When a Scot Ties the Knot - Page 11/99

Home. This place was as close to a home as Grant could have now.

Logan raised his voice. “Have a look around the glen, lads. Start choosing your sites for cottages.”

“They’ll never let us have this,” Rabbie said. “Are ye daft? It’s been more than eight years since you kissed her good-­bye. This land’s in English hands now. That lass of yours has a father or a brother somewhere who’ll show his face to chase us off, and we’ll be on the next ship to Australia.”

Callum shifted his weight. “Perhaps we should wait to be certain she’ll marry you, Captain.”

Logan squared his shoulders. “Have no worry on that score. I’ll be making certain of it. Tonight.”

Chapter Three

Once she’d reached her decision, Maddie washed her face, sipped some brandy, and readied herself to go out and confront Captain Logan MacKenzie.

She got as far as the doorway—­where he appeared, looking for her.

His gaze swept her up and down, leaving her painted with gooseflesh.

“You look as though you could use some air, mo chridhe. Let’s take a stroll and talk, the two of us.”

“Very well,” she agreed, a bit dismayed that it wasn’t her idea now. She wanted to be in control. Or at the very least, holding her own.

But how could she ever hold her own with a man like this?

Maddie struggled to keep up with him as they walked out of the castle and through the arched stone gateway. His long, easy strides translated to a brisk pace for her.

They emerged from the castle’s shadow into the afternoon sun and walked out toward the loch’s edge. The weather was deceptively cheery—­sunny and warm for April, with a gentle freshness in the breeze. The sky and water seemed to be having a contest to out-­blue one another.

Captain MacKenzie’s eyes bested them both.

“What a bonny afternoon to walk along the waterfront,” he said. “Just like old times, in Brighton.”

“You can stop teasing me. I’m well aware that I was a fool at sixteen. But I didn’t stop maturing when I stopped writing you letters. I’ve grown into a woman.”

“Oh, have you now?”

“Yes. An independent woman. One who manages her own household and affairs. So let us be direct.”

They came to a halt on a small spit of land that extended into the loch like a gnarled green finger.

Heavens, he was so tall. Maddie realized that she was going to have an ache in her neck from staring up at him. She stepped onto a large, flat rock, closing their height difference to a more manageable amount.

Unfortunately, closing that distance only brought her closer to his handsome features and breathtaking eyes.

His attractiveness didn’t matter, she reminded herself. This was not a long-­abandoned dream miraculously come true. This man was not the heroic Captain MacKenzie she’d invented. He was just a soldier who happened to share the same name.

And he certainly wasn’t in love with her.

No, this man wanted something, and that something wasn’t Maddie. If she could learn what his goal was, perhaps she could convince him to go away.

“You said you don’t want money. What is it you’re after?”

“I’m after this, lass.” He nodded toward the loch. “The castle. The land. And I’m prepared to do anything to get it. Even marrying a deceitful English minx.”

At last, here was an explanation she found credible.

Unfortunately, she also found it terrible.

“You can’t force me to wed you.”

“I willna need to force you. You’ll wed me eagerly enough. As you say, you’re an independent woman now. ’Twould be a shame for these letters”—­he pulled the yellowed paper from his breast pocket—­“to fall into the wrong hands.”

He cleared his throat and began to read. “ ’My Dear Captain MacWhimsy. This morning, the dreadful Miss Price came to call. Lavinia is always prodding me for stories about you. Today she asked if we had kissed. I said of course we had. And then of course she had to ask me what the kiss was like.’ ”

As he read, Maddie felt her face growing hotter. The edges of her vision turned a pulsing shade of red. “That’s enough, thank you.”

He went on reading. “ ’I should have said something insipid, like sweet or nice. Or better yet, nothing at all. Instead . . .’ ”

“Captain MacKenzie, please.”

“ ’Instead,’ ” he continued, “ ’this silly, boastful word tripped off my tongue. I’m not certain where it came from. But once it was out there, I couldn’t take it back. Oh, my captain. I told Miss Price our kiss was—­’ ”