When a Scot Ties the Knot

“Easy, Grant.”

 

 

Grant’s was the saddest tale of the lot. A mortar had landed too close at Quatre--Bras, tossing the giant of a man twenty feet through the air. He’d survived his injuries, but now he couldn’t remember a blessed thing for more than an hour or so. He had a perfect recollection of everything in his life up until that battle. Anything new slipped through his grasp like so much sand.

 

“We’re at Lannair Castle,” Munro explained. The grizzled field surgeon had more patience than the rest of them put together. “The war is over. We’re home in Scotland.”

 

“Are we? Well, that’s bonny.”

 

No one had the heart to dispute it.

 

“Say, Captain,” the big man said. “Will we be making our way to Ross--shire soon? I’m keen to see my nan and the wee ones.”

 

Logan nodded tightly. “Tomorrow, if you like.”

 

They weren’t going anywhere near Ross--shire tomorrow, but Grant would forget the promise anyhow. Most days, Logan couldn’t bear to tell him they’d been to Ross--shire months ago. Grant’s nan was dead of old age, the wee ones had perished of typhus, and their family cottage was a burned--out shell of ash.

 

“Tomorrow would be fine.” After a pause, Grant chuckled to himself and added, “Did I tell ye the one about the pig, the whore, and the bagpipes?”

 

The rest of the men groaned.

 

Logan silenced them with a look. At Corunna, Grant had held off an entire line of voltiguers, giving their company time to fall back. He’d saved their lives. The least they could do was listen to his bawdy joke one more time.

 

Logan said, “Let’s hear it, then. I could do with a joke today.”

 

The telling of it lasted a while, what with several starts, stops, and pauses for Grant to collect his thoughts.

 

When he finally came to the end, all the men joined him in a bored tone: “ ‘Squeal louder, lass. Squeal louder.’ ”

 

Grant laughed heartily and slapped Logan on the back. “A good one, isn’t it? Can’t wait to tell it back home.”

 

Home. This place was as close to a home as Grant could have now.

 

Logan raised his voice. “Have a look around the glen, lads. Start choosing your sites for cottages.”

 

“They’ll never let us have this,” Rabbie said. “Are ye daft? It’s been more than eight years since you kissed her good--bye. This land’s in English hands now. That lass of yours has a father or a brother somewhere who’ll show his face to chase us off, and we’ll be on the next ship to Australia.”

 

Callum shifted his weight. “Perhaps we should wait to be certain she’ll marry you, Captain.”

 

Logan squared his shoulders. “Have no worry on that score. I’ll be making certain of it. Tonight.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Once she’d reached her decision, Maddie washed her face, sipped some brandy, and readied herself to go out and confront Captain Logan MacKenzie.

 

She got as far as the doorway—-where he appeared, looking for her.

 

His gaze swept her up and down, leaving her painted with gooseflesh.

 

“You look as though you could use some air, mo chridhe. Let’s take a stroll and talk, the two of us.”

 

“Very well,” she agreed, a bit dismayed that it wasn’t her idea now. She wanted to be in control. Or at the very least, holding her own.

 

But how could she ever hold her own with a man like this?

 

Maddie struggled to keep up with him as they walked out of the castle and through the arched stone gateway. His long, easy strides translated to a brisk pace for her.

 

They emerged from the castle’s shadow into the afternoon sun and walked out toward the loch’s edge. The weather was deceptively cheery—-sunny and warm for April, with a gentle freshness in the breeze. The sky and water seemed to be having a contest to out--blue one another.

 

Captain MacKenzie’s eyes bested them both.

 

“What a bonny afternoon to walk along the waterfront,” he said. “Just like old times, in Brighton.”

 

“You can stop teasing me. I’m well aware that I was a fool at sixteen. But I didn’t stop maturing when I stopped writing you letters. I’ve grown into a woman.”

 

“Oh, have you now?”

 

“Yes. An independent woman. One who manages her own household and affairs. So let us be direct.”

 

They came to a halt on a small spit of land that extended into the loch like a gnarled green finger.

 

Heavens, he was so tall. Maddie realized that she was going to have an ache in her neck from staring up at him. She stepped onto a large, flat rock, closing their height difference to a more manageable amount.

 

Unfortunately, closing that distance only brought her closer to his handsome features and breathtaking eyes.

 

His attractiveness didn’t matter, she reminded herself. This was not a long--abandoned dream miraculously come true. This man was not the heroic Captain MacKenzie she’d invented. He was just a soldier who happened to share the same name.

 

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