Her father raised his eyebrows. "Ver
y agreeable you’ve become all of a sudden, Mr. Drummond." He walked down to stand beside her and fling his brawny arm over her shoulders. "So what do ye think? Shall I give this ruffian a hearing?"
Kirsty blinked away the mist in front of her eyes, while her heart stopped jumping and instead danced a graceful minuet of joy. It gradually sank in that she wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life alone and yearning for Dougal Drummond. Instead, a Christmas miracle had come to pass and he’d returned to her. Even better, he’d returned to her, proclaiming his love. That still struck her as unlikely, but unlikely things happened at this time of year, didn’t they?
"Yes, please, Papa," she said in a choked voice.
"Then let’s get this nonsense out of the way. We have a ceilidh to prepare for."
"My wedding hardly counts in comparison," she said, attempting to match her father’s dry tone, but she was too flustered to manage it.
Her father smiled at her. "Och, I’m no’ sure I’d say that and mean it." He glanced over to where Dougal watched them. "I’m going to go upstairs and get dressed like the gentleman I am. I balk at giving away my daughter’s hand in marriage while I’m in my nightshirt." He paused and glanced down at Kirsty. "And I think ye might prefer no’ to accept this young man’s proposal while you’re wearing nothing but your nightie either, Kirsty girl."
She blushed almost as red as Dougal did when she glanced down at her deshabille. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten that she wasn’t dressed to receive visitors. "Oh."
"I dinnae mind," Dougal said.
Gus gave a grunt of amusement. "I’m gey sure ye dinnae, laddie. But ye can cool your heels in the library for a few minutes, and I’ll meet you when I’m fit to be seen for the Lord’s birthday."
"I can indeed." Dougal smiled at both of them. "I’ll see ye soon, Gus. And, Kirsty, I’ll see you…later."
She couldn’t wait. With happiness flooding her veins and turning the world to sunlight, she whirled around and ran up the stairs to her bedroom to drag out her prettiest gown and make herself presentable to receive an offer of marriage from the man she adored. Christmas was the day of gifts indeed.
Chapter 10
Kirsty waited in the drawing room in a fit of nerves, although she’d longed for this moment to arrive ever since she’d met Dougal Drummond. That was only a week ago. Since that day, she felt like she’d lived through a lifetime.
When she first came downstairs, she stood by the window, wanting to appear winsome and memorable when he came in. Then that started to seem a little artificial, so she moved to sit in one of the chairs near the blazing fire. Soon her skin flushed with heat. She didn’t want to greet Dougal looking like a tomato. She shifted across to stand in front of a cabinet full of Meissen china. But again, the position felt too staged.
She plopped onto the window seat where she folded pleats in her yellow silk skirts for what felt like hours, although when she checked the clock on the mantel, she’d only been in the room for about twenty minutes.
Finally there was a soft knock on the door and Dougal strode in. She lurched to her feet before the idea to rise had entered her mind. All thoughts of posing flew out the window. "What did he say?"
Dougal gave a low laugh and crossed the room to take her shaking hands in his. "That I’m a blockhead for no’ seeing immediately that you’re the girl for me and that, even worse, I’m a selfish swine for hurting your feelings."
Her fingers tightened around his as she stared up into his eyes in dismay. "Oh, dear, that doesnae sound good."
"He’s right. I was horrible to ye." He sounded so contrite, and it really wasn’t his fault.
"I deserved it."
"No, ye didnae. And I’m sorry from the bottom of my heart that I made ye unhappy."
She struggled to summon a smile. "I’ll forgive ye if you do your best to make me happy from now on."
Dougal brought her hands to his lips and kissed them with a fervor that made her heart flutter around inside her chest like a jackdaw trapped in a cellar. "I promise I will." He paused. "And I promised your father I will."
Her smile became a little more secure. "Did that change his mind about permitting ye to pay your addresses?"
"Och, he didnae need convincing on that subject. He told me straight out that if I didnae ask ye to marry me today, I was the biggest dunderhead in Christendom. The scolding came after." His eyes shone with triumph. "He’s ready to call the banns, my darling."
His darling? She still couldn’t get used to these endearments. Every time he called her his darling or his love, she felt like she dissolved into a puddle of syrup. "I’m so glad."
"So am I."
Wide-eyed, she watched him fall to his knees. He was so tall that even kneeling, he wasn’t much shorter than she was. "Dougal…"
"Whisht, lassie. Let me do this right." He still held her hands and he kissed them again, shooting a wave of heat along her arm and straight down to her pounding heart. "My darling Miss Macbain…"