Epilogue

The Scottish Highlands near Loch Ness

October, 1892

Strolling hand in hand along a lazy stream on the grounds of Dunnhaven, Gerard’s ancestral home, Evelyn glanced down at the gold band on her finger. The sight never failed to trip her heart.

After he’d set forth his intention to court her, he’d wooed her with an intensity that quite literally had swept her off her feet.

Not that he’d needed to woo her—not really. She’d loved him quite thoroughly and irrevocably long before he’d dropped to one knee in full view of the wedding guests. Still, his courtship had been heady and passionate, and she’d savored every minute, until the impetuous moment scarcely six weeks after Bonnie’s wedding, when he’d suggested they run off to Gretna Green.

They’d exchanged their vows on a snowy winter day. The white-capped mountains provided a majestic backdrop to the intimate ceremony attended by family and a few of their dearest friends. Upon the spring, they’d embarked on a whirlwind tour of the Highlands. Gerard had declared his love not only for her, but for his homeland and its people, and he’d wanted to share that passion with his bride.

His bride.

When Evelyn had fled that cramped little milliner’s shop, she’d never dreamed the oh-so-handsome man she’d eyed so boldly was the love of her life. How very fortunate she’d been—they’d been—to find each other.

Now, walking peacefully with Gerard, they enjoyed the quiet moment. After a fortnight in London visiting Evelyn’s family and friends, the bucolic beauty of the Highland countryside proved a tonic for her weary senses. How she savored the quiet flow of the clear, blue water against the stones in the creek bed and the clean, fresh, pine-scented air. The wooded mountains to the north of the main house had transformed to a sea of red and gold and orange, the rich hues of autumn. From time to time, she and Gerard would return to London. She’d never lose her taste for the grand old city. But this lovely haven was now her home.

Gerard’s hand glided over her hip. His fingers splayed over her middle, possessive and loving. Desire coiled deep within her, pulsing with an intensity that grew with each beat of her heart.

Fate had brought them together. From the first, she’d been drawn to him with an instinctive knowing—somehow, deep within her, it was as if her soul had recognized his and had yearned for a connection neither could deny. Her heart had led her to Gerard and a love that she’d forever cherish.

Reaching up on her tiptoes, she brushed an impulsive kiss against his cheek.

His arms encircled her in response, caging her against him in a wickedly passionate, thoroughly delightful embrace.

He kissed her, a leisurely caress, stimulating her senses, kindling her hunger for him. Always for him.

“Shall we be very wicked?” she teased against his lips.

“’Til the end of our days.” He grinned, even as his eyes flashed with desire. Suddenly, her feet no longer touched the ground as he swept her into his arms. With long, sure strides, he carried her toward the privacy of a shaded glen.

“We may very well start a bit of scandal,” she pointed out pragmatically.

Gently placing her on a quilt he’d laid out in anticipation of this moment, he stretched out beside her. “My dear wife, with ye in my arms, I shall ever more look forward to scandal.”

She traced her fingertip along the contour of his bristle-covered jaw. “I anticipate a deliciously wicked passion.”

His eyes grew dark with an emotion far more powerful and enduring than desire. The adoration she saw in their depths left her breathless. She drew him close, kissing him before she whispered against his lips, “Oh, Gerard, how I love you.”

He held her in his arms, studying her, as if he’d discovered something quite precious and rare.

“For years, I’ve searched for treasures. And now, I have found the greatest of them all… I love ye, lass. Always. Forever.”

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