“You make me want to believe in happily-ever-afters,” he replied. “You also make me wish I were a better dancer. I didn’t know you could dance.”
“I’m multitalented.” She grinned up at him with a naughty smile that made his heart seize again.
“Did I already say you’ll be the death of me?”
“No, but you told me I had a cruel streak.”
“The death part was implied.”
She laughed, and then a few moments later, she sobered. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For this. For making me feel like I belong. For making it clear to everyone that I’m with you.”
It was so out of character for her that he stopped dancing and just held her in the middle of the other couples. “Grace, you do belong with me. And I promise you, no one will ever be allowed to make you feel otherwise when I’m around.” Despite the fact that they were on display, or maybe because of it, he kissed her, long and slow and deliberately. Let them think what they wanted. Let them whisper about the shameful display—though he suspected he and Grace weren’t the only ones affected by the romantic setting. Let his mother be horrified that he was kissing the woman he loved, who was not English, overeducated, or proper. She would have to get used to it, because in that moment Ian realized he could no longer imagine a future without Grace.
“There’s something I want to do,” he said suddenly, “but I have to go back to my room first. Will you come with me?”
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” And in a few moments, he hoped it would be better than fine.
Ian took the stairs two at a time and unlocked his room. It took only a moment to find what he was looking for in his suitcase—the gray velvet box he had picked up before they left London—and tuck it into the sporran at his waist. When he emerged back into the front foyer, however, movement in the dimly lit reception room caught his eye. His mother stood at the mantel with a glass of wine in her hand. From the look of her, it was not the first drink of the evening.
“Mum, what are you doing in here?”
“Looking for you.” She turned slowly, taking in the renovated room. “They did a lovely job with this old place. I always did like this room.”
Something in her voice told him this wasn’t idle conversation. He moved closer and saw that her eyes were bleary, but not from alcohol. “Mum?”
“I haven’t been back here since your father and I . . . Well, you’re aware of that. I thought it would be easier after all these years.”
Not for the first time, Ian wondered if the divorce and the move back to England had been harder than she’d let on. She’d never remarried or, until recently, even had gentlemen friends. But after the way she’d treated Grace, he wasn’t inclined to feel sympathy for her.
“What’s this all about, Mum?”
“You know very well what this is about. You had the audacity to bring her to a family affair—”
“No, that’s not it. I had the audacity to love her. I don’t understand. Do you refuse to accept her because she’s Irish? Because of her tattoos? Or do you think she’s beneath me?” He stared at his mother, willing a straight answer from her for once.
Marjorie’s expression softened. She crossed the room and placed a hand on his chest. “I know you think I’m impossibly cruel, Son, and shallow. But I knew what kind of person she was from the first time I met her. I knew she would break your heart. And I was right.”
She could not have said anything to surprise him more. He looked down into her face and saw genuine concern etched there. His mother was worried about him? He’d always assumed her matchmaking was out of consideration for her image and social status. But the slump of her shoulders held weariness. The set of her jaw revealed pain.
“You haven’t been the same since she left you,” Marjorie said quietly. “And I’m afraid this time when she leaves, it will break you. I love you, Ian. I don’t want to see your love for this woman—as little as I can understand it—destroy you for good.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him in surprise, and he gently put his arms around her. She might be meddling and sometimes cruel, but she was still his mother. She cared about him. She worried about him, even if she didn’t manage to show it properly most of the time.
“Mum, you have to trust me. She’s changed.”
“I know you think so. But people like that don’t change. You believe because they say you’re the one, you’ll come first in their lives.”
“Are we talking about Dad?”
Marjorie pulled away and wandered over to a picture on one of the polished antique tables. It must have been either Jamie’s or Serena’s idea to include the family photo in the decor, this one showing the five of them in Scotland, before she and Duncan MacDonald had divorced. Before Marjorie had forced the children to choose between their parents.
“I know you think I did the wrong thing. But I loved your father. More than you could ever know. I thought I could give up everything for him, and maybe I could have.” She turned toward him with a wry smile. “The problem was, he couldn’t give up anything for me. Scotland and his music always came first. His students always came first. When I realized we had been married twenty years, and he had never once been willing to sacrifice anything to make us a family . . . I couldn’t do it any longer.”
Ian felt like he had been punched in the gut. He knew it was true. He had heard her say it before, and he had defended her to Jamie more than once. Hadn’t he seen how the divorce had affected her? When they’d moved to London, she hadn’t left her bedroom for a month. But somehow . . .
Somehow he had never made the connection between his father and Grace.
Would Grace’s work always come between them? Would she really be able to sacrifice the thing that gave her life meaning?
Or would she leave him again?
“I’m sorry, Ian. I really wish I could give my blessing. But, Son, some people are not cut out for marriage. I would be willing to bet that Grace is one of them.”
He looked out the window to where she waited, camera in hand, gazing out over the twilit water. Recalled how she had stopped him in the middle of Piccadilly Circus to say she loved him, dissipating for the first time the shadow of the past between them.
