That radiant smile curved his lips. She’d never seen him look more beautiful. "You, Kirsty Macbain."
The answer struck her like a blow, stole her breath, stopped her heart, deprived her of the ability to speak. She gazed lost into that wonderful face as her sleep-deprived brain struggled to make sense of events.
"Me?" To her shame, the question emerged as a pathetic squeak. She raised a shaking hand to her throat, where her pulse pounded like a metronome set on presto.
"Aye, you." A hint of uncertainty crept into his expression, dimmed the bright smile. "That is if you’re willing to give me a fair hearing after the things I said to ye last time we were alone."
Kirsty tried to swallow to shift the jagged lump of emotion clogging her throat, but every drop of moisture had dried from her mouth. She blinked to bring Dougal back into focus and realized she’d forgotten to breathe.
She gulped in a mouthful of air, swallowed again, and managed a few raspy words. "I’ll hear ye." Then she realized that Betsy was still standing in the hall, watching with wide eyes – and no doubt listening with flapping ears. "Betsy, I think your mother needs your help in the kitchen."
"Aye, Kirsty." She cast another look between Dougal and her mistress before she turned with visible reluctance to go. "Merry Christmas."
Kirsty frowned. She’d forgotten what day it was. "And merry Christmas to ye, Betsy."
Dougal’s gaze remained unwavering on Kirsty as Betsy left them alone. "Merry Christmas, my love."
Another fusillade of shock and disbelief crashed through her. Dougal called her his love? Had the world turned topsy-turvy overnight? She must be still dreaming. "But what are ye doing here?"
His eyes were telling her impossible things, things like he loved her, and he meant to stay, and he wanted her, and he was sorry for breaking her heart. She licked her lips and told herself to settle down. The rising bubble of happiness inside her could so easily burst and leave her even more devastated than she’d been yesterday. She’d already made enough of a fool of herself over this man.
He leaned one elbow on the base of the banister. "I’ve come to talk to your father."
"My father?" Kirsty frowned, wondering if she had indeed got everything wrong. Again. "What has my father got to do with anything?"
When a soft laugh escaped Dougal, was she insane to hear fondness in the sound? Last time he’d spoken to her, he hadn’t been fond of her at all. He’d treated her as if she was lower than a worm. "Och, Kirsty, you’re usually quicker than this. Why else would a young man want to talk to a lassie’s father, except to ask permission to court his daughter?"
"C-court?"
He laughed again, and despite everything a ripple of pleasure ran through her. She’d always loved the sound of his laugh. "Lassie, I never thought to see ye lost for words. Aye, that’s what a laddie does when he’s desperately in love with a girl. He asks her to marry him."
"But ye dinnae want me."
His jaw firmed with familiar stubbornness. "Aye, I do."
"Ye didnae want me yesterday." Why on earth was she arguing and not falling to her knees in gratitude that he was here?
"I did."
"Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it," she said sharply.
"That’s because ye fell in love with a beef-witted looby, mo chridhe. But I’m no’ a beef-witted looby anymore. I think I fell in love with ye at first sight, but my attention was fixed on a will-o’-the-wisp across the distant horizon. Nae wonder I stumbled when it came to navigating my way around what was right in front of me."
Love at first sight? Did Dougal just say he loved her? Her knees turned to porridge, and all the breath left her body in a whoosh. Her grip on the banister tightened to save her from crumpling to the ground.
"Ye were so sure you didnae love me." Her voice lowered to a guilty mutter, because he’d been right to despise her. "And I did ye such wrong."
He regarded her as if he’d lived in darkness all his life and she gave him his first sunrise. In all her dreams – and there had been so many – she’d never imagined Dougal Drummond looking at her like that. Her mind counseled caution. Her heart ignored the warning and began to expand with hope. Could it be that everything might work out? When she first saw him, she’d suffered the foolish conviction that he was the only man for her. Was it possible that conviction wasn’t so foolish at all?
"No, ye did me such right." His certainty started to convince her that he meant what he said, astonishing as that was.
Kirsty shook her head, not because she wanted to deny what he said, but because what he said tested her credulity. "But ye were so angry with me. What changed? What brought ye back to me? I spent the night crying into my pillow, because I was sure you’d left hating me and that I’d never see ye again."
"I’m sorry."
"I lied to ye over and over."
"Och, my dear, I’ve forgiven ye. I forgave ye before I sailed a mile away from Askaval."