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Once Upon a True Love's Kiss

Page 44

by Julie Johnstone


  Edith's heart fluttered. "Mr. McTaggart is here? To see me?"

  "Aye. Yer dining with him this evening." Ismay paused to meet Edith's gaze in the looking glass. "If it pleases you."

  "Yes," she said on a breath.

  Mr. McTaggart had come for her after all. Her stomach churned with uncertainty. If he offered marriage, she didn't know how to answer. Besides the obvious obstacle of her age and inability to promise him children, she had Lavinia to consider now. Edith owed her friend everything, even though Lavinia would be the first person to insist Edith follow her heart.

  Ismay was quick with Edith's toilette just as she'd promised. "Have a look," she said, stepping back.

  Edith couldn't believe the transformation. Her blue eyes seemed more vibrant, and her hair was a lovely shade of silver weaved with strands of gold. Perhaps it was only the soft gold ribbon embroidery on the gown's bodice creating the illusion with her hair, but Edith saw beauty she'd never realized existed. She blinked to curb her tears.

  "Thank you, Ismay. You've worked a miracle tonight."

  "Pfft…" Ismay rolled her eyes. "I uncovered what was always there. I shouldna keep you. Fergus can get in a temper from time ta time, and I dinna like being the one responsible for his foul mood."

  Edith was intimately acquainted with Mr. McTaggart's temper, but it caused her no concern. Nor did she believe for an instant his sister was worried.

  Ismay escorted her below stairs to the servants' dining room where the table had been set with pristine white linen and bone china ringed with deep red roses in full bloom. The silver and crystal sparkled in the candlelight. And standing on the other side of the table was a sight that made her belly quiver: Mr. McTaggart dressed in fitted gray trousers, a dark blue jacket, and his family's red, blue, green, and yellow plaid pinned at his shoulder.

  Ismay stepped forward. "Mr. McTaggart, may I present Mistress Edith Gallagher?"

  His penetrating green gaze didn't shift from Edith. "A pleasure, Mistress Gallagher."

  Ismay looked around the room, nodded in appreciation, and then left Edith alone with the handsome Scot. Edith remained frozen like a rabbit spotting danger as he circled the table and approached. Her heart beat frantically when he gently took her elbow and guided her toward a chair. It was all she could do to keep her legs beneath her before she collapsed on the seat.

  His fingers brushed her shoulder when he pushed her chair closer to the table, creating gooseflesh along her arms. "I am pleased you came, lass. I dinna know if you would."

  She didn't know what to say. If he had stayed away, there would be no war waging inside her. Nevertheless, he was here and the lovely evening he'd planned for them filled her with wistfulness. In lieu of words, she uttered an ambiguous grunt and shook out the napkin to drape it over her lap.

  Mr. McTaggart chuckled and assumed his seat across from her. "You learnt a thing or two from yer time with the clan. I expect ye'll be able to carry on a conversation without using a single word in no time."

  Edith smiled. Tension melted from her shoulders. "What I meant to say was thank you for inviting me."

  "Would you like to see what we're being served before you offer yer thanks?" He lifted a silver dome covering one of the dishes.

  Edith's eyes widened. "A soufflé. I never learned to make one that didn't cave in the middle. What is inside?"

  "Corned beef."

  He dished a large spoonful onto her plate, and Edith leaned forward to draw in the savory scent. "It looks and smells delicious," she said. "I believe I will stand by my thank you after all."

  Next he poured red wine into her goblet. When he set the bottle aside, she raised her eyebrows in question.

  "I am refraining from drinking anything more potent than tea," he said. "A certain bonnie lass suggested I should keep my wits about me if I want her to take me seriously."

  He winked. Edith lifted the goblet and slowly swirled the wine as Lord Thorne often did at dinner rather than acknowledge Mr. McTaggart's flirtatious teasing. Memories of their kiss on the stairway caused her insides to quiver. As the meal progressed and she sipped her wine, she grew more at ease. Warm tingles rained down her body, soaking through her skin and heating her inside. "Is this how everything could be with us?" she blurted. "Uncomplicated? Easy?"

  A corner of his mouth inched up. "No' all the time, I expect. Yer no' the easy sort, are you, Eddi? But neither am I, so I need a woman to challenge me now and again."

