Logan hunched at the prow of the small rowing boat as it moved almost silently through the dark waters, making slow but steady progress towards Castle Creag. The moon was rising but had not yet cleared the hill and they stayed close to the bank, within the shadows, although the risk of detection was not their only reason for keeping to the edge of the loch: there was a very real fear that the skiff might not be watertight.
They had found the boat upside down and abandoned beside the fisherman’s bothy, two sets of oars stored tidily beneath. They had placed her in the loch immediately and by the time the moon had risen sufficiently for them to set off she had not shown too much sign of leakage. Nevertheless, Logan had ordered Tamhas and one other of his men to bring the horses and follow as far along the bank as they could.
Trying not to think of sinking, Logan kept his eyes fixed on the castle. The white pennant still fluttered, catching the moonlight. It was not until they had left the shadows and were rowing directly towards the teeth-like rocks guarding the castle that he saw something else below the window. At first it was merely a grey smudge against the darker walls. Only when they drew closer could he see the figure, pale arms clinging to some unseen rope and swinging precariously against the castle walls.
‘By heaven, Ailsa! She is climbing down.’ He knelt up in the prow, every sense alert. ‘Faster, lads. Row faster!’
They were cutting through the water, heading towards the promontory, and he could only pray that the skiff did not catch on some sharp and unseen rock submerged beneath the water. The castle loomed above them and the men lifted their oars, allowing the little boat to drift closer until it was scraping on the tumbled boulders. Logan jumped out and scrambled over the rocks to the base of the castle. The descending figure was just out of his reach, feet scrabbling and failing to find purchase on the rough wall.
‘Ailsa, let go,’ he called up to her. ‘Let go, I will catch you.’
He barely had time to brace himself against the wall before she tumbled into his arms. He was winded, but he held her tight, dropping beneath her weight to sit on the narrow ledge. He hugged her to him, his eyes closed, not quite believing what had happened.
‘Logan?’ She wriggled in his arms. ‘Is it really you?’
He opened his eyes and gazed at her, his throat too constricted to speak. When he loosened his grip, she raised one hand and laid it against his cheek. He turned his head to plant a kiss in her palm.
‘Yes, it is I,’ he murmured, his voice ragged.
She buried her face into his shoulder. ‘Oh, how I prayed you would come!’
Her words were muffled, but they made his heart swell.
‘And I prayed I would find you.’ He wanted to sit here for ever with her in his arms, but there was more to be done. He said, ‘We must move. Are you hurt?’
‘A few scratches and bruises, that is all.’
‘Truly, is that all?’ He held her away from him, straining to see her in the darkness.
‘Truly, I am unharmed.’
Relief overwhelmed him and found expression in an angry outburst.
‘Then why in heaven’s name did you risk your life climbing out of that damned window?’
A shudder ran through her. ‘Because of what he s-said he would do.’
Anger gripped Logan. A cold rage against the man who had taken her, but it must be subdued, controlled. At least until Ailsa was safe.
‘Can you walk?’ he asked her.
‘I believe so.’
To prove it, she extricated herself from his grasp and rose to her feet, shaking out her skirts.
‘We need to get you into the boat.’ He jumped up and took her hand. ‘The rocks are slippery, but my men will help you.’
Logan held her firm as she stepped off the ledge and moved with care over the tumbled rocks. Below her, one of the men was holding the boat steady against the rocks while a second had clambered out and was reaching up towards them.
‘If the lady would give me her hand...’
Logan did not want to let go but he knew he must. He relinquished her hand and held his breath as the men helped her into the skiff. Once she was safe he followed quickly and soon they were moving almost silently away from the castle.
Ailsa shivered uncontrollably as the boat skimmed across the water. She could not quite believe that she had managed to climb down from the window. She had clung so tight to the plaid that her fingers ached with the effort and she opened and closed her fists to ease the joints. Her elbows and knees were hurting where she had grazed them on the rough stone and she relived the panic she had felt when she realised there was no more plaid beneath her, that she would have to drop into the darkness.
