The Highlander’s Rescued Maiden by Anna Campbell
Chapter 18
Ellen was feeling much more capable of confronting her future by the time she’d bathed and dressed. She wore one of Kirsty’s gowns, a green silk that rivaled the extravagant wardrobe her father had given her. To her relief, Kirsty had also lent her some black satin slippers that were only a little too big.
A maid had helped with her toilette, washing the salt from her thick hair and brushing it dry in front of the fire. When Ellen checked the mirror, she was relieved to see an elegant young lady, not a raggle-taggle beggar who looked like she’d been wandering across a stormy heath.
“There, miss. By heaven, you’re a bonny lassie.” Betsy slid a last pin into the flattering mass of curls she’d piled high on Ellen’s head. The girl had a touch with hairdressing that Susie, Ellen’s maid on Bortha, had lacked.
Not that the tower contained anyone likely to appreciate a becoming coiffure. Whereas tonight, Ellen was only too aware of the need to impress Will’s cousins.
She stared into her face, seeing fear, but also the stirrings of hope. She also saw how she’d changed from the pale, withdrawn creature she’d been before Will’s arrival. Her blue eyes contained a knowledge of love that was lacking a week ago.
“Thank you, Betsy.” Ellen liked the girl, who hadn’t reacted at all to her ungainly descent into the bath. Perhaps Will was right, and the contempt her limp had sparked in her father’s house wasn’t the universal reaction.
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” Ellen said, expecting Kirsty or perhaps another of the maids.
Will strode into the room, turning Betsy all goggle-eyed with shock.
“Mr. Mackinnon,” she said, curtsying and blushing, although whether at the arrival of a man in an unmarried lady’s bedroom or at the magnificent sight he made, Ellen couldn’t say.
Ellen had only ever seen Will dressed for the outdoors. Or not dressed at all. In a formal black velvet jacket with silver buttons and a kilt in green and gold, colors she assumed were the Drummond tartan, he took her breath away. His long hair was tied back in a queue, and the snowy-white jabot under his chin emphasized his chiseled jaw.
“I require a few moments of privacy, Ellen,” he said. “If that’s agreeable to ye.”
“Of course.” She turned to the maid. “Ye may go, Betsy. Mr. Mackinnon will show me to the dining room.”
The girl cast a curious glance between Ellen and Will before she curtsied again and left. Ellen was sure that her unannounced arrival on Askaval was already subject to speculation belowstairs. If Betsy spread tales of Will invading Ellen’s bedroom, the gossip would be unstoppable.
Once they were alone, Ellen rose and stepped toward Will. The first unself-conscious movement she’d made in this house. “You’ll scandalize the household.”
His laugh held that warm note that she began to think he kept just for her. “My reputation will never recover. Now, come and kiss me.”
How could she resist? Propriety could go to the devil.
Because of his humor, she didn’t expect the passion that exploded between them. By the time they drew apart, they were gasping and Ellen was dizzy with pleasure. Then she realized what they’d just done and where she was.
“Will, if my hair is a mess, I’ll never forgive ye. Betsy worked on it for hours.” A slight overstatement, but it made her point.
He passed a critical eye over her. “No, it looks perfect. In fact ye look perfect.”
“Thank you. It’s all thanks to Kirsty.” Kirsty hadn’t just been thoughtful enough to send a selection of dresses, but petticoats and stays and a sheer linen shift with pretty blue cornflowers embroidered across it. And perhaps most welcome of all, she’d sent up a tray of tea and savory pastries and cake. Ellen had fallen on the food with a gusto that would have appalled the waif of her legend. “The way I looked when I arrived, she must have wondered just who you’d brought to her house.”
“Och, Kirsty is a tolerant soul. And clever besides. I suspect she’s already worked out most of the story.”
Will’s arms encircled her in a loose embrace. Leaning back against his forearm, she studied that striking face. She noted the marks of weariness – neither of them had slept much over the last few nights, and he’d had a hard day’s sailing since – but also the determination. Even despising the myth of Fair Ellen of the Isles, she couldn’t help feeling that it reached a suitable conclusion.