  She placed her wine goblet on the table while she considered his answer. "Is that how you truly view me? I believe you called me a harpy once."

  A deep blush swept over his face. "Weel, you cannae hold the past against me. That was before I knew I loved you, lass."

  Edith could sense the blood rushing through her veins. It left her woolly-headed and uncertain she'd heard correctly. "You love me?"

  "Aye." He stood and came to urge her to stand too. His arms slid around her waist. "If I didna love you, I wouldna have asked you ta be my bride."

  "You were foxed last night. I thought you didn't realize what you were saying."

  "Oh, aye. I knew weel enough what I wanted last night." He drew her closer and her breath escaped on a ragged exhale. "It is the same as I want now. I've waited many long years to find you, Eddi, my love. I cannae allow you to walk away."

  He eased from their embrace and lowered to one knee, taking her hands in his. Edith's fingers curled around his larger, stronger palms and held on tightly.

  "Will ye marry me, lass?"

  Her legs trembled. She wanted to shout out an acceptance and fling herself into his arms. As a girl, she had dreamed of a moment just like this one. A romantic proposal. A declaration of love. Yet never once in her dreams was she faced with choosing between remaining loyal to a friend and the man she loved. Either way, she would disappoint someone dear to her.

  "I—" She swallowed hard. "I don't know. I mean, I do," she rushed to clarify when his strong brows lowered over his eyes. "I—I think."

  She bit her bottom lip, blinking to keep her tears at bay. Mr. McTaggart was correct about some things being difficult for them. Besides Lavinia needing her, there was the very likely possibility Edith couldn't bear him children.

  His frown deepened and he rose from the floor. Her heart dropped. He was giving up already.

  "What are you doing?" she whispered.

  "We need to sort through what it is keeping you from knowing." He slipped his arm around her shoulders and escorted her from the dining room. "I cannae be the only one certain about us if we hope for a good start."

  He led her through the dim corridor toward a back part of the castle where she'd never been. Candlelight flickered over the stone walls, creating eerie shadows along the winding passage. Memories of nights spent skulking through alleys in search of food or a hiding place to sleep an hour or two flashed through her mind. She shivered.

  "Are you cold?" Mr. McTaggart stopped to unpin his tartan and wrapped it around her.

  "Thank you. I will launder it and see it returned to you." She drew the soft swath of fabric close around her body and brushed a corner against her cheek.

  "It is yers. Every McTaggart woman has one."

  She frowned and backed away to lean against the solid wall. "Why me? I'm not a young woman. You desire children. And what of my past? Can you truly say it doesn't concern you?"

  His eyes glittered darkly in the scant light. "Aye, lass. Yer past does no' concern me. You are here now where you belong." He stepped toward her to rest his hands on her hips. His touch was light, but it anchored her, lending her security she'd never had in her life. "I wish I could go back and find you sooner. Save you from all ye've endured. But you are strong, Eddi. I expect you survived because of it and you came out even stronger."

  She lowered her gaze. All she'd had to endure she'd brought on herself. She'd chosen Jimmy Gibb. She'd gambled away her reputation and livelihood. It hadn't been done to her. The weight of her transgression made her want to c
url inward, to disappear. She couldn't stand the thought of Mr. McTaggart looking at her with love shining in his eyes, oblivious to what she was. "You are wrong. I am weak and I've only myself to blame for my past."

  He bent toward her, his mouth close to her ear. "Nae, lass," he whispered. "Yer no weakling in my eyes."

  Her throat ached from unshed tears. He deserved to know the truth, even if being honest meant losing him. "I—I am not an innocent."

  He drew back with a chuckle. "Neither am I. That should take care of any awkwardness on our wedding night."

  "That isn't my meaning." She sighed. He didn't understand and she was unsure she could speak of her shame with him or anyone. She could barely admit it to herself.

  His smile faded. He cradled her face with his hand, his thumb tracing an arc on her cheek. "Whatever has happened, I cannae judge you. I wouldna. This is who you are now. You are the woman I love."

  He wouldn't love her for long. "I lost a child," she blurted.

  His breath whooshed from him.