She had still been summoning up the courage to let go when she had heard Logan’s voice, as if she had conjured him by sheer force of longing. She heard it again now, as he put his jacket around her.
‘Here. There is a cloak for you, but it is still strapped to my horse, so you must wait until we reach the shore for that.’
‘Thank you.’
Her hand came up and covered his where it rested on her shoulder. His grip tightened, sure, comforting, and it was that as much as his jacket that eased her trembling.
They reached the shore and Logan swept her into his arms. He carried her through the shallow water to the bank, where Tamhas and his companion were waiting for them with the horses.
Logan set Ailsa on her feet, but kept a grip on her.
‘I must know, I must be sure,’ he muttered. ‘It was Cowie who snatched you from the shieling, was it not?’
‘Yes.’ She gave a slight nod of her head and he glanced back at the castle.
‘Is he in there?’
‘No. Only the two women who he paid to guard me. Ewan has gone back to Contullach.’ She added bitterly, ‘To help in the search for me.’
‘Then the sooner I get you back to your uncle and you tell him the truth, the better.’ He turned to his men. ‘I do not want anyone to know how she escaped, so we had best sink the boat.’
In the near darkness, someone laughed. ‘The wood is so rotten that won’t be difficult.’
They watched the skiff disappear beneath the inky black water before mounting their horses. Ailsa rode with Logan, sitting across the saddle in front of him with her head on his shoulder. She felt very safe, wrapped in the promised cloak and held secure between his strong arms.
She said, as they set off, ‘Fingal will believe this was your doing.’
She felt Logan’s scornful huff reverberate through his body. He said, ‘Cowie tried to make out that was the case, but your uncle is no fool. Rather than laying siege to Ardvarrick, he came to talk to me. It was he who told me where I was most likely to find you.’
She gave a tiny gasp of outrage. ‘If he knew, why did he not come after me himself?’
‘He suspected, but could not be sure.’
‘And if he had accused Ewan falsely it would cause a rift.’ She nodded sagely. ‘Fingal dotes on Kirstin and she will admit no fault in her betrothed.’
‘But not only that. Your uncle is growing old. He knows many of his people look to Cowie as their next leader. I think he feared he would lose their support.’
‘That is possible, sadly. Ewan attracts the young hotheads to him, those who would rather rule by fear and violence.’
‘Most of them will change their minds when they see the advantages of working with a neighbour rather than against him.’
Logan spoke calmly, but inside his anger against the man simmered. For all that he wanted peace with his neighbour, he knew he would be sorely tempted to put a sword through Ewan Cowie when he next saw him.
They rode through the night, making the most of the moonlight until their route took them through the trees, where the thick canopy of leaves obscured the sky and they were obliged to stop. Then they slept until dawn.
Unlike Ewan when he carried her off to Castle Creag, Logan saw no need to hide away during the daylight hours but even so Ailsa knew they would be obliged to spend another night on the road. Their route took them through a long, winding pass where they came upon a small homestead that sold them butter, cheese and oatcakes to eat once they stopped for the night.
‘There is a shepherd’s hut in the glen yonder,’ said Tamhas, pointing away into the distance. ‘It is only a little way off our route.’
Logan nodded. ‘Very well, let us try it.’
They were fortunate to find the hut empty and settled down within its walls with their supper. ‘We will collect fresh bracken and heather for you to lie upon and you shall sleep alone in the bothy,’ Logan declared, when they had eaten.
Ailsa felt a little shy in the company of so many strangers and did not argue, but when they had fashioned her makeshift bed and Logan sent them all outside, she felt obliged to remark that it seemed a little unfair for her to have the hut to herself.
‘It is a dry night and we will come to no harm outside,’ he told her. ‘We all have our plaids to keep us warm.’
‘Even you,’ she murmured.
‘Even I.’
His smile made her heart beat a little faster. When he bent and kissed her cheek she closed her eyes and fought down the urge to reach out for him.
‘Sleep now, Ailsa.’
He went out and she wrapped her cloak about her before making herself comfortable on the makeshift bed. She could still feel the touch of his lips against her cheek. Such kindness from a man she barely knew.