In the end, a hero had rescued her.
“You know you shouldnae be in here,” she said, wishing she sounded like she meant it.
“I’m starting to miss the tower.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “There I only had to worry about ye shooting me.”
“And my father’s guards.”
“Och, they didn’t frighten me half as much as ye did. Kiss me again, Ellen. It feels like a century since I last held you in my arms.”
“Oh, Will,” she whispered, helpless against her love for him.
This time, the kiss sent her floating up toward heaven. When she came back to earth, he was sitting in an armchair by the fire and she lay in melting surrender across his lap.
When she surveyed him with dazed eyes, she couldn’t help giggling. And giggling was something foreign to her former solemn self. “I’ll have to call Betsy back.”
He inspected her with bright hazel eyes. “You’re looking a little ruffled, but quite acceptable.”
“You’re no’.” She reached out and combed her fingers through the rich auburn hair falling about his face. “You look like a Highlander of old.”
By the time the next bout of kissing came to a halt, she too cursed their lack of privacy. “I’m so glad ye stopped by, but it’s been an awfu’ long time since breakfast.” Despite the refreshments, Ellen was famished. “Shall we go downstairs?”
His expression turned serious. “I didnae just call in to kiss you, Ellen.”
Puzzled, she stared at him. “What is it?”
His voice lowered to a rumble, as it always did when his strongest feelings were engaged. “I think I should stand up to say this.”
She scrambled off his knees and stared down at him. “Will, you’re making me nervous.”
“I need to talk to ye before we meet Kirsty and Dougal again.” He rose more slowly than she had. “That’s why I invaded your bedroom and let propriety go hang.”
He still sounded uncharacteristically stern. But Ellen reminded herself that she’d gambled so much on trusting him. She had to keep trusting him.
Leveling her shoulders, she met his eyes. They glowed with familiar radiance. That was reassuring. “Propriety has had little to do with what we’ve done together.”
To her relief, faint amusement entered his gaze. “For which I’m very grateful. If I’d met ye in the ordinary course of things, we’d have managed a few polite chats over tea or perhaps a walk in the rose garden. All under a chaperone’s beady eye.”
She noticed he didn’t mention dancing, but put the thought away before it could smart. “If you’d wanted to court me.”
The amusement deepened, placing attractive creases around his eyes. “Och, I’d have courted ye, lassie. Never doubt it.”
“I’d have liked that.”
“Aye. We havenae done anything in the normal way, which is why I’m trying to do this part right.” He ran a hand through his curtain of hair. “And making a fair dog’s dinner of it, too.”
She stared at him wide-eyed. As she held out her hands, expectation and hope tangled together in her stomach. An incoherent prayer formed that she didn’t mistake what this meant.
When he took her hands in a firm grip, her heart crashed against her ribs. “What…what are ye trying to do, Will?”
Her heart gave another of those disconcerting lurches, as he dropped to his knees before her. His gaze didn’t shift from hers. He looked intent and grave. And a little unsure of himself, which buttressed her confidence. As a rule, Will Mackinnon wasn’t subject to self-doubt. Most of the time, she approved of his assured attitude to even the thorniest issue, such as whether her father’s guards were likely to shoot them. But right now, she liked that he didn’t seem too sure about what she might say.
“Ellen… Miss Cameron…”
She refrained from pointing out that she hadn’t been Miss Cameron to him since their earliest interactions. His grip on her hands tightened, as if he feared she might run away. Silly man, didn’t he know she was just where she wanted to be?
Will swallowed, and she saw his Adam’s apple bob. More appealing uncertainty. She liked that he didn’t take her answer to his proposal for granted. This had to be the overture to a proposal. Not even someone as unworldly as she was could be wrong about that.
“Ellen, I want ye to feel no obligations toward me. I ken we havenae been together long and that you fear you have no real choice in what happens next. But I swear on every one of my gallant Mackinnon ancestors that if you’d rather make your own way, I’ll see you have the means to do whatever you wish. Ye might prefer to pursue your writing and research in Edinburgh. Or London even. Ye might want to travel. I didnae help you to escape from Bortha just so you became a prisoner once again.”
