Chapter 19

When Kenna felt Maxwell's eyes on her, she lowered her gaze to her hands, then looked out of the window. If it had been possible, she would have thrown herself across the carriage and into his arms, but she would not allow herself to think that way. They might see each other in passing, but they would never be intimate. It was not the way of the world.

When they reached the entry to Invercree, Lindsey alighted first, then Kenna, and after her, Maxwell.

As soon as they walked inside the courtyard, they were surrounded by guards, and when Lindsey asked for Laird McDonald to be called, Maxwell's heart began to race. He felt as if he could not move, as though his feet were nailed to the floor. God, how he wished this was over, one way or the other!

A moment later, Laird McDonald came out, looking much older than the last time Maxwell had seen him. He bowed to Lindsey, ignored Kenna, and looked squarely at Max.

Max bowed. "M'Laird," he said politely, "it is good to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same for you," Laird McDonald replied grimly. "Come to my study." Suddenly he noticed Kenna for the first time. "Kenna! Where have you been? Your mother has been worried sick about you!"

"It is a very long story, M'Laird, and I am afraid no one can tell it but me," she replied. Then she screwed up her courage and asked, "May I come with you?" Her eyes were pleading with him to agree.

He nodded. "Of course, but afterward you must go straight to your mother."

"I will," Kenna agreed.

She felt more nervous than she ever had in her life, and not just because she was going to have to do something she found terrifying, but because she was doing it on behalf of the man she loved. If anything should happen to Maxwell, she thought, she might as well go to a nunnery since she did not want to live in a world without him in it. Now, his fate was in her hands.

When they arrived at Laird McDonald's study, they were surprised to find Douglas waiting for them. Kenna shrank back at the sight of him, but Maxwell enclosed her small hand in his big one and gave it a reassuring squeeze, then looked Douglas straight in the eye.

"Douglas," he said gruffly, bowing his head.

"Max," Douglas returned the greeting, then turned to Kenna. "First of all, forgive me, please. I was a brute to you, and I deserved to be punished. You would think, after Lachlan…well, I am sorry, Kenna."

"Thank you. I accept your apology," Kenna answered softly, with a little smile.

She was truly touched because she had been prepared to hate him. He had lived only for his own pleasure for a long time, but he was making an effort to change, and she respected that.

"I have sworn to give up wine and whiskey," Douglas went on. "But please accept a glass from me."

He handed her a fragrant glass of deep red wine, and she thanked him and sipped it politely.

"Now," Laird McDonald said with a deep sigh, "I know why you have come, Max."

Maxwell opened his mouth to speak and leaned forward in his chair, but Laird McDonald put up his hand to stop him.

"Since Douglas has been sober, even though it has only been a few hours, he has remembered and confessed to quite a few things he might have been mistaken about before."

Maxwell allowed himself a sliver of hope as he looked at Douglas and saw him squirming slightly. Suddenly he did not look at all sure of himself.

"Max, answer me truthfully…" He swallowed nervously. "Did you push Lachie down the stairs?"

There was a deafening silence for a moment.

"No, I did not." Maxwell met Douglas's eyes squarely, hiding nothing. He was tired of telling the story and hoped this was the last time. "I took the serving girl out of his arms. He overbalanced, and nobody was close enough to stop him from falling."

"I can back him up," Kenna said suddenly.

"Kenna? Were you there?" the laird asked, frowning.

"Yes, but I could not speak up because we were all afraid of losing our positions." She shot a glance at Douglas. "Master Douglas was not so forgiving then."

Douglas nodded slowly.

"Why did you run, Max?" the laird asked. "If you were innocent? You must have realized how it looked."

"I panicked," Maxwell admitted, running his hand through his hair. "I was sure no one would believe me. I was not thinking properly. M'Laird, do you believe me?"

The laird sat back in his chair and nodded slowly. "I do. But where have you been? Both of you? There is a story here, and I need to hear it."

He looked at his and Kenna's joined hands, studied the way Kenna was gazing at Maxwell, then smiled to himself and listened as he started to speak.

Maxwell felt his face growing hot as he began his story, but he gained courage as he proceeded, particularly when he felt Kenna's hand tighten around his, and he forgot his self-consciousness. He only had to tell the truth, after all, but he became a little hesitant when describing his rescue from the stables, so Kenna took over.

"I was feeding the horses scraps as I always do, M'Laird, when I found him," she began. "I did not recognize him at first, but I took him to my chamber, and he slept on the floor until he had recovered a little. After a few days, the incident with Douglas happened and we fled. The rest you know."

"If it were not for this wonderful woman, I would not be alive," Maxwell said huskily, gazing at her with eyes that were shining with love.