In my heart I have known him for ever.
She closed her eyes, smiling at such foolishness. Logan Rathmore was doing this as much to clear his name as to help her, but that did not lessen the warm glow that spread through her when she thought of him.
Even in the height of summer the Highland nights could be cold, but Logan was warm enough, wrapped in the thick plaid. The exertions of the last few days had taken their toll and he fell asleep quickly, only to wake with a start a short time later. At first he thought it was the light of the rising moon that had disturbed him. Then he heard it again. A whimper from inside the bothy. Ailsa was dreaming. He lay very still, listening to the soft sounds. She was talking in her sleep, although he could not make out the words. He frowned as she became increasingly distressed, but when she cried out he could resist no longer. Gathering the plaid around him, he scrambled to his feet and went to the door.
Inside the hut there was enough moonlight to show him that Ailsa had thrown off her cloak and was thrashing restlessly on the bed. She appeared to be struggling with some unseen enemy. Logan knelt beside her, catching her hands and holding them between his own.
‘Ailsa, hush now. You are safe.’
At first, she fought against him and he was obliged to speak again before she roused enough to open her eyes.
‘You were dreaming.’
‘A nightmare. I was so afraid.’ She dragged her hands from his grasp and reached for him. ‘Hold me, Logan!’
He took her in his arms, holding her close while she shook with terror. He rested his cheek against her hair, ignoring the small pieces of bracken and heather that had become tangled in her curls. At last she stopped trembling and her breathing steadied, but when he tried to release her, she clung to him.
‘Stay with me!’ Her whispered plea struck Logan like a knife, slicing through his determination to protect her honour and behave like a gentleman. To steady himself, he breathed deeply, inadvertently filling his head with the scent of her. It reminded him of the open moors, of fresh breezes and sunshine, but it did nothing for his resolve to move away.
Ailsa wound her arms about his neck and pulled his head down to hers. ‘Kiss me.’
‘Ailsa—’
‘Don’t leave me now, Logan.’ Her breath was warm on his cheek, fanning his senses, arousing him as much as the warm, soft body pressing against him. Dear heaven, how he wanted her! He had always wanted her, from that very first meeting.
Her lips brushed his. ‘I need you to kiss me.’
Logan gave in to his desire. He kissed her, gently at first, but her eager response shattered his self-control and put all sensible thought to flight. He lay down with her and gave himself up to the embrace, measuring his length against hers, the blood singing in his veins as the kiss deepened and her body moulded itself to his. When at last he raised his head, he was shaking and breathless. Ailsa stared up at him, her face pale in the moonlight, her eyes black pools that threatened to drown him. He drew in another ragged breath.
‘Ailsa, I must go.’
‘No, please, stay.’ She reached up and cupped his face. ‘I want you to stay with me.’
He closed his eyes, hoping he might defeat this temptation if he could not see her.
‘That is not possible, sweetheart.’ He tried to make light of it, although he had never been more serious. He said, ‘If I stayed, I should want to do more than kiss you.’
‘I know. I understand that and—’ her voice was hardly above a whisper as she went on ‘—I would like that, too.’
He was undone. His iron will liquified when faced with the double assault of her words and her beseeching look. Still he struggled to withstand the desire raging through him.
‘Please stay.’
The quiet plea and the way she moved her body against him was slicing through the final shreds of his resolve. He must give her one last chance to save herself.
‘Tell me to go before it is too late,’ he muttered. ‘Tell me to go and I will leave you.’
‘But I do not want you to go.’
Her arms slid around his neck and she began to cover his face with quick, urgent kisses. He was almost lost.
‘Oh, Ailsa, there can be no going back from this!’
She gave a shuddering sigh. ‘I do not want to go back, Logan. I want to be with you. Always.’
Always! His heart swelled and soared as he heard her. She should have her wish. He could think of nothing better than to have her at his side for ever. He wanted to tell her so, but he could not speak, he could not think of anything except the delicious ecstasy of her touch and the desire blazing in him. He could only manage a few, final words before their lips met for another explosive kiss.
