Never Kiss a Laird (26 page)

“Certainly,
but explanations can wait until the morning.”
 
Hugh demurred.
 
“I must return my
godmother to her room.
 
I will call upon
you and the Viscount in the morning.”
 

“See that
you do,” she snapped, determined that one way or another that special license
would be put to use in two days’ time.

Hugh bowed,
and with a final, apologetic glance at Sally, he shepherded his furious
godmother from the room.

Lady Waverly
turned at the last minute, and caught the caressing smile that Sally gave to
her disgraced lover.
 
“You two should be
ashamed of yourselves.
 
I don’t know
which one of you is the worse, but I begin to think that you suit each other
perfectly.”

Sally and
Hugh exchanged a conspiratorial look.
 
“I
begin to thing so, too,” the Earl murmured.

Chapter
Twenty-One

The moors were a riot of early
summer wildflowers, nature’s last display before the landscape would once again
resume
it’s
stark, autumnal splendor.
 
Just now the countryside was covered with
purple heather, blue harebells, and dotted with white and yellow mountain
avens
.
 
A blush of
starry moss
campion
gave a pink glow to the edges of
the moors, and beyond, clouds of yellow gorse reflected the warm sunlight.

The Earl and Countess of Kane
dismounted, tying their mounts, Rufus and Beauty, to a convenient bog myrtle
branch.
 

Hugh pulled a small leather satchel
from Rufus’s saddle, and slipped his arm around Sally’s waist as they wandered
through the scented countryside.
 

“Did Mrs. White send a
picnic?”
 
Sally asked
,
looking at the bag Hugh carried.
 
“She
has been over-feeding me shamelessly ever since we were married.”
 
She thought for a moment,
then
commented hopefully, “Actually, I am a bit
peckish
.
 
Did she send sandwiches?”

“No,” he replied evasively.
 
“It’s something I brought along.”

Sally gave him a quizzical look,
but forbore to question him in the pleasure of gathering a bouquet of wild
flowers.
 
The sun was hot, and bees
buzzed lazily around them, gathering nectar for the thick dark honey that Mrs.
White supplied every morning with Sally’s scones.
 

By the time she had gathered an
armful of blooms, Sally realized that they had wandered quite a ways from the
horses.

“Should we head back?” she said
reluctantly.

“Just a little further,” Hugh
urged.
 

Sally was puzzled, but as she
looked around herself she realized they were very close to the caves Hugh had
played in as a child.
 
“Where are you
taking me?” she asked suspiciously.

Hugh merely smiled and took her
hand, pulling her behind him as he climbed the gentle rise up to the cave in
which they had sought shelter during the thunderstorm.

Entering the cool, dark cave, Sally
looked around in wonder.
 
Someone had
arranged candelabras on every flat surface, and the little cave glowed with the
reflection of hundreds of candle flames.
 
In the center of the cave a bed had been positioned.
 
The posts at the four corners were so tall
they almost touched stone at the top.
  
Sally was a little perturbed to see that her best Battenberg lace
bedding adorned the inviting bed.

She turned to look at her
husband.
 
“How on earth did you
accomplish all this?” she asked a little accusingly.
 

“We have unfinished business in
this cave, my lady,” Hugh grinned.
 

“Hugh McLeod, if there is a maid’s
dress in that satchel,” Sally threatened, trying not to smile, “I will march
right out of this cave.”

Hugh laughed out loud, clapping a
hand to his forehead.
 
“How did I forget
that?”
 
He dropped the bag he carried on
the end of the bed, and scooped his wife up in his arms, gently setting her on
the bed.

Sally felt the familiar reaction to
his proximity that three months of marriage had only intensified.
 
She watched him open the leather satchel and
pull out a velvet-covered box.
  

“Sally, we did not have a
conventional courting,” he began.

Sally smiled tenderly at her
husband.
 
“No, we definitely did not.”

“We became lovers before we even
knew each other.”

Sally grinned.
 
“I was, after all, a fallen woman.”

Hugh chuckled.
 
“Well, if you weren’t before we met, you
certainly were thereafter.
 
But
everything happened out of order, and I never gave you an engagement ring.
 
I would like to rectify that omission now.”
He opened the small box, and a singularly fine solitaire diamond, set in a gold
ring, twinkled in the candlelight.

“Hugh!”
 
Sally exclaimed, eyeing the gorgeous
ring.
 
“You have given me everything
already.
 
This is not necessary.”

He slipped the ring onto her
finger, nestling it up against the plain gold band already there, pressing his
lips to her hand.

“You saved me from a life of dishonor
and shame, after all,” Sally continued, caressing his hair with her other hand.
 
“And you rescued me from a most unwanted
suitor, ruining your own reputation in the process.”

Hugh grinned at the memory.
 
He slowly climbed up onto the bed, and
stretched out beside Sally.
 
“Yes, we are
quite the disgraced pair,” he murmured, kissing her.
 
“Now, where were we?”

THE END