  "I was with child when I was turned out from my seamstress position. My pregnancy never advanced. I am barren. I cannot give you children." She broke from his hold to stalk away and cried out in surprise when he captured her arm to bring her back into his embrace.

  "Eddi, I am sorry for you—for the loss—but I cannae accept what yer saying." He cleared his throat. "H-have you been with a man since…?"

  Her eyes flared wide. "No! I wouldn't make the same mistake a second time."

  The rigid lines of his jaw softened. "Many women carry a babe after losing one. My mother, for example. Fourteen years separate my sister and me. It wasna by design."

  Edith shook her head, not able to believe it was true.

  "Aye, she gave birth to Ismay, and then twin boys after my sister. All three are hale and hearty, and Mother was no' a spring chicken at the time."

  "You have brothers?" This seemed like something she should have known. Heat built in her cheeks as she realized she might have met them already and not realized they were Mr. McTaggart's brothers. "Did they attend the family gathering?"

  "My brothers serve in the 42nd Regiment. Blair and Brodie havena been home for a year." He cocked his eyebrow in censorship. "Neither send letters often enough to suit our mother, which they will hear about when they return. Writing our mother is the least they can do, the ungrateful whelps."

  Edith couldn't help smiling at his show of protectiveness, but she sobered as she considered what he'd revealed. "I hadn't considered I might be capable of bearing a healthy babe. Perhaps I won't have the same success as your mother. If I'm unable to promise you a son—and I am not—do you still want me for your wife?"

  Lightly grasping her chin, he tipped her face up. His eyes bore into her. "Can you promise to love me? To remain faithful just as I will be faithful to you? Can you swear to be my helpmate through sickness and health? Good fortune and bad?"

  "Yes," she whispered. But could that ever be enough?

  "Then you are everything I need, lass. Yer the only woman I've ever wanted or ever will." His fingers curled around her nape and he drew her forward until their lips almost touched. Her eyes fluttered closed as his warm breath caressed her cheek. Her heart floundered in her chest, forgetting how to beat properly. "Will ye take me for yer husband, Eddi?"

  The unknown frightened her. It always had. But surrounded by his warmth and palpable love, her courage grew. Sometimes one needed to take the leap and hope for a soft landing.

  "D-do you promise to catch me if I fall, Mr. McTaggart?"

  "Aye, lass." His crooked grin appeared and her insides melted. "For the rest of our lives."

  A wide smile spread across her face. "Then you are everything I need, and the only man I will ever want."

  With a whoop, he lifted her off her feet and kissed her hard.

  Kissed by a Scottish Rogue: Chapter Ten

  EDITH AND MR. MCTAGGART HAD SPENT THE remainder of their evening discussing their future lives together. Perhaps she would spend the colder months sewing curtains for the cottage windows. She would learn his favorite Scottish dishes from his mother. In the spring, she would plant an herb and vegetable garden.

  Mr. McTaggart discussed the need for a water closet now that a woman would be living under his roof. If she needed a space for sewing, the room off the bedchamber boasted good light. She could claim it as her own, at least until they needed it for a nursery. He would teach her to drive a small cart, so she could make trips to the village. Her future husband had even decided which side of the bed should be his.

  The one closest to the door to protect you, lass.

  And if an intruder comes through the window, you can be the first out the door, she'd teased.

  Last night she allowed herself to savor her happiness, but now she had to face an unpleasant task. Edith took a fortifying breath then raised her fist to knock on Lavinia's door. Her heart raced as the sound of light footsteps approached and the door swung open.

  Lavinia greeted her with a smile. "Edith, come in. We missed you at dinner last night."

  She tried to ascertain from her friend's expression whether Lady Thorne had told her of Edith's private dinner with Mr. McTaggart, but Lavinia was as unreadable as always. Edith squeezed past her friend and made her way to the same chair she'd fallen over yesterday. "Did I miss anything exciting last night?" Edith asked.

  "Dinner was nice, but uneventful." Lavinia joined her in the seating area and chose a chair facing her. Lavinia narrowed her eyes and frowned. "You look peaked. Are you certain you are well?"

  Edith's guilt must show on her face. "Of course," she said breezily so Lavinia would stop scrutinizing her. "Why wouldn't I be?"