Kenna saw the light in his eyes, but she knew that it was gratitude and nothing else. She was still only a serving maid, even though her whole being ached with love for him.

"It is good to be appreciated, Master Forbes, thank you," she said politely.

Why so formal? he thought, frowning. He thought that if they could not be lovers, they could at least be friends. Suddenly he felt Kenna begin to slide her hand out of his and he grasped it tightly to stop her. She glanced up at him, her eyes questioning.

"Maxwell," the laird said, reaching out a hand to clasp his. "Let the rift between our families be healed."

"Thank you, M'Laird," Maxwell said thankfully. "You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that."

"And thank you, Kenna," the laird said, smiling at her. "Now go and put your poor mother out of her misery."

Kenna curtsied, and Maxwell opened the door for her to leave, but as she did so, she heard a scream and saw her mother come running toward her, arms outstretched. In a split second she was enveloped in a hug so tight she could barely breathe.

"Where have ye been, ye daft lassie? I have been worried out o' my mind!"

Flora was sobbing, and Kenna felt a stab of guilt as she realized that she was the cause.

"I am sorry, Mammy," she said soothingly. "I will tell you the whole story later, but I promise you, it was not my fault. Now I must say goodbye to Master Forbes and Lady Gilchrist."

Flora's gaze flicked up to Maxwell's, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. This has got somethin' tae dae wi' ye, it said.

Eventually, she let Kenna go, then looked at her face carefully.

"Come tae the kitchen when ye are ready," she said, but there was a warning in her eyes.

Kenna turned, and her gaze met Maxwell's. Then, as if drawn by an invisible cord, she moved toward him. There was no noise and nothing around her. No one else existed but she and Maxwell.

Maxwell felt as though he was pulling Kenna toward him. She was moving so slowly but inevitably, and when she was no more than a foot away, he reached out and gripped her arms gently.

"Kenna," he murmured.

He shook his head in disbelief that he could be in the grips of a love so strong that he thought it might overwhelm him.

Not only did he wish he could carry her away and make her one with him, but he wanted to be part of her life, wake up every day next to her, and have children with her. He wanted all of her forever.

"I love you."

At this, Kenna laughed out loud and shook her head.

"No, Master Forbes. Please don't mistake love for gratitude. Just say thank you."

His heart plummeted, but he would not give up. What he had seen in her face was love, pure and simple.

"Thank you, Kenna, from the bottom of my heart for everything, but I do know the difference. I love you with everything that I am. Marry me."

For a moment, Kenna was so astonished that she could do nothing but stand and stare at him.

"But I am a servant," she protested. "I would ruin your life. You would be snubbed by all the people of your own class."

"I don't care about them or anyone else as long as I have you," he replied, smiling into her apple-green eyes. "I have never been one to bother about other people's opinions, Kenna. Say yes, please?"

At that moment Kenna wanted to do nothing more than let him take her away to a soft, comfortable place where they could lie together and let Maxwell teach her about the mystery of love. But she was still afraid. What if he regretted his decision? What if, after a few months, he decided that all they had was no more than a deep physical attraction to each other? What if he tired of her?

Yet her whole body ached for him, and Kenna could not help herself from taking a step forward so that no more distance separated them. As she pressed her hands against his broad, muscled chest, feeling its hardness and strength under her palms, something wonderful happened.

She felt the floodgates of her heart open, and as her love gushed out and engulfed both of them, she was not afraid anymore. She laid her head on his chest, feeling the strong thud of his heartbeat against her ear, and whispered, "Yes, Maxwell, I will be your wife."

His sigh of relief was so deep that Kenna felt it blow over her hair as she slipped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him. Then, as he wrapped his arms around her, she felt as though she was in a cocoon of warmth and security, and exactly where she was meant to be.

"Thank God," Maxwell breathed, then he tilted her face up to smile at her a moment longer before he lowered his mouth to hers.

It was not a frantic kiss but slow and tender, and as he caressed Kenna's lips with his, Maxwell felt as though it was an act of worship. As if to prove it, his shaft stiffened; he pulled her even more tightly against him and heard her answering moan of desire. God, how he wished they were alone!

It was only when they drew apart a few seconds later that they heard the applause. Up until that moment they had been aware of no one but themselves, but when they looked around, somewhat embarrassed, they were aware that a little crowd had gathered.

Flora and Lindsey came rushing to embrace them, followed by the little more restrained congratulations of Laird and Lady McDonald, and they left with the cheers of the servants ringing in their ears.

In the carriage, Maxwell was unable to stop touching Kenna, although he held himself back from kissing her again. He was content to have her head on his shoulder, and as the Castle of Kirklieth came into view, he said softly, "Your new home, Mistress Forbes."

"No, Max," she murmured. "This is not my home. Wherever you are, my home is there."