The Highlander Is All That (Untamed Highlanders #4)(79)

When he saw her, his features tightened and her heart jerked.

Then he started toward her with a determined stride. Straight toward her, cutting a swath through the crowd without a care.

He stopped right before her and stared at her with red-rimmed eyes. “Elizabeth.”

“Hamish.” A whisper.

It was enough for him. He bent and whipped her into his arms and strode toward the garden doors.

“I say,” Granger said, but he did not follow. Probably because the Duke of Moncrieff took his arm and whispered something to him with a smile.

But that was the last thing Elizabeth saw before they passed into the cool night air.

Hamish didn’t stop until they reached the lovely fountain in the center of the garden. He set her down gently and stared at her.

“You’re lovely.”

“Thank you.”

“Elizabeth . . .” He seemed to struggle for words. His expression was desolate.

She could not let him suffer like this. Gently, she set her hand on his cheek. “I know, Hamish. I know. I love you too.”

He frowned and she suspected she’d stolen his thunder, but he was not dissuaded. “I love you more than life itself,” he said harshly. “You have to believe me. I canna live without you. I doona want to.”

“I know.”

His frown deepened. “There is no one but you. No one. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“And as far as the duke is concerned—”

“It’s all right, Hamish.”

“It’s no’. You need to know. None of that matters to me. No’ if I canna have you. Please believe me.”

“I do, Hamish. I do.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Because I love you the same way. I do.”

He kissed her then, softly, sweetly. And then it grew to something more. Something she had missed for weeks and weeks. “Darling,” she murmured.

He lifted his head and stared at her, his love shining though his eyes. “Darling.”

“I’m sorry I was so childish,” she said with a grin.

“I’m sorry I was a buffoon.”

“Never say it.” She reached up onto her toes and kissed him again, her heart full, swelling with love and joy and— “Ahem.” It was impossible not to recognize that voice.

Reluctantly, Elizabeth turned around to face none other than Lady Jersey, who had a starchy expression on her face. She stood with Aunt Esmeralda, the Duchess of Moncrieff, and the Countess of Darlington.

Oh, lovely.

Four dragons of the ton. And she’d been caught, once more, in flagrante delicto.

It was becoming something of a habit.

Somehow Elizabeth didn’t much care. She offered them all a wide grin, and everyone but Lady Jersey grinned back.

“You, my dear,” the maven announced in stentorian tones, “have been thoroughly compromised.”

“A pity that,” the duchess said with a tsk. “You shall have to be married now.”

The countess offered a wink. “Indeed. But by all good fortune, the Archbishop of Canterbury happens to be playing cards in the salon.”

“Ah, providence,” Esmeralda gushed.

“We shall have him issue a special license at once,” Lady Jersey said. “We shall finally have you married, once and for all, Miss St. Claire.”

“That we shall.” Kaitlin tried to look stern.

As did Helena. “Indeed. Tomorrow at the soonest.”

Then the four of them whirled around and swanned back to the ballroom.

But Lady Jersey paused, glanced back at them, and murmured, with a flicker of her fingers, “Do carry on.”





Epilogue


Anne fell in love with Scotland on sight.

That she had Ranald at her side probably had a lot to do with it, as well as the fact that her entire family had made the move to the Highlands together. They’d closed up Sinclair House and left London once and for all.

Hamish hadn’t wanted to travel once he’d discovered the news about Elizabeth’s tender condition—she’d thrown up on him, actually—but Elizabeth had insisted she was fine and couldn’t wait to start their new life. Their wedding at St. James’s had been attended by the entire ton, which was directly attributed to the Duchess of Moncrieff and Lady Jersey, both of whom had touted it as the event of the season and not to be missed.

Aunt Esmeralda had been in her glory.

Though she seemed excited about the move to Scotland as well. At least Anne hoped she was excited about the move. But it could have been the fact that three of her four nieces were—at this very moment—preparing to provide her with grandnieces and nephews. She was over the moon about that as well.

Victoria and Peter were the only holdouts, because they planned to marry in Scotland so Peter’s sister, Catherine Mackay, could attend the wedding.

It was all so very delightful.

“You’re smiling,” Ranald whispered into her ear as they trundled along in the last leg of their journey.

“Am I?” Anne squeezed his hand. “I’m just pleased at how everything turned out.”

“I am gratified to hear it.” His lips were warm on hers.

Ah. She loved him.