‘With my body, I thee worship...’
Ailsa opened her eyes. The silence and the grey light coming in through the unglazed window told her it was not yet dawn. She was wrapped warmly enough, but not in the noisome blanket of her prison. And she was not alone. This was Logan’s plaid and he was beside her. They were both naked, but she could not recall undressing. All she could remember was the comfort of his arms, the taste of his kisses and the feel of his hands roaming over her skin, bringing her body alive.
Contentment filled her. A feeling that she was complete. She turned to watch him as he slept, noting the dark lashes, the strong nose and sensuous mouth. This was where she should be. Where she wanted to be, wrapped together with the man she loved.
Love! Ailsa gazed at the sleeping man beside her and was filled with wonder when she thought of what had happened between them. She had given herself to him and he had rewarded her with such ecstasy as she had never known before. Even her music had not afforded her such pleasure.
The thought of losing her music sent a trickle of fear running through her newfound contentment. Logan stirred and looked at her.
‘You are still here,’ he murmured. His dark eyes warmed her, dispelling the momentary panic. ‘I thought you were a dream.’
She smiled at him. ‘No, I am here.’
He pulled her close and kissed her and she felt again the delicious ache deep inside. He ran his hands down her back, cupping her bottom and pressing her against his body. He was hard, aroused and a little shiver of excitement ran through her.
‘Afraid?’ His eyes searched her face anxiously. ‘Did I hurt you last night?’
‘Oh, no,’ she disclaimed quickly, afraid he might move away from her. She saw the relief in his eyes.
‘Sometimes, for a maid, I believe it can be frightening. The first time.’
‘Not with you,’ she told him, blushing. ‘I did not know anything could be so, so wonderful.’
His smile grew and he pulled her closer.
‘Then perhaps we should do it again, before we get dressed.’
Grey skies accompanied them on the final part of their journey but Logan barely noticed. His heart was singing as he rode with Ailsa sitting before him. She was safe and she was his. A joyous laugh bubbled up and a line from Robert Herrick came into his head.
Thou art my life, my love, my heart
It would be more correct to say that he was hers!
When Tamhas came alongside, saying he thought they would reach Contullach by dusk, he corrected him.
‘We are not going to the castle. I am taking Ailsa directly to Ardvarrick. She will be safer there.’
He heard a gasp from Ailsa, but she waited until Tamhas had dropped back before speaking.
‘You are taking me to your own house?’
‘I am. Did you not say last night you wanted to be with me, always?’
‘Yes, but...’
He murmured in her ear. ‘Surely you did not think I could let you go, after what occurred last night?’
Her reply was cautious. ‘I believe men say many things they do not mean when they are in the throes of passion.’
Logan laughed. ‘What a strange mixture of wisdom and innocence you are, Ailsa McInnis! That is true, but I am not the sort of man to bed a maid and then leave her. No, I will put you into the care of my housekeeper and you shall live at Ardvarrick until I can arrange everything with the minister. We shall be married—’
‘Married!’
Her evident shock made him smile.
‘Aye, what else should we do? It is very likely our companions have guessed what occurred last night, although we may be sure of their discretion. If you agree, we shall be wed with due ceremony at Ardvarrick, as my parents and grandparents were before us. As my lawful wife you shall have the full protection of my name and my fortune.’
Ailsa listened, hardly daring to believe what Logan was saying. Could he truly wish to marry her? Could he really love her? His next words brought the dream crashing down.
‘We shall invite everyone to celebrate with us afterwards and you shall play your clàrsach for our guests!’
‘Oh, Logan, no!’
‘But of course you must, I love to hear you play. I am very proud of your talent, it is part of who you are.’
‘But I c-cannot.’
Her misery increased. It was her musical ability that he loved and she had forfeited that for a moment’s passion.
‘What is it, sweetheart, what have I said to upset you?’ Logan was looking at her in concern. ‘If you do not like the idea of playing at your own wedding, then you need not do so.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied quietly.
