle, giving it up has been easy, and I think my grandfather knew it, as well. The people we love are what makes the clan a clan. Not stones, not banners, nor tartan colors. It’s the people, generation after generation, and as I stood there before them tonight, I knew I couldn’t lead them into the future without you beside me.” He paused and turned to her, dropping the reins and cupping her face in his hands. “I love you, Prim. And I want you to be me wife. I want the next generation of Dennehys to come from us.”

  She smiled. “Then I have something to tell you.”

  “You do?”

  “We’ve already begun the next generation.”

  His expression blanked. “What?”

  “I’m fairly sure I’m pregnant.”

  His eyes closed, and then he fell to his knees before her, hugging her middle, whispering words in Gaelic to her stomach.

  “I’m so sorry, Prim. I’d almost turned me back on you and our child.”

  “And I almost married someone else. Let’s not dwell on what almost happened because we were both angry.”

  “And scared,” he confessed.

  She wiggled down between his arms, until she was kneeling in his embrace. “But now we are here, and I believe you were about to marry me?” she asked with a cheeky grin.

  He nodded, and his shoulders slumped, but then he straightened and helped her to her feet.

  “As swiftly as possible, before your pompous fiancé realizes what he’s lost and convinces Ablehill to come and fetch you.”

  “He won’t do that,” Prim assured him. “He was willing to protect my secret, and I was willing to protect his. He is in love with someone else, someone he can’t be with. It’s why he wanted me to go with you.”

  Lachy studied her as she said this, his mouth a hard line. But then his expression changed. “I think I’m beginning to understand now.”

  “He’s my friend, and the only other person who knows I’m with child.”

  “You could—”

  Prim covered his mouth. “Don’t you dare say I should have told you! You left for two weeks, and didn’t bother to even write to me. And then you returned and outright rejected me.” She dropped her hand. “I was frightened, and all alone.”

  He nodded once, his jaw tightening, but he tugged her close again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair.

  She nodded into his chest.

  “Never again,” he said. “I’m not letting you go ever again. Come now.”

  He led her and his horse to the barn. Mr. Wilson greeted them outside, and took the horse. Inside, Lachy’s clansmen waited. The room lit with more candles than Prim could count.

  “We best be quick, before this place catches fire,” he quipped.

  An Anvil had been set at the head of the room and there a weathered old man waited, a toothless grin on his face.

  Lachy introduced her to the man, Shamus, and he kissed her hand in a gentlemanly way. He was by far the oldest person Prim had ever seen, but she decided not to voice that fact. The boisterous clansmen were a bit overwhelming throughout their quick ceremony, but her nerves were also raw from her earlier conversation with Lachy.

  When Shamus read their vows, the room finally went silent. Prim repeated hers to Lachy, her vision narrowing just to him. The glow of
candlelight burnished his hair with streaks of red, and his eyes glowed the radiant blue of a flame.

  He repeated his vows to her, taking something from his pocket when Shamus mentioned placing a ring on her finger. “This will have te do, until I can buy you something better,” he said, tearing a thin strip from his tartan neckercheif and tying it around her finger.

  Prim stared at it in wonder, loving it more than any gold or jewels.

  Finally Shamus pronounced them man and wife, and Lachy took hold of her as his clansmen roared and clapped. She burrowed into his chest, hiding from the noise and attempting to anchor herself against him. Her head buzzed, and all she wanted was to float away. Lachy shouted over the men with little effect, so eventually they decided to escape the room altogether.

  Prim wasn’t sure what would happen next, but as they stepped out into the dark street, the clansmen did not follow, and Lachy hastily escorted her to a house on the edge of the village.

  “Where are we going now?”

  “Well, me cottage has been rented to Mr. Wilson, so I moved back to the home I shared with me uncle after me da died. It’s not very grand.”

  She surveyed the dark cottage as they drew close. “Will we live with your uncle?”

  “No. He took his things to another vacant cottage. He’ll stay there until the new castle is built, and then he’ll return.”

  “Does he not approve of me?”

  “He doesn’t approve of me, either, if it makes you feel any better. He holds too much hate in his heart for that.”

  “For me?”

  “For me da, me mother... He’s a very bitter man.”

  “It doesn’t feel right to displace him like this.”

  “It was his choice,” Lachy insisted.

  When he opened the door, he entered first and lit an oil lamp. The shadows retreated, revealing a small parlor with a cold hearth. The threadbare curtains hanging on the windows did little to add to the comfort of the room. The furniture was also sparse—two chairs by the hearth, and a table for two set by the window.

  “There isn’t much...” Lachy said.