“I can’t believe that, Mum. I appreciate your concern. But I love Grace. And I’m going to marry her.”
“I respect that. But you will do it without me.”
Ian pressed his lips together. It was what he had expected, but part of him had thought he could make her come around. “Very well, then. Jamie and Serena can represent my family. I hope someday you realize what a mistake you’ve made.”
He strode from the foyer and joined Grace outside. “Come, sweetheart. Let’s take a drive before anyone misses us.”
She searched his face, her forehead creasing. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine. Better than fine. Let’s go.”
Grace climbed into the car, puzzled by the sudden frenetic energy in Ian’s body. “Are we leaving?”
“Not for long. Besides, the party will go until the wee hours. No one will expect us to stick around now that Jamie and Andrea have retired for the night.”
“That was your mother inside, wasn’t it?” Grace chewed her bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have come. I never meant to ruin what should have been a joyous family occasion.”
“You didn’t ruin anything. I wanted you here, and everyone but Mum understands that.”
Grace soon realized he’d pointed the car toward Sleat’s main road. “Where are we going?”
“A little spot I like here.”
She flicked a glance at him. He’d never shown any particular desire to explore Skye, although he’d offered to show her around if she wanted to take photos. Her heart began to thud nervously against her rib cage when she sensed this was not merely a sightseeing trip.
When he finally pulled off the highway onto the verge,
she drew in her breath. The sky was still light in the distance, showering the dark water with shades of orange and gold. He climbed out of the car, then helped her from the passenger side. When she shivered at the rush of cool air, he immediately draped his formal jacket over her shoulders. She nestled into his side beneath his arm and looked out onto the dark water of the sound.
“Something tells me you didn’t bring me here to look at the scenery. And while I’d love to think this was just an elaborate way to get me alone, I rather doubt that as well.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple, then fumbled with the clasp on his sporran. “I was going to wait to do this. I didn’t want to take anything away from Jamie and Andrea, but now I simply can’t wait.”
She straightened when she saw the jewelry box in his hand. “Ian?”
For the first time in recent memory, he actually looked nervous. When he took her hand, his serious expression stole her breath. “I know this might seem sudden. But I fell in love with you when I was twenty-six and too stupid to know what I had in front of me. I loved you when you walked away, and I loved you every minute thereafter.”
Her hand drifted to her neck as if that would help loosen the lump in her throat. She couldn’t manage a sound, but he didn’t look to be done yet.
“Grace, the only thing that has ever mattered to me is you. And if you will let me, I will spend the rest of my life making up the time we lost.” He sank down to one knee in the gravel and opened the box. “Will you marry me?”
She could barely process what was happening. He was wearing a kilt, a tuxedo shirt, and a very earnest expression, all the while holding a box that obviously contained a ring she couldn’t see clearly in the dim light. When she opened her mouth to reply, the only thing that emerged was hysterical laughter.
His expression turned to dismay. “Grace?”
She forced herself to be serious. “I’m sorry. You caught me off guard, Ian. I don’t need an elaborate setup or a fancy proposal. All I need is you.”
The lines of his forehead smoothed. “Does that mean . . . ?”
“Yes. It means that I will marry you.” Her smile stretched so wide it threatened to permanently cramp her face. “It also means you can get up now.”
“Oh, thank you. The verge is gravel, and I’m not wearing trousers.” He straightened, removed the ring, and slid it onto her finger. “I love you, Grace.”
“And I love you.” She lifted her face to him, waiting for his kiss. His lips moved over hers softly, tenderly, and she barely dared to breathe as she drank him in. When he drew back an inch, she held her hand up so the ring caught the light.
“It’s different!” A delicate knotwork band cradled the diamond, which was surrounded by dozens of tiny ones.
“Same diamonds, same metal, just remade. With a little added to the band for strength.”
Her vision swam in an unexpected wash of tears. He’d kept her engagement ring all these years and then had it remade into something new? Her heart felt too full to speak for several moments. “That might be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
“That was the response I’d been hoping for.” He pressed another series of kisses to her lips, her cheek, the spot beneath her ear, and she pressed into him while his fingertips grazed her back beneath the jacket.
“I’m sorry I laughed at you. I didn’t take you for grand gestures and getting down on one knee and all that.”
“What can I say? I was moved by the moment.” His lips were brushing her neck in a deliciously slow path to her exposed collarbone. “You seem to bring out the unexpected in me.”
“You mean I broke the curse of the suit?” Her voice came out shaky. It was getting harder to think by the second.
His laughter rumbled in his chest, and she felt him smile against her skin. “I’m not wearing a suit now.”
“True. So perhaps we can thank the national menswear of Scotland.”
“Never underestimate the power of tartan.” His mouth found hers once more, conveying a level of need that mirrored her own, obliterating every last sensible thought. When he let her go, she almost moaned in frustration.