He took one hand from the reins and hugged her. ‘Pray do not upset yourself,’ he said, kissing her cheek. ‘I know how much you love your harp and I thought you would wish to play, but it is of no matter. There will be plenty of time for music when we are wed.’ He stopped. ‘Ailsa? You are very stiff, very silent. What is wrong?’
She could not bring herself to tell him that she could no longer play for him. Not here, where she could not study his reaction when he learned the truth. She shook off the dark thoughts and glanced back with a smile.
‘Nothing is wrong, nothing at all, save that this is all so sudden.’
‘My poor sweeting, what a time you have had of it! First you are abducted and locked in a castle and then, when you have been free for barely a day, I expect you to make decisions about our wedding.’
‘Yes, how very unkind of you to propose to me in this fashion.’
She managed to give a little laugh. It sounded hollow, but she hoped Logan would put that down to exhaustion, after all she had gone through.
They rode on in silence and Ailsa’s mood grew ever more gloomy. She had given herself to Logan quite freely and she could not regret that. Last night the choice had been so simple, her desire for him had far outweighed any thoughts of the future. There had been no question of holding back when her whole body had been screaming for his touch, but she had loved him, too. She realised now it was quite different for Logan. He liked her, yes, he found her attractive, but it was her music he loved.
What would he say when she told him she could not play the harp ever again? And she must tell him, she could not allow him to marry her without knowing the truth. He would be angry that she had deceived him and she would face that. They must be honest with one another, whatever the consequences, and she feared the consequences for her could be grave indeed.
If Logan decided he no longer wished to marry her, she did not know what she would do.
As the day wore on and the weather improved, so did Ailsa’s spirits. Riding with Logan, sitting before him and with his arms keeping her secure, the future did not look quite so bleak. She would tell him she could no longer play the clàrsach, but she did not need to do so just yet. She would wait and convince him that she could be a good wife in all other ways, then perhaps he would still wish to marry her. It was a risk, but she thought it worth the attempt. After all, what else was there to be done?
His arms tightened. ‘Was that a sigh, Ailsa?’
‘Only a little one.’ She leaned against him, taking comfort in the solid wall of his chest against her back and yet already feeling like a fraud. ‘I was reflecting upon how good you have been to me, risking your life to rescue me, taking me to your home. I do not deserve you, Logan Rathmore.’
The humble note in her voice plucked at Logan’s heart and he dropped a kiss upon her hair.
‘Hush, sweetheart, I am no saint, I promise you.’ He lowered his voice. ‘If I was, I would not have taken advantage of you last night.’
She trembled against him and, although he could not see her face, it was easy to imagine the blush painting her cheeks.
‘You did not take advantage of me, I begged you to stay with me.’ She twisted around towards him, saying urgently, ‘I did not do it to trap you into marriage, Logan, please believe me. I would never do that to you.’
‘I never thought it, lass, you may be easy about that.’ He used one arm to pull her closer while he stole a quick kiss, then said with mock severity, ‘Now stop wriggling. You are fretting my horse and he will unseat us both if we are not careful!’
Obediently she turned back and Logan settled his arms more securely around her again. They were travelling over Ardvarrick land now and he could relax his vigilance a little and consider the situation. He had spoken true, Ailsa had not trapped him, but by giving in to his desire he had committed himself to a marriage. It was not what he had planned and he almost laughed aloud when he thought of how he had considered returning to England to see the widowed Lady Fritchley. He knew now that what he had felt for her had been calf love, little more than infatuation. It was nothing compared to what he felt for the woman riding with him today. He no longer dreamed of celestial blue eyes and guinea-gold curls, he was not interested in a society that talked of nothing but the latest gossip and fashions and had nothing to do but enjoy themselves.
He glanced down again at the red-gold head just below his chin. If Ardvarrick and everything else was to disappear this very moment, he would not care. This woman was his world. He needed no other.
It was evening when they arrived at Ardvarrick and Ailsa’s first thought was that the house was on fire, but it was the setting sun making the windows blaze with light. When she had ridden here in the autumn, to warn Logan about Ewan Cowie, she had seen only the grandeur of her surroundings. Now she tried to take in every detail of what could be her new home.
