"Nineteen."
"It seems daft that we’re only discovering these details now."
She reached out to take his hand. "We already know the important things."
"Aye," he said in a voice rough with emotion. "Or at least we’re finding them out."
"How did ye know how to…" This time, she was the one blushing. "I’ve listened to the women talking. I’ve heard enough to know that I found a pleasure with ye that no’ every woman does when she lies with a man."
That was a great relief. He’d been sure – well, almost – that she’d enjoyed what they’d just done as much as he had. It seemed he was right. God bless instinct. Instinct could take a man a long way, it seemed. And not just instinct. Women weren’t the only gossips when it came to bed sport. He’d heard plenty of talk over the years. At least some of it had helped him please his beloved.
"Och, Kirsty, you’re embarrassing me."
She carried his hand up to her lips and kissed his knuckles. The tender contact shuddered through him like thunder. "No, tell me."
"I dinnae ken. Ye have a very expressive face, and I paid attention to what pleased you. Then I just did more of that." He slid his arm around her so she leaned on him instead of the heaped pillows. "In fact, I cannae believe I didnae guess after that first night that ye were doing your best to scuttle my boat. You’re no’ a very adept liar, my love."
"I dinnae do it very often," she said uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes, although he was pleased to note that she didn’t try to move out of his embrace. "I dinnae think I ever told a lie, until I was so frantic to keep ye on my island. Or at least no’ about anything important. When I was a bairn, I lied about climbing a dangerous tree and about stealing some shortbread. It did me nae good. Nobody ever believed me."
Dougal gave a grunt of amusement. "I’m no’ surprised."
She looked directly at him at last, although to his regret, she returned to the subject of his lack of experience as a lover. "But how on earth have ye escaped a visit to some lassie’s bed? The first time I saw ye, I wanted you. Do ye no’ ken how beautiful you are, Dougal? You’re like a hero out of a story."
After what he’d just done, he should have lost the ability to blush, but Kirsty’s extravagant praise had his face burning like the sun again. "Away with ye, lassie. Men cannae be beautiful."
"Ye are, Dougal Drummond." Her gaze sharpened. "Girls must have pursued ye. For pity’s sake, I pursued ye."
His arm tightened around her shoulders. "And I’m gey happy ye caught me – or I caught you. I dinnae think it matters either way."
He saw the last of her doubts fade away. "I’m glad ye feel like that."
"So am I." Then because he felt her curiosity pressing at him, he struggled to explain. "I’m the laird’s son and the heir to all the Drummond lands. I have responsibilities. I cannae run around the glens at Bruard, tumbling lassies willy-nilly. It would upset my family, no’ to mention the crofters. It’s the same at Achnasheen, where I’m my cousins’ guest. And that’s not all, by God. If I show too much interest in any local girl, she gets excited about the idea of becoming the lady of Bruard. I’m a red-blooded laddie. I willnae say I never had an itch for a lass, but I didnae like any of them enough to make one my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted to marry, Kirsty."
A rueful smile turned her lips down. "Me, and Fair Ellen."
"Och," he said in a dismissive tone. "Who needs Fair Ellen when I’ve got Bonny Kirsty?"
Amusement sparked in her eyes. "Nonetheless I’ve spent most of the week wanting to tear every hair from her lovely head – if she exists for me to torture, that is."
He settled his beloved more comfortably against him and relaxed back against the bedhead. There was something deeply satisfying about lying in bed in a warm house, while it was so cold outside. Even more satisfying when he had the woman he loved curled up beside him.
"If she exists, she’s going to have to wait for some other gallant blockhead to rescue her. My rescuing days are done."
She didn’t smile, although he’d hoped she would. "Will ye mind giving up your dreams of performing great deeds?"
Dougal caught her chin in his hand and tilted her face up for a tender kiss. He met that glowing silver gaze and spoke from the depths of his steadfast heart. "Winning ye is a great deed. I have a feeling that when I settled my sights on that mythical lady on Innish…"
"Or Canna or Pabbay."
"Or Hyskeir or Inch Kenneth – or Greenland, for that matter." He couldn’t resist stealing another quick kiss. "Anyway, I think I set out on my quest because it was time for me to break free of home and its restrictions. I love Bruard, and I’ll be proud to lead my clan when the time comes, although I hope that’s no’ for many years yet. I love my parents and my tribe of brothers and sisters. But there’s a devil of a load of pressure on a laddie to toe the line and act the gentleman and provide a good example."
She rubbed her cheek against his chest. "But ye are a good example."
"Mo chridhe, dinnae spoil it. Here I am, thinking what a wild and reckless rogue I’ve become, stealing my bride away and seducing her before we’ve said our vows to the minister. Aye, I’m a scoundrel of the first rank, I am."
She giggled, and the silly feminine sound was so sweet coming from forthright, capable Kirsty Macbain that Dougal drew her up for a more thorough kiss. He had to get her back to her father well before tonight. He’d already risked scandal enough. It seemed he wasn’t quite the devil-may-care roisterer he claimed to be.
But it was early. They had time