Page List


Font:  

When she’d married Dougal, she hadn’t realized what a powerful family he belonged to. For a start, he’d grown up in an actual castle, not to mention that the chieftain of the Drummond clan was responsible for hundreds of his kinfolk.

His father had been rather forbidding to a new bride, but she’d come to love him just as he’d come to love her. Dougal’s transparent happiness in his new life had soon helped John accept his son’s young wife. Her mother-in-law, Kate, however, had welcomed Kirsty from the beginning, and the two had quickly become fast friends.

Dougal gave a low laugh. "Aye, we dinnae stand on ceremony here. In case ye hadnae noticed."

She snickered at the sly reference to the day he’d arrived on the island. "That’s the Macbain way, my love."

The fiddlers played the introduction to another reel. Across the room, Kirsty watched Gus bow to a widowed Mackinnon aunt and present his arm. Aha, now that was interesting. Her father was always in his element at the Christmas party, and he looked happy and proud as he led the lady out onto the floor.

He’d been delighted when Dougal married Kirsty, and the comings and goings between the families this last year had provided him with a host of new acquaintances. She knew he’d been lonely since her mother’s death. It was only when she saw how his spirits revived with fresh company that she realized quite how lonely.

Dougal slid his arm around her waist. "Your father seems to like Aunt Rachel."

Kirsty shouldn’t be surprised that he guessed her thoughts. Their swift affinity when they met had grown to an almost uncanny level since they wed. "Aye. That’s the third time he’s danced with her."

"I think she likes him, too." Kirsty looked up at her handsome husband, elegant in his formal Drummond green and yellow kilt and his black velvet jacket with silver buttons. His rich red hair was tied back in a queue. A year of marriage had added maturity to his features, but his male beauty was still powerful enough to make her weak at the knees.

"Can I tempt my bonny wife to another measure?" That brilliant smile could still make her feel giddy, too.

Although perhaps tonight the giddiness wasn’t entirely because she was mad for the man she’d married.

"Later." It was nearly midnight, but the Christmas ceilidh always continued past dawn. "Come outside. I have a fancy to kiss my lord and master under the stars."

An inquiring auburn brow tilted in her direction. "Lord and master, is it?"

She batted her eyelashes at him. "Of course."

His sardonic laugh warmed her blood. Because their year together hadn’t entirely been smooth sailing. With two such stubborn people joined in wedlock, there had been a few contests of will, as they worked out how they meant to go on. So far, honors were about even, and by heaven, Kirsty did love it when they came together to reconcile after an argument. That was always breathtakingly exciting.

"I cannae take the prettiest lass at the party away from her admirers."

"Och, Dougal, go on with ye."

"It’s true. Have I told ye how well that gown becomes you?"

"You have, but ye may tell me again."

The purple silk with Brussels lace trimming was one of the extravagant dresses she’d bought in Paris on their wedding trip. Gus wasn’t the only one whose horizons had expanded this last year. When Kirsty met Dougal, she hadn’t been further afield than Edinburgh. Now she’d visited London and France, both of which she’d loved, but privately thought were nothing to compare to her lovely island.

"But then ye look marvelous in everything you wear. Even breeches."

"I’ll get back into those, after your parents leave for Bruard. They think ye married a civilized lady and not a shocking hoyden."

He pressed a kiss to her ruffled black hair, caught up in a mass of curls on her crown. At the start of the night, the style had been the height of sophistication, but the energetic dancing had dislodged a few of the pins holding it secure.

"I love my shocking hoyden."

"And I love my gallant knight," she said softly, staring up into his gleaming blue eyes.

The dancing started again. "Are ye sure you dinnae want to join in?"

"Next one. Let’s sneak away now while nobody is paying attention."

"Very well." His smile turned roguish. "I never say no to a kiss in the dark."

She gave a splutter of amusement. "Ye never say no to a kiss anywhere. No’ to mention the rest."

To her delight, he blushed. His fair skin still betrayed him. "Ye ken I have an awfu’ powerful hunger for the headstrong lass I married."


Tags: Anna Campbell The Lairds Most Likely Historical