Ardvarrick House was charmingly situated against a backdrop of a wooded hillside and it was approached by a short, curving drive. The house itself had two rows of large windows that looked across the meadows to the sea loch. More windows pierced the stepped gables of the two wings and a series of ornamental chimneys rose from the roof. It was as different from Contullach as it was possible to be and Ailsa loved it.
Logan dismounted by the shallow steps leading to the door and reached up to lift Ailsa down.
‘Can you stand, or shall I carry you?’
‘I can walk perfectly well, if you will give me a moment.’
But she was obliged to cling to him. After riding for so long her legs felt very weak, but she would not suffer the indignity of being swept up into his arms in front of his household.
‘Take as long as you wish,’ he told her.
Keeping one arm around her, he handed the reins to Tamhas and ordered the others to go on to the stables.
‘There you are, Master Logan. I was looking out for you.’
Ailsa looked up at the sound of the soft voice and saw a grey-haired woman in a black stuff gown hurrying down the steps.
‘This is Norry, my housekeeper,’ Logan told Ailsa. ‘Although she prefers me to call her Mistress Noranside when she is angry with me!’
‘Now you stop your teasing, Master Logan, and bring the young lady inside. Poor thing, she looks worn out. Come along in, both of you. I have some broth ready and perhaps a piece of chicken, mistress, if you are up to it.’
Ailsa allowed herself to be shepherded up the steps and into the hall, where Logan released her.
‘If you will take Mistress McInnis with you and look after her, Norry, I have matters I need to attend to.’
‘But of course, Master Logan!’ Mrs Noranside took her arm. ‘Come along, we will wait for the Laird in the drawing room. Bless you, my dear, there’s no need to be afeared, he’ll be along soon enough. And you are perfectly safe in this house, no one will harm you here.’ She chuckled as she gently urged Ailsa forward. ‘Oh, yes, mistress, the master told me all about it before he left. He said how you had been carried off and that he was going to find you.’
‘He—he did?’
‘Aye, and I’d have had a bedchamber ready for you, too, if he had sent word of when he meant to return! Heaven bless you, I confess I did not expect him quite so soon. Why, I only had time to tell Shona to run up and prepare a room when I saw you walking up the path.’
‘But he said he would bring me here?’ Ailsa pressed her.
‘Not exactly, but I could see he was in a rare taking over you, so he’d want to keep you under his eye once he had you safe. Master Logan has few secrets from me, you see. I looked after him until he went off to school and then, when he was no longer in need of a nursemaid, I stayed on to be housekeeper here. And he has never forgotten his old nurse. Even when he was on his Grand Tour, he found time to write to me.’ As she talked, she led Ailsa through the hall to the drawing room, where a cheerful fire was burning.
‘I know it is summer, but the evenings can be chilly here and a body feels it more, I find, after a long journey. Come and sit here in this armchair, my dear, and I’ll fetch a tray for you and the master and you can eat in here, before the fire.’
She chattered on, settling Ailsa in her chair and bringing a stool for her feet before bustling away and leaving Ailsa with only the sound of the crackling fire to keep her company. She closed her eyes. She felt quite bewildered by the events of the past few days and not least by the fact that she had been spirited into this luxurious house.
If she needed anything to remind her that Logan Rathmore was out of her reach, it was Ardvarrick. She remembered visitors to Contullach telling her uncle that his neighbour’s new residence had been built for a gentleman. And Logan Rathmore was a gentleman, she knew that. He was cultured, educated and, while she could read and write, and keep accounts, she knew nothing of the world. Nothing of his world. How could she possibly make him a good wife?
‘My poor love, you are exhausted.’
Her eyes flew open to find Logan smiling down at her. He bent and kissed her brow.
‘I would carry you to bed this minute, but Norry says your room is not yet ready. Besides, she will be bringing a meal to us any moment.’ He knelt beside her, taking her hands in his firm, warm grasp. ‘I have sent word to Contullach, telling them you are safe. First thing in the morning I will visit the minister. To ask him to marry us. He may wish to call upon you here, to speak with you. Would you mind that?’
