Chapter 15

J essie hovered at the edge of the room, unsure of what to do as she watched Lord Strathburn and Robert take seats before the fire. The earl settled into a leather wingback chair while Robert sat close by on a silk-upholstered settee. Quite touchingly, Caesar lay at Robert's feet, his muzzle on his boots.

She surreptitiously wiped away the involuntary tears that had slipped down her cheeks as she'd witnessed the bittersweet reunion between father and son. She felt like an intruder watching such a private moment. While she wanted to let Robert and his father have some time alone, she could hardly leave. The risk of discovery by Simon or Lady Strathburn, or even one of the other servants, was too great. It would be inappropriate for her to retire to the earl's dressing room or bedchamber. So she stayed near the double oak doors attempting to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

And it did indeed seem that Robert and the earl were oblivious to her presence for the moment.

At his father's urging, Robert briefly recounted the sequence of events which had followed his escape from Lochrose ten years ago. He spoke quietly, his low voice weighted with leaden remorse. "I took you at your word, Father, when you told me I was never to return—for a very long while at least. MacTaggart got me to the coast where I managed to persuade the captain of a fishing boat off Nairn to take me as far as Skye. From there I made my way to Ireland and thence to France. You'll be pleased to know my new identity as Robert Burnley held up even under the scrutiny of a commander of an English frigate that intercepted the boat to Ireland. Your magistrate did a sterling job, Father. The commander believed my papers to be legitimate. If it weren't for you and MacTaggart?—"

"I still cannot believe Simon had you chained up in the wine cellar to hand you over to the English." The earl's face had turned dark red with anger. "No matter that you defied me, I couldn't let Simon betray you like that. It was abominable." His fist struck the arm of the wing chair and Caesar lifted his head and whined.

Robert reached out and grasped his father's hand. "Steady, Father. You must not stress yourself too much. I couldn't bear it if anything were to happen to you, now we've found each other again."

Lord Strathburn patted Robert's arm. "I'll be all right, son. Mrs. MacMillan has been taking good care of me with her special tea of comfrey and willow bark. I swear that woman has a touch of the wise woman in her." His high color began to fade as he added, "But pray, continue with your tale."

Robert's expression grew grim. "I'm…I'm not proud of how I spent the next few years. Suffice it to say, I didn't much care where I was or what I put my hand to."

"Whatever you've done in the past, Robert, it doesn't matter to me. It's all over now," said the earl, compassion lighting his eyes. "I will listen to anything you wish to share."

Robert studied his father's earnest expression for a moment then sighed. "I effectively became a soldier for hire, a mercenary with the French Army. Fighting was the only thing I was fit for."

Lord Strathburn reached out and squeezed Robert's shoulder. There were tears in the old man's eyes. "You wanted to die, didn't you, my son?"

Robert dropped his gaze to his tightly fisted hands in his lap. "Aye. For a long time, life didn't seem to be worth living anymore."

Shock stole Jessie's breath and her vision swam with tears. Robert had opened up his very soul to reveal his deepest pain and her heart wept for him.

The earl spoke again, his voice gentle. "So what made you give up the fighting?"

"I wish I had a better, more noble reason but frankly, I just grew tired of it, Father," Robert said thickly. "The pointless messy, bloody insanity of it all. And I don't know why, but I seemed to have the devil's own luck on the battlefield. Aside from the occasional superficial injury, nothing ever seemed to touch me."

Lord Strathburn nodded. "Either that or you were a damn good soldier. MacTaggart always maintained you were a fine marksman and an even better swordsman. What did you do next?"

Robert grinned shyly, surprising Jessie. He looked almost boyishly proud. "I settled in the Caribbean. Jamaica to be exact. While I've been parading around as the very English Mr. Robert Burnley, respectable merchant ship-owner for the last four years, I've also been undermining the English Crown in other ways." He shrugged a wide shoulder. "I'm afraid the Scots rebel in me cannot help it."

"Really?" asked Lord Strathburn, curiosity tinging his voice. "Given that devilish twinkle in your eye, I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Aye, perhaps you should be," said Robert. "Only a trusted few know this, but I've been secretly working as a spy and rogue ‘privateer' so to speak." His expression hardened, the light from the window highlighting the smoldering anger in his eyes. "After Culloden, I couldn't let the English get away with blue murder. I also couldn't let them exploit my fellow Scotsmen who'd been indentured into hard labor in the Colonies after the Rebellion—or anyone else who's been sold into slavery, for that matter. It's beyond despicable that the English make coin off the blood, sweat, and tears of captured souls who are treated like chattel. So I decided to employ my merchant ship, the Phoenix , and my corsair's vessel, the Griffon , to eke out some natural justice. I trade shipping information with England's enemies and when I'm at sea, I free the enslaved. It was the Phoenix who actually brought me home. She's currently anchored in Edinburgh."

