"But that's what I said about… you."
"I love you, Bridgid. Will you marry me?"
Brodick didn't know what the hell he was going to do. He felt as though his hands were tied behind his back because Morgan was his elder and he therefore couldn't browbeat him into ordering Gillian to go home with her husband, and he sure as certain couldn't tear the man's home apart searching for her. At the root of his frustration lurked the dark possibility that Gillian would never forgive him for breaking his word to her, but life without her at his side would be unbearable.
Ramsey might have been able to help him sway the baron-he was the diplomat, after all-but he was too busy wooing Bridgid to think about anything else. It had taken him a good hour to convince her he was sincere and determined to marry her, and after she had finally agreed to his proposal, they'd left for home. Iain hadn't stayed around to help either, as he was anxious to get back to his wife.
And that left Brodick to deal with the bad-tempered baron on his own,
Morgan was vastly amused when Brodick didn't eat any of his supper. Just as he finally made up his mind to help the poor, lovesick man, Morgan spotted Gillian coming down the stairs.
Brodick's back was to the entrance, and Morgan knew he hadn't spotted his wife.
"Son, you had to have known how stubborn Gillian was before you married her. Anyone who spends more than five minutes with the woman figures that out."
"I knew she was stubborn," Brodick agreed. "But I don't consider that a flaw."
"I think you should leave her here and go on home. You'll be better off."
Brodick was shocked by the obscene suggestion. "I don't have a home without her," he muttered. "How could you think I would leave her?"
"I would," Morgan replied cheerfully. "Tell me, why did you break your word to her?"
"I've already explained why," he snapped.
Morgan snapped back. "Explain it again."
"Because the thought of her in danger was unacceptable to me. I cannot lose her."
"Then don't ever lie to me again."
The sound of her voice made his heart feel as though it were about to burst with joy. He sighed, calm now, for his world suddenly made sense to him again. And then he turned around. "Don't you ever put me through this torment again," he ordered.
"Promise me that you will never lie to me again."
"Not until you promise me that you'll stop taking such foolish risks. When Proster told me you were inside with that bastard, I thought I was going to… damn it, you scared the hell out of me, Gillian, and I never want to go through that again."
"You hurt me."
"I know."
"That's all you have to say? You know you hurt me? Then I'm staying here. Go home, Brodick."
"Fine," he answered. Bowing to Baron Morgan, he walked out of the hall. She waited until the doors had closed behind him and then burst into tears.
"He's leaving me," she cried as she ran to her uncle.
"You just told him to leave," he pointed out.
"He's going home without me."
"But you just told him to," he argued. "I heard you plain and clear."
"But he never does what I tell him to do. Uncle, how am I going to live without him?"
He awkwardly patted her back, trying to console her. "You'll do just fine."
"I love him so much."
"But he lied to you, remember?"
"He was only trying to be noble. He wanted to protect me."
"Then why didn't you forgive him?"
"I was going to forgive him," she sobbed. "I don't want to live without him. How could he leave me?"
"You're giving me a pounding headache, lass. Sit down and calm yourself," he suggested as he pulled a chair out and gently pushed her down. "Let me go look out the window and see if he's left yet."
"I cannot believe he would leave me," she whispered.
Morgan rolled his eyes heavenward and prayed for patience. Was his niece blind? Couldn't she see how much her husband loved her? He was too old and cranky to deal with a near hysterical woman, and he decided then that matters of the heart should be left to the young. They had more stamina.
He watched Brodick remove the saddle from his horse and toss it to one of his men. All of his soldiers had dismounted and were making themselves at home in his yard. When Brodick started back to the castle, Morgan decided to go upstairs. He'd had enough excitement for one day, and Gillian and her husband needed privacy.
"I'll be right back," he lied. "You stay where you are and wait for me," he hastily added so she wouldn't get the notion she could follow him the way she used to and drive him daft with her complaints until he gave in to whatever it was she wanted. He smiled when he realized she was more stubborn and strong-willed than he was.
Pausing at the entrance, he called out, "You know I love you, girl, don't you?"
"Yes, I know. I love you too, Uncle Morgan."
He started up the stairs then, but stopped when he heard the door open behind him. He didn't have to turn around to know who was there.
"You'll treat her well." It wasn't a question but a statement of fact.
"Yes, sir, I will."
"You don't deserve her."
"I know I don't, but I'm keeping her anyway."
"You know, son, you remind me of someone, but I can't think who it is." He shook his head in bewilderment and then suggested, "You'd best get on inside before she floods my hall with her tears. If anyone could do it, she could."
At the sound of her uncle's laughter, she glanced up and saw Brodick standing in the entrance, watching her. She stood up then and took a step toward him.
"You came back."
"I never left."
As though drawn by a magnet, they moved toward one another.
"You were angry with me. I saw it in your eyes."
"Yes, I was angry. I didn't know if I could keep you safe, and that scared the hell out of me."
He was close enough to take her into his arms, but he didn't dare touch her yet because he knew that once he started kissing her, he wouldn't stop, and he needed to mend the hurt he had caused her. Telling her what was in his heart seemed so easy to him now, and he couldn't understand why he'd been such a fool. Love didn't weaken a man; it strengthened him, made him feel invincible when he had a woman like Gillian at his side.
"I thