"You’re no’ getting into the proper spirit of this, lassie." He shot her a disapproving glance down his long, straight nose. "I’ll have to work harder."
"You’re chivalry personified."
"That would be a pity, when I’ve given up all ambition to play Sir Galahad."
They left the woods and crossed the grassy headland above the beach. "Is that so?"
"Aye. You’re in the hands of a ruthless pirate."
She’d had a moment of thinking him a pirate. It hadn’t lasted. "Ye dinnae have to steal me away at all."
"You’re no’ offering me much of a challenge, Kirsty." His disappointed sigh was no more convincing than his buccaneer act. When he climbed a rise, she saw what she expected to see. The Kestrel pulled up on the beach below them. "I set off from Bruard, vowing I’d rescue a maiden from an island and make her mine. By hook or by crook, that’s just what I intend to do."
Odd how the reference to Fair Ellen didn’t sting. It always had before. "I dinnae need rescuing."
"That’s what ye think." He hitched her higher in his arms and descended the brae to the small beach.
Kirsty didn’t protest when he set her on the seat in the narrow stern with a gentleness that would disgrace any genuine pirate. Nor did she make any attempt to escape when he pushed the boat into the water and jumped in. Why would she? She was exactly where she wanted to be.
The Kestrel rocked wildly as he came aboard, and she placed her hands on the gunwales to keep her place. This side of Askaval was usually useless as an anchorage because of the prevailing winds, but since the storm on Christmas Eve, the winds had changed direction. The winds had changed direction for her, too, and promised to blow fair, when two days ago, she’d predicted nothing but dismal weather ahead.
"Where are ye taking me?"
He set the sail. Her beloved really was a pleasure to watch, large and graceful and competent. She shivered and wrapped his cloak more tightly around herself, but her trembling had more to do with anticipation than with the teasing breeze. Because he wasn’t the only one who hungered for time to explore their love.
Before he came to sit beside her, Dougal removed his hat and set it safely under the seat. He took the tiller, while his other hand held the rope that controlled the sail. "I told ye. I want to get ye alone."
She curled her hand around his brawny arm. Even through several layers of clothing, she felt his radiant heat seep through into her skin.
"Papa will worry. Perhaps we should stay on Askaval and help clean up after the ceilidh. Ye can kidnap me this afternoon after we’ve had our dinner."
He frowned at her, although the sparkle in his eyes made her giddy heart skip around like a spring lamb. "You’re a gey practical captive, lassie. Are ye no’ one bit nervous?"
"Should I be?"
"Perhaps ye should wait and hear what I’ve got in mind. Any sensible girl would be beside herself, by God."
"I’m brave enough to face anything ye can bring."
"I know ye are, Kirsty." And for the first time that day, laughter didn’t edge his deep voice. "Also I might just have told your papa that I was taking ye out for a sail and no’ to expect us until this evening."
Definitely Sir Galahad rather than a pirate, but she kept the observation to herself. Although perhaps Sir Galahad with a naughty spark in his eye, now she looked at him more closely. "He’ll think we’re up to something."
"And he might just be right."
She had a moment to digest that. At last, she felt a twinge of genuine disquiet. "Dougal…"
"We’ll talk about it when we get there, mo chridhe." His brilliant smile soothed her fears, although it shouldn’t. She’d never seen a man more intent on wickedness. "Now hold tight while I steal ye away to my lair."
"I cannae wait." She already had an idea of where they might be going. A scattering of small fertile isles surrounded Askaval, unpopulated except in summer when the islanders ferried their sheep across to enjoy the rich grazing. These isles were the secret behind Askaval’s famously flavorsome and tender lamb.
He gave another theatrical sigh. "Your cooperation is spoiling what I’d hoped would be an exciting story to tell our bairns, mo chridhe."
More anticipation rushed through her blood. "Bairns, is it? That seems rather a long step from where we are now, my arrogant laddie."
This time, he smiled at her with a sweetness she’d never seen before. Her heart flipped over and turned to sugar. How on earth could she resist him?
"Aye, well, we have a lot of talking to do and