Jessie couldn't contain a small gasp. Robert was not only a Jacobite rebel, but a spy and a pirate? Goodness gracious, he'd led a dangerous existence. But he was also a champion of those who needed help. She was nothing but impressed.

Lord Strathburn seemed impressed too. He returned his son's smile. "You're an adventurer down to your very bones, my boy, and far too noble for your own good. But I'm grateful you're home now and rest assured, I will never break your trust. Your secrets are safe with me. I've missed you. More than you could ever know."

Robert smiled then, and his eyes seemed to glow with genuine happiness. "I've missed you too, Father," he murmured. But then a shadow crossed his countenance. "One of the reasons I ventured home was that a few months ago, I heard a rumor or two suggesting the estate has not been faring well of late. Is it true?"

Lord Strathburn's chest rose and fell with a weary sigh. "Indeed. As much as I hate to admit it, that is in fact the case. Your stepmother and brother…" A rueful smile twisted the earl's mouth. "Well, let's just say I've got a firm hold on the purse strings at the moment, and they are none too happy about it. Things started to go awry about a year ago when I began to hand over the management of the estate to Simon. I thought I was doing the right thing, trying to keep him busy and out of trouble. It was a grave mistake. But now I have a new factor—Munroe is his name—keeping an eye on things, the situation is starting to improve."

Robert nodded and glanced over toward Jessie. Their eyes met briefly and heat flashed through her, but as was so often the case, she could not read his expression.

The moment passed and Robert turned his attention back to his father. When he spoke, his voice was imbued with quiet determination. "As I said, that was part of the reason for my return. I couldn't bear the thought of leaving the Strathburn estate and the fate of our clan in Simon's hands. I know you may need time to think about it, but if there's any chance at all that you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I would like to try to repair all the damage I've done." He drew a deep breath. "Father, will you let me come home and take my place at your table once more?"

Lord Strathburn gripped Robert's hands. "Of course. Nothing would make me happier than to see you back here at Lochrose. I wouldn't have it any other way." He pushed himself up from his seat. "Let me call my valet, MacGowan, so he can make your old room ready for you."

"Father." Robert rose and clasped the earl's shoulder, staying him. "That would not be wise. Not quite yet at any rate."

Lord Strathburn frowned. "What do you mean?"

"There might still be a price on my head. If Simon and my stepmother learn of my return, they might seek to have me arrested again."

The earl scowled. "They wouldn't dare. I'd have them cast out from here faster than they could blink. The cheek?—"

"Nevertheless, Father, I feel we need to exercise the utmost caution. I'm a known Jacobite—a traitor to King George. I need to seek a pardon. Until then, I will not be safe."

Lord Strathburn sighed heavily. "You're right. I have been caught up in the moment and the joy of your return. I'm not thinking clearly." He stood and clasped Robert's arm. "I will write a petition straightaway that you can present to Lord Arniston, the Lord Advocate, requesting clemency. Even if you are not absolved immediately, at the very least you may be released into my custody."

As Lord Strathburn began to walk hesitantly toward his desk, Jessie came forward, limping slightly herself. She retrieved the earl's walking stick and offered it to him. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Miss Munroe, I've been so distracted that I'd forgotten you were here." He took the cane from her and patted her hand.

"That is perfectly understandable, milord, given the circumstances," said Jessie with a smile. She was awash with both relief and happiness for Robert. To see his father welcome him with open arms was heartwarming indeed.

Concern clouded the earl's eyes as his gaze traveled over her. "I notice you are limping, lass. Are you hurt?"

"Only a wee bit." Jessie was understating the degree of pain she was now in. In fact, her ankle was fairly throbbing. "Perhaps if I could sit…"

Robert stepped forward. "Of course, Jessie. You should've said something sooner." He crossed the room, then with his arm about her waist, effortlessly guided her to the settee.

As Jessie sank onto the cushioned seat, she chanced a glance at Lord Strathburn, and oh dear… His brow had plunged into a fierce frown.

"Miss Munroe, how is it that you have come to be here with Robert?" he asked with a sternness that made Jessie's heart sink with dismay. "Lady Strathburn informed me that you left for Edinburgh two days ago, as there had been a family emergency of some kind."

"That is so, milord." Jessie hoped she sounded convincing. After all, she was not being entirely untruthful. There had been an emergency of sorts…but it had been her own. "I was plannin' to leave for Edinburgh to help my cousin who's taken ill. Unfortunately, the public coach doesna leave until noon today."

"But where have you been in the meantime?" Lord Strathburn demanded. "And how did you meet Robert?"

Robert placed his hand on her shoulder, as though he wanted to protect her from his father's display of irritation. "It's complicated, Father," he said carefully.

"Well perhaps one of you can enlighten me," said Lord Strathburn looking from one to the other, his gaze growing flinty. He was clearly unimpressed.

Quick thinking was undoubtedly required. Jessie swallowed, praying she wouldn't sound nervous. She had nothing to be ashamed of, after all. Not really… "Milord…I left here to travel to Grantown the day before yesterday," she explained. "As you can see, I was injured?—"

The earl's manner softened a little. "How so?"

Jessie hesitated . Hmm, what do I admit to and what do I leave out? "I sprained my ankle along the way and…Lord Lochrose and his squire came to my aid," she said. She certainly didn't want to complicate matters further by confessing that she'd also been shot in the arm. By his son.

Lord Strathburn's frown returned. "So you've been staying in Grantown with Robert all this time? At the Strathspey Arms?"

Jessie blushed. "No, milord. No' in Grantown. Mrs. MacMillan suggested that I stay at yer hunting lodge rather than at the inn. I know I'm only a veritable nobody—just yer factor's daughter—but I ken it would be improper and perhaps even a wee bit risky for me to stay in such a public place on my own. I apologize if it was inappropriate of me to use yer lodge, without yer express permission."

Lord Strathburn's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Miss Munroe, I'm beginning to suspect your sudden departure from Lochrose had less to do with an imminent family crisis and more to do with my younger son, Simon. You've been hiding from him, haven't you?"

Jessie's heart began to pound as heat scalded her cheeks. She was loath to answer. If the earl continued along the same vein, Robert would soon know she had continually lied to him about her fictitious betrothal to his half-brother. Now the moment was upon her, she couldn't bear it.

Worse still, she could feel Robert's gaze on her face and a wave of humiliation swept over her. If only the floor would swallow her up whole.

Lord Strathburn continued when she didn't respond. His voice was now surprisingly gentle. "I may be old, Miss Munroe, but I have ears and eyes. This is not the first time something like this has happened. I know what…what Simon is like. Unfortunately, you're not the first to have been the recipient of his…unwanted attentions." He moved closer and sat in his nearby wingchair. "Believe me, my dear, I understand the situation better than you think."

Scraping together what was left of her courage, Jessie raised her eyes to the earl's. "I think it would be best for everyone if I went to stay with my cousin, milord."

Lord Strathburn nodded. "If that is what you wish, Miss Munroe, I shall do my utmost to make it so. I only wish you had come to me for help sooner."

Jessie sighed shakily. Robert's continued silence felt like a physical weight on her chest. "I didna want to create a fuss, milord, or make things difficult for my father," she said at length, her tone more than a wee bit defeated. "It just seemed easier to leave…"

At last, she glanced up at Robert. What was he thinking? His posture was rigid, virtually motionless save for the twitch of a muscle in his jaw. He was angry with her, and she couldn't blame him. What a daft fool she'd been.

As her gaze skipped away, Robert squatted down before her. "Is all of this true, lass?" he asked gently, reclaiming her attention. "Has Simon been forcing unwanted attentions on you?"

His deep blue eyes bore into hers and Jessie knew there would be no escaping the truth this time. Sucking in a breath, she hiked up her chin and resisted the urge to look away. "Aye, ‘tis true."

Confusion flickered in Robert's eyes. "So you lied to me about being handfasted to Simon. Why did you do that? I don't understand."

"What? Simon and Miss Munroe are handfasted?" Lord Strathburn exclaimed.

Robert glanced at his father. "I was led to believe they were betrothed." To Jessie he said, his tone grave yet gentle, "Tell me honestly. Is the betrothal all a lie?"

Jessie lifted her chin a fraction higher, steeling herself to admit her perfidy. "Aye, I lied. But I prefer to think of it as…self-preservation." Now her deception had been revealed, it was as though she were daring Robert to censure her for her actions.

"So I misinterpreted everything I saw at the loch," Robert said gruffly.

"Aye," she admitted, stomach twisting into a tighter knot with every word. "I…I tried to explain what had really happened that morning so many times, but I was alone and injured, and to be honest, more than a wee bit frightened. I didna know if ye intended me harm. Then when I discovered that ye perceived me as a threat to yer safety, I didna think ye'd believe me if I denied what ye had assumed to be true—that I was Simon's paramour. I know it sounds foolish and illogical, but I believed that if ye thought I was someone important, Simon's betrothed, perhaps you would see me as less…dispensable."

"Och, Jessie lass. I must've come across as the worst kind of barbarian if you thought I would harm you, just to protect myself from discovery." Robert's voice was laden with remorse. "You should've told me I was wrong about what I'd seen the other day." He suddenly gathered her into his arms and gently kissed her hair.

"I couldna do it," Jessie whispered into his shirt, hot tears stinging her eyelids. "I was too…too ashamed…" Now Robert understood how precarious her situation had been, the reason for her duplicity, an overwhelming relief washed through her. Feeling stronger, she raised her head from Robert's shoulder and sought his gaze again. "That morning by the loch, Simon told me that if I didna do as he wanted, he would see that my father lost his position here. But I couldna bring myself to give in to his demands…so I left. And you know the rest."

Robert stroked her hair away from her face, then gently wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of his fingers. "You will never have to suffer his presence again, Jessie. I will make sure of that."

She gave him a watery smile. "I believe you."

Lord Strathburn cleared his throat pointedly. "Robert, please tell me you haven't been staying alone with Miss Munroe for the last two nights."

Och, no. Jessie's stomach dropped. Was Lord Strathburn about to make an enormous mountain out of a molehill?

Robert rose slowly and met his father's gaze directly. "Circumstances beyond our control forced us together," he said, his tone measured. "But let me reassure you, nothing untoward has occurred."

"But you have spent two nights together," persisted Lord Strathburn, his brow knitting into a deep frown. "Isn't that so, Miss Munroe?"

"I'm afraid so, milord." Jessie's whole face burned with embarrassment. "The first night we stayed at the hunting lodge. There was nowhere else to go. And I was injured… Although we were no' entirely alone. Tobias, Robert's squire, stayed at the lodge too. Then last night, when Robert and I stayed in the cave?—"

Lord Strathburn's eyebrows shot upward. "I beg your pardon?"

Robert's brow furrowed slightly. "I was concerned that Simon would be out looking for Jessie with the help of dragoons or the Black Watch," he explained calmly. "We moved to somewhere more isolated last night to avoid detection. An encounter with the King's men was the last thing I needed. We remained safe and no harm has been done. You need not be so concerned."

Lord Strathburn's expression was grim. "Robert, regardless of the reason, you cannot overlook the seriousness of this situation. What will Jessie's father think when he hears of this?"

Jessie took a deep breath, praying for patience. "Lord Strathburn, as Robert said, no' a thing occurred between us that would be of any concern?—"

"Miss Munroe, the mere fact you've been virtually alone in the company of my son for two nights is enough to completely ruin you," Lord Strathburn said stiffly. "And while I may not be as sprightly as I used to be, I am neither blind nor deaf. I can see by the way Robert looks at you—and touches you—that you have shared some degree of affection. You cannot deny it. It's obvious, even to an old fool like me. Your father will be livid you've been compromised, even by reputation only. I know he has high hopes of you marrying well one day. If you were my daughter, I would too."

"Perhaps it would be better if her father did not know then," Robert said carefully.

Jessie glanced up at Robert. The very idea that the earl would think that they had already been intimate… That Robert had seduced her… Her face flamed. But nothing had happened! Nothing of import in any event.

Lord Strathburn shook his head. "Lying by omission will not change the reality of the situation, Robert. I ken you are an honorable man at heart. You cannot want the lass's reputation to be harmed."

Robert exhaled sharply; he was clearly irritated by this turn in the discussion. "You're right. But why upset Jessie's father needlessly if nothing —and I say that without a word of a lie—has happened? Miss Munroe's virtue has not been tarnished."

"Are you sure about that?" returned Lord Strathburn hotly. "Despite your assurances to the contrary, it looks to me as if something quite significant has transpired between the two of you."

"What are you suggesting then?" returned Robert, a note of impatience hardening his voice.

"There is only one way to set things to rights," said the earl gravely. His steely blue gaze was uncompromising as he glanced between Robert and Jessie. "You two will have to be handfasted."