He had changed out of his travelling clothes and was now wearing a brown wool coat over a russet-coloured waistcoat and breeches. She guessed he would call it plain country wear, but it was a stark contrast to her own gown, which bore the ravages of her ordeal.
She bit her lip. ‘You do not have to marry me, Logan. In fact, I would r-rather you did not.’
He looked at her, brows raised. ‘Now, what is this, are you rejecting my offer? Am I so repulsive to you?’
He was making light of it, but that only added to her confusion.
‘No, no! It is just that...’ She paused, deciding how best to explain. ‘Your life has been so...so different to mine. You have lived in Edinburgh and seen London. You have travelled on the Continent. I have not been further than Skye.’
He smiled at her. ‘And that is somewhere I have never been.’
‘It is not just that.’ She bowed her head, her cheeks on fire with mortification. ‘I...am not your equal.’
Silence followed. Ailsa gently disengaged her hands and clasped them tightly together in her lap. She expected Logan to walk away from her. Instead he sat down on the footstool.
‘Ailsa, look at me. Look at me. Both the Rathmores and Contullachs can trace their lines back generations, perhaps even to the Lords of the Isles, if legend is to be believed. As Contullach’s niece you are equal to me in birth, if not in fortune, so let me not hear any more nonsense about that.’
The look in his dark eyes was grave, but not unkind.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, ‘But there is more. I am unused to society’s ways. I... I do not want you to be ashamed of me.’
‘I could never be ashamed of you, sweetheart.’
Logan saw that she was not convinced and he took her hands again. They trembled in his grasp and he squeezed her fingers.
He said gently, ‘I have been away for ten years, Ailsa. There is much about living here that I do not know or have forgotten. Your knowledge will be invaluable to me. We have much we can teach each other.’ He pulled her hands to him and kissed them. ‘Now—’ he smiled at her ‘—do you think you could put up with me as a husband?’
He saw her eyes widen and a tear trembled on her lashes.
‘Oh, Logan, I will marry you, if you are sure it is what you want. And I promise you that I will do everything in my power to be a good wife to you.’
He pulled her close and kissed her. ‘You have made me the happiest of men! I—’
Logan broke off as Norry came bustling in with a supper tray and ordered him to place a little table beside Ailsa’s chair. He complied, resigned to the fact that it was beyond him to make a declaration of love in front of his old nursemaid.
They shared a light supper together. Ailsa was almost too tired to eat, but Logan coaxed her to take a little soup and a glass of wine. When a serving maid came in to remove the dishes, he ordered her to send Mrs Noranside to him.
‘You need to sleep,’ he told Ailsa. ‘Norry has prepared the yellow guest room for you and she will help you undress.’ He pulled her to her feet and into his arms. ‘Much as I would like to take you to my own bed, the people here look to me for an example. I am afraid that we must be models of propriety until we are lawfully wed.’
He kissed her then, in a fashion that was anything but proper, and she responded instinctively. Her bones melted as their tongues danced together and when he raised his head she lay passively in his arms, her head thrown back against his shoulder, gazing up at him. His eyes were blazing and she did not doubt he wanted her as much as she wanted him. She put a hand to his cheek.
‘I cannot believe I deserve the good fortune of becoming your wife.’
‘You deserve far more,’ he murmured, brushing her lips with his again.
Her body responded immediately, but they were interrupted by the opening of the door. Ailsa felt the blood rushing to her face, but Logan was not a bit put out. He smiled down at her, his eyes glinting.
He said lightly, ‘Here is Norry interrupting us again. This time to take you up to bed. Sleep well, my dear, and I shall see you in the morning.’
Ailsa was conscious of a small stab of loneliness as she left the drawing room. She was aware of a disappointment, too. Her body yearned for Logan to hold her, to kiss and caress her as he had done in the shepherd’s hut. He had said he wanted her in his own bed, but if that was so, if he wanted her as much as she wanted him, could he be so restrained?