She bit back a protest. Because she realized that he was only answering the objections she’d made on Bortha. Back when she’d let fear convince her that she was better off in her lonely tower than committing herself to this splendid man.
“That’s…that’s very good of ye, Will,” she said, wondering why he imagined that she remained that frightened creature. He’d accused her of being a prisoner in her mind as much as physically. He’d been right. But when she set sail at Will’s side, she’d cast aside her shackles.
He shook his head. “It’s no’. It’s only fair.”
For a fleeting instant when she came to Askaval, she’d wondered what would happen to her if Will decided he didn’t want her. Now she paused and took time to consider what he offered. So many of the things that she’d never dared to dream about when she was confined on Bortha. Independence. A chance to find her own way. A life dedicated to scholarship.
Once, before she’d met Will, they might have tempted her. No longer. Instead everything sounded like more loneliness. And if she married him, she was sure she could do most of those things anyway.
When he’d fallen to his knees, she’d prepared for declarations and promises. She supposed that what Will had said counted as both. He gave her a choice, because he knew that choice had been a rare luxury.
“I…revere your generosity,” she said slowly. “But what you’re saying doesnae require you to kneel before me.”
Will didn’t smile. He was on edge, although after what they’d done and said, he must guess that she’d like nothing better than to become his wife.
“The other offer I mean to make does.”
Ellen had to fight not to smile and kiss him and say yes, yes, yes. After all, he hadn’t yet asked the important question. Her voice was steady. “Then perhaps ye should make it.”
“Ellen, I love ye. I want to spend my life with ye.” At last he smiled, turning her wayward heart to sugar. “Will you do me the great honor of marrying me?”
“Will…”
He went on before she could finish her answer. “I promise that nae woman in Scotland will be more cherished. I promise that ye have my heart now and forever. I promise that come what may, my first loyalty will always be to you.”
Will stared up into her face, eyes golden and glowing. She swallowed to moisten a dry mouth, and her fingers tangled in his as if she never meant to let him go.
She didn’t. He was hers. She was his. On Bortha when he’d proclaimed her as his destiny, he was right. From the moment he’d climbed up her tower, her fate was sealed.
Ellen didn’t note the lengthy silence until the light in his eyes dimmed. “My darling? What do ye think?”
She realized that she stared at him, dumbstruck with joy. Which meant she hadn’t yet answered him. Although she couldn’t think why he’d doubt her response.
A great lump of emotion blocked her throat. It took her a few seconds to clear it.
Because she was happy and because Will had taught her that laughter could enrich any moment, she dared to tease him a little. “I was wondering if ye had any more of those wonderful things to say.”
“I’m sure I could find some.” He paused and narrowed his eyes at her. “Do I need to?”
Ellen gave a choked laugh. “No. But it was nice to hear them.”
“No, because the answer is no?” From his face, she saw that he already knew what her response was. She wasn’t alone in liking to tease.
“This isnae the first time you’ve said that you want to marry me.”
“Aye, I knew what I wanted almost from the beginning. But I dinnae think I ever got around to phrasing the idea as a question.”
She gave a low chuckle. “No, as I recall, you were a wee bit more autocratic than that. It’s lovely to hear the words and have a chance to express my approval for your plans.”
“And ye do approve?”
She lifted their joined hands and kissed his knuckles with all the love crammed into her heart. When she raised her head, the impulse to amusement had evaporated. Instead her soul overflowed with love and thankfulness.
“The answer is yes. How could it be anything else? I love ye, Will. That will never change. Take me home to Achnasheen, and let’s be blissfully happy for the rest of our lives. I cannae wait.”
His expression flared into burning exultation. If ever she’d questioned his love, she never would again. His clumsiness as he stumbled to his feet betrayed his overwhelming emotion.
“My forever love,” he sighed, as he swept her into his arms for a dizzying kiss.