“We need to go back now, I think. While I can still act like a gentleman.”
She wasn’t quite sure she wanted him to be a gentleman, and that thought alone was enough to make her reach for the door handle. He waited until she gathered herself into the car, then shut the door behind her. She spent the time it took for him to reach the driver’s side giving herself a stern mental lecture. The ring on her finger changed nothing.
Except it changed everything. A thrill of excitement shot through her, mixing with terror. Could she do this? Could she finally be the person he needed? The person he deserved?
Then he leaned over to kiss her, sweetly and carefully, and she shoved down the fear. No. She wouldn’t let their past come between them. She wouldn’t let her own failures ruin what should be the best night of her life.
“Ready? I imagine it’s late enough we could avoid most of the questions.”
“Until morning at least.” She held her hand up to admire the sparkle of the impossibly large diamond, once more touched by the thought he’d put into it. It must have taken weeks. “Wait, how long ago did you have this made?”
“Over a month ago.”
More than a month. Which meant just after she’d told him she loved him. Her heart clenched. So much faith in her, so much willingness to accept her back. It struck her with the deep conviction that she didn’t deserve him.
And the deep determination to try.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
IAN WOKE EARLY, showered and changed, and then paced the perimeter of his room while waiting for the clock to show something approximating a reasonable hour. He could only guess what his family would say when they glimpsed the ring on Grace’s finger. Muriel and Serena would be pleased. Mum, on the other hand . . .
Ian had made it clear that he intended to marry Grace, and Mum had made it equally clear she wouldn’t support that decision. Whether she came around or not was irrelevant. He wasn’t going to let anything else steal more of his time with Grace than he had lost already.
When the clock finally clicked over to 7 a.m., he gave up and knocked on Grace’s door. It swung open immediately.
“Good morning,” she said, bracing her shoulder against the doorframe. She was already dressed, her hair tucked under her signature cap, though she actually wore a touch of makeup today.
“Sleep well?” he asked, moving in for a morning kiss.
“Not at all.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and combed her fingers through the short hair at his nape, sending shivers down his spine. This woman was most definitely going to be the death of him. “It must have been the weight of this rock on my hand.”
His heart lifted at her teasing tone. Part of him had worried that in the light of morning, she would regret accepting his proposal. Had she not been a captive here without a car or public transport, he might have questioned whether she’d be waiting for him at all.
“If we go down now, we might have some time to ourselves before the others wake.” He nuzzled her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin and wishing he didn’t have to share her so quickly. He wanted to keep the news of their engagement to himself for a little longer.
She pulled back with a smile. “I’m hungry. Let’s go see what there is below.”
Coffee, tea, and pastries awaited them, along with most of his family. Serena and Muriel already sat at one of the larger tables by the window, Em and Max positioned between them.
“Morning,” Muriel greeted them brightly. She looked as cheery and healthy as always. Maybe they had been making too big of an issue over a little fatigue. “You two are up early.”
Ian pulled out a chair for Grace at the table for two beside the others, just close enough to talk. “It’s so bright here compared to London. I barely slept. I forget how it is up north.”
“Mmm.” Serena hid her smile in her teacu
p.
“What?”
“You didn’t think we’d miss the ring, did you?” Serena shot a significant look at Grace’s hand on top of the table.
Grace quickly whisked her hand into her lap. “Don’t make a big fuss over it, please. We don’t want to draw attention away from the newlyweds. And your mum—”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Muriel said, her voice a touch stiff. “Marjorie left last night, and the happy couple started out at dawn. They have a flight out of Inverness this morning.”
“Besides, you deserve to celebrate your news.” Serena rose from her chair and pressed Grace into an awkward hug. “Congratulations. I’m so pleased for you two.”
Grace’s expression turned to surprise, and Ian suspected the fleeting glimmer in her eyes came from tears. At that moment, he’d never loved his sister more. He put his arms around Serena and kissed the top of her head. “Thanks, Sis.”
Serena squeezed him back. “Be good to her, Ian. I want to see both of you happy.”
Muriel replaced Serena and patted his cheek. “About time you two figured it out. Be happy and well. And don’t tarry on your way to the altar.”
He choked down his laugh, even as gratitude toward the women in his family filled him. No warnings, just sincere congratulations. And by Grace’s expression, she was equally touched.
Other guests began to file into the room: family and friends, some of whom Ian didn’t know particularly well. The ones who noticed the ring on Grace’s hand offered hearty congratulations, though there were as many surprised looks as smiles. After an hour of lingering over pastries and rapidly cooling tea, Ian couldn’t take it any longer.
“Shall we go pack? We’ll be driving through the night if we don’t leave soon.”
“Good idea.” She stood and tossed her napkin on the table before shooting a look to Muriel and Serena. “Shall we come say good-bye at the house?”
“Please do.” Something sympathetic surfaced in Serena’s expression, but she said no more.
London Tides Page 21