  "Helena said you were under the weather last night."

  "Obviously it was a temporary condition." Edith smoothed the wrinkles from her skirts, avoiding eye contact. She didn't want to cause any trouble between the sisters by revealing Lady Thorne had told a white lie on Edith's behalf. "I am better now."

  Lavinia blew out a breath. "Thank goodness. I was afraid you would be unable to travel, and I've convinced St. Ambrose we should depart for London next week."

  Edith's hands trembled. Perhaps this would have come easier if Lady Thorne hadn't kept Edith's dinner with Mr. McTaggart secret. "I—uh. Next week is inconvenient."

  Lavinia's blue-green eyes expanded and she scooted to the edge of the chair to reach for Edith's hand. "You are sick, aren't you? All the color has drained from your complexion. I knew I should have insisted on Lord Thorne sending for a doctor. Well, it is not too late." She hopped from the chair and marched toward the bell pull.

  "I don't need a doctor, Lavinia. I'm not sick. I am betrothed."

  Her friend whipped her head in Edith's direction; her mouth formed a silent "O".

  "I wasn't under the weather last night." Edith fidgeted with the ruffle on a pillow wedged between her and the arm of the chair. "I was with Mr. McTaggart. He asked me to marry him and I have accepted."

  Lavinia released the bell pull cord and wandered back to stand in front of her. "Oh, Edith."

  Edith studied the floor. She couldn't bring herself to meet her friend's disappointed gaze. "I'm sorry, Lavinia. You were counting on me and I've let you down. Perhaps Mr. McTaggart would understand postponing—"

  "Oh, do be quiet." Lavinia flung her arms around Edith and hugged her so hard Edith couldn't catch a breath for a moment. "It is marvelous you are marrying the handsome Scot. My sister has nothing but praise for his character. He will make a good husband, I think."

  When Lavinia released her, Edith laced her fingers together on her lap. "I cannot live with the thought of abandoning you after all you've done for me. If you need me in London, I'm certain Mr. McTaggart will understand."

  "What have I done for you that you haven't done for me in return?"

  Edith pursed her lips. "You haven't forgotten you saved my life. Your false modesty only serves to make me feel worse."

  Lavini
a sighed and sank to the floor at Edith's feet.

  "You shouldn't be sitting on the floor in your condition," Edith scolded.

  Her friend ignored her. "I didn't realize we were keeping tally. How many marks does saving one's life earn? Ten? Twenty?" Lavinia flicked a hand in the air. "It doesn't matter. We would have an equal number of marks. You saved my life as well."

  "No," Edith murmured. "I was dying. I wouldn't have survived another night if you hadn't taken me in and cared for me."

  "I was dying too. Inside. One more night, and I would have drowned in my despair. I'd lost everything—everyone I loved. It was too much to bear." Lavinia reached for her hand and squeezed it. "Then you came along and gave me a reason to hope. You became my family. I had someone to care about other than myself. I had a purpose again. We were going to make it out of the brothel together and nothing would stop me from making a better life for us."

  Nothing would have stopped Lavinia? Not even if it meant following a path she didn't want? Edith's stomach churned with uncertainty. She had never considered the possibility Lavinia's reluctance to marry St. Ambrose might stem from not loving him. Lavinia would be bound to the marquess forever once she had his child. Edith didn't know how she could be happy with Mr. McTaggart if Lavinia was miserable. "D-did you make St. Ambrose fall in love with you so we could have a better life?"

  Lavinia's spine stiffened. "How could you ask me such a question? August is not a puppet. I was aware of his attraction to me, but it was mutual. I must admit when the other girls told me of his wealth, I hoped he would offer his protection, but what power do I have to bend a man to my--?" Her hand fluttered up to cover her mouth and her eyes filled with horror. "Oh, Edith. Have I misused him? Did I manipulate him by encouraging his attentions?"

  Edith scooted to the edge of the chair, but Lavinia wouldn't meet her gaze. "Of course not. I've spoken out of turn."

  "But my intentions were selfish in the beginning," Lavinia said. "I have doomed our relationship, haven't I? Everyone will believe as you. They will say I've bedeviled him. Why else would he want someone like me?"

 

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