Her observations of the men at Contullach—and her own experience with Ewan Cowie—told her men were unable to control their passions. She had also heard that English society was rife with scandalously licentious behaviour. Could Logan Rathmore be so very different? She thought it more likely that, having bedded her once, his lust for her was sated, but he felt honour bound to marry her.
With such a tangle of emotions and ideas running riot in her head, Ailsa accompanied the housekeeper up the stairs to the yellow guest room, a delightful chamber, prettily decorated in straw satin and flowered chintz.
‘Now, I have searched out one of my nightgowns for you,’ said Mrs Norris. ‘It will be far too big, but better than nothing for tonight. Once I have helped you into bed, I will fetch up a cup of hot chocolate, or would you prefer a little more wine?’
Ailsa had never drunk hot chocolate, but she liked the idea of a warm drink and said so. Mrs Noranside beamed at her.
‘My late mistress loved her chocolate and I was always partial to a cup, too, which Master Logan remembered and he brought me a supply when he returned home last year. Such a thoughtful boy he was and he hasn’t changed a bit!’
In no time Ailsa was sitting in bed, propped up against a bank of soft feather pillows and Norry was pressing a cup of hot chocolate into her hands.
‘Now, you drink that, mistress, and I will sit here with you until it is finished.’ She pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down, folding her arms across her ample bosom.
‘Oh, please, I do not want to keep you,’ Ailsa began, but the housekeeper stopped her.
‘Whisht, now, you are keeping me from nothing, mistress. Tomorrow I will send up Shona to wait upon you, but tonight I wanted to look after the lady my master has set his heart upon.’ Ailsa’s eyes flew to her face and Mrs Noranside beamed at her. ‘It does my own heart good to see the young Laird about to marry at last, that it does.’
‘He has told you?’ Ailsa blushed. ‘And you do not object?’
‘Object? Bless you, mistress, what have I to say to anything? Master Logan is his own man and will go his own way, as he always has.’ The old woman settled herself more comfortably in her chair and smiled at Ailsa. ‘I cannot think that anyone at Ardvarrick will object, mistress. We shall all be glad to see him settle down with a good Highland lass.’
Here in this cosy room, nestled against the soft pillows, Ailsa was beginning to feel more comfortable. She even felt she might broach a subject she dared not put to Logan. She chose her words carefully.
‘It surprises me that the Laird of Ardvarrick has not married before now.’
‘Aye, well...there was talk of a lady. In England. Daughter of an earl or some such, but it came to nothing.’
‘Oh.’ Ailsa plucked at the sheet. ‘When was this?’
‘Let me see, it must have been four, five years ago. Master Logan wrote to his father about it. That set the household by the ears, I can tell you!’
Ailsa sipped her chocolate, but its warmth could not reach a sudden cold spot in her heart.
‘Was—was he very much in love with her?’
The housekeeper shook her head. ‘Nay, ’twas no more than a boyish fancy, which was fortunate, for his parents were not at all happy to think of Master Logan coming home with a wife they had not even met!’
Ailsa stared at the covers, the chill in her heart growing. If the old Laird and his lady had been upset at the thought of an earl’s daughter, what would they think of her?
She asked, ‘What happened?
‘In the end it all came to nought and the lady married someone else. Which I can now see is a good thing, because the master has fallen in love with you, my dear!’
Ailsa paid no heed to the last part of the housekeeper’s speech. She could not bring herself to believe Logan truly loved her. Perhaps he was the kind of man who fell in and out of love easily.
She said now, ‘Did you learn why it came to nothing? Was his suit rejected? Or perhaps he realised he had mistaken his heart.’
‘He never gave a reason, and if he had told the mistress I should have known about it, believe me.’ Norry rose and took the empty cup from her hands. ‘In any event, Master Logan has never mentioned the matter since. Well, it was years ago, now. I expect it is all long forgotten.’ She smiled and said comfortably. ‘First love never lasts, eh?’
Ailsa kept silent and settled down to sleep, but it nagged at her that Logan should have wanted to marry someone else, even if it was five years ago. And as for first love, Logan was her first love and she was as certain as she could be that it would last for ever.