Jessie gasped. Oh Lord, surely the earl was jesting.

Robert obviously thought so too. "You cannot be serious," he burst out.

"Oh, but indeed I am, my son," said Lord Strathburn, mouth set in a determined line. "There is no other course of action open to you and Miss Munroe, considering the circumstances. I will not stand by and let this poor lass be ruined. You will be handfasted in this room, this very day, before you leave here."

"But, Father," began Robert urgently, retreating to the edge of the hearth…away from Jessie. "Surely that is not fair on Miss Munroe, given that my future is far from bright at the present moment. I'm a wanted man. A traitor. I'm sure Mr. Munroe would be far from happy to have his daughter betrothed to someone like me?—"

"You will be pardoned, Robert," the earl declared as confidently as if he were simply stating a universal truth. "Lord Arniston is an old friend of mine. There won't be a problem. And after that, you two can return here to be wed at Kilburn Kirk. And besides"—the earl smiled down at Jessie—"it is a fine match for Miss Munroe. She will be a viscountess after all. Her father will be delighted."

Jessie's mind was reeling, her heart thudding wildly against her ribs. This attempt at matchmaking by Lord Strathburn was completely unexpected. True, it was heartening that he seemed so concerned for her reputation and welfare, but to suggest she should wed his son—it seemed unwarranted in the extreme.

And besides, one of the party seemed resolutely against it…

She risked a glance at Robert. What must he be thinking? He'd dragged a hand through his brown hair, loosening a thick lock which fell haphazardly across his brow. Judging by his deep scowl, he was exasperated at the very least. Perhaps even furious.

When he spoke, it seemed to Jessie that he was struggling to keep his tone even and measured, which could not be a good sign. "Father, despite your faith in the Lord Advocate, there is still a significant chance that things could go awry. As I said before, I'm sure Jessie and her father would both prefer that her fiancé wasn't a Jacobite-on-the-run wanted for treason. I understand your concern for Jessie's reputation, but perhaps it would be safer and wiser for a betrothal to take place after I've been pardoned."

Robert leveled a heavy look upon her. "And of course, if Jessie and her father consent." He arched a dark eyebrow. "What say you, Jessie?"

Jessie looked away from his questioning gaze, trying to think clearly. She could scarcely believe this was happening. Handfasted to Robert Grant—a Jacobite and roguish pirate adventurer—it was madness!

But deep in her heart, she wasn't completely shocked by the earl's suggestion. A part of her thrummed with excitement at the thought of being joined in wedded union to such a man. Although she'd only known him for a few days, she couldn't deny her deep attraction to Robert Grant. She wanted to be near him. With him.

But how did Robert feel about her? He seemed to care a little . He would surely not be considering this if he did not desire her a wee bit. Even the earl had noticed that his son seemed to show a genuine concern for her.

Was that enough of a basis for a marriage? Especially to someone like her, a virtually penniless woman who was essentially a servant?

Jessie bit her lip, fervently wishing she had more time to contemplate the matter. Things were happening too quickly, events slipping through her fingers, spiraling out of control. Perhaps, when Robert was free and if he chose to propose, she could seriously consider such an offer. Even then, she hoped love might be part of the equation—a condition not always necessary for marriage, especially for members of the nobility, but in her mind, affection and a degree of devotion were highly desirable. Especially when the man in question clearly had a strong streak of "rakehell" running through him...

She couldn't give her whole-hearted consent, not now. She doubted Robert could either. Indeed, neither of them should be forced into a betrothal. And then there were the wishes of her father to consider. What would he want for her future?

Jessie was conscious of both men staring at her, waiting for her to respond to Robert's question. She lifted her gaze to the earl's and cleared her throat. "I agree with Robert, milord. I see no need to rush into anything. And I would prefer to have my father's blessing before I accept any offer of marriage."

Lord Strathburn's gaze softened as he regarded her. "I understand, lass, but as the Chief of Clan Grant of Strathburn, and guardian of all those within my household, I have a duty of care that I cannot ignore." He reached out and took her hand. "I would much prefer that you were within the safe care of Robert on your way to Edinburgh. I cannot allow you to make that long journey by yourself. Indeed, I could never forgive myself, and I very much think your father would hold me to account, if you were left unprotected. You've already suffered enough as it is, no thanks to Simon." Lord Strathburn stood and faced his son, an obstinate set to his jaw. "Robert, I insist that you and Miss Munroe are handfasted before me, right now. I will not write the request for clemency until you do."

Even Jessie could see that the Earl of Strathburn would not be swayed. The determined look in his eyes, the rigidity of his bearing, spoke of a formidable spirit. She suddenly had an inkling of how he must have appeared ten years ago when he'd forbidden Robert to lead out the clan to war. No wonder Robert had been certain he would not be welcomed home.

Robert sighed heavily and dragged a hand across his jaw as if suddenly resigned to his fate. Like a man about to walk the scaffold. "As you wish Father," he replied gravely. "We will be handfasted. But"—he turned to Jessie—"only if you consent."

Jessie stared at the breathtakingly handsome man on the opposite side of the hearthrug. A sliver of dismay penetrated her chest as she noted the fine lines of tension radiating from the corners of his eyes, bracketing his perfectly sculpted mouth. There was a muscle ticking in his jaw while he waited for her reply. Her answer would determine whether or not Lord Strathburn would help him gain his pardon. The earl was essentially holding Robert to ransom. It was hardly fair.

And yet what other choice did she have?

She raised her chin. "I had no' anticipated this turn of events, Robert, and I'm truly sorry to have placed ye in such a situation." She paused for a moment before she stepped over the precipice of no return. Her heart began to beat faster, an unsteady gallop within her chest. She sensed Robert was holding his breath. "But as I do no' wish to stand in the way of yer chances at obtaining clemency, I…I will agree to be handfasted to you as well."

Robert inclined his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight smile. A smile which only reinforced how reluctant he was to make this commitment.

Jessie suddenly felt lightheaded as the enormity of what she had agreed to do hit her in the chest like an unleashed cannonball.

Apparently oblivious to the mood in the room, Lord Strathburn rubbed his hands together and grinned broadly. "Excellent, all will be set to rights." As awkward silence reigned, he crossed to his desk and retrieved a long, fine wool scarf of Clan Grant tartan from a drawer. "For the binding of hands," he remarked as he returned to the fireside.

Robert assisted Jessie to her feet. The touch of his hands on her arm and at the small of her back burned through to the flesh beneath her clothes. She recalled how Robert's hands had felt on her skin when he'd helped her to undress in the hunting lodge. When they were married, it would be his right as her husband to touch her in any way that he liked. A shiver—whether of anticipation or trepidation she couldn't have said—slid through Jessie at the thought.

When Robert and Jessie took up positions before Lord Strathburn on the hearthrug, she stole a glance at her husband-to-be's face. It was as though his features were cast in stone, the look in his eyes grim. This was not how she imagined her betrothal would be. She'd always wanted smiles and heart-fluttering joy, not awkwardness bordering on outright unwillingness …

Inhaling a fortifying breath, she forced herself to focus on what Lord Strathburn was now saying.

"Robert and Jessie, I want you to join hands," he said smiling at them both.

At least someone is happy, thought Jessie darkly as Robert threaded his fingers through hers. The earl then carefully wrapped the tartan scarf around their wrists and hands, binding them together.

"Now, Robert," the earl continued, "I want you to repeat the following words after me."

Robert dutifully and solemnly repeated the simple vow of betrothal. His dark blue eyes held Jessie's as he spoke. "I, Robert James Alexander Grant, the Viscount Lochrose and Master of Strathburn, promise to take you, Jessie Munroe, to be my wife." He squeezed her hands gently beneath the tartan and gave her a brief half-smile of encouragement. It was gone so quickly, she couldn't tell whether the smile had reached his eyes.

Now it was her turn. Jessie's mouth was as dry as the nearby hearthstone, but somehow she managed to speak. "I-I, Jessie Elizabeth Munroe promise to take you, Robert James Alexander Grant, the Viscount Lochrose and Master of Strathburn, to be my husband." She tried to smile back at Robert but only managed a tremulous quiver of her lips.

Lord Strathburn addressed them again. "As the Chief of Clan Grant, I have born witness to your promises to each other, and I now declare you to be handfasted."

Robert took a step forward and raised their tied hands to his lips. Between the folds of tartan, he placed a gentle kiss on her fingertips.

" Mo nighean ruadh mhaiseach ," he murmured in Gaelic, his wide mouth lifting into a soft smile. My beautiful red-haired one. "I will protect you and care for you, from this day forward."

But would he love her?

Even more importantly, would Robert ever be free to love her?

With all her heart, and every fiber of her being, Jessie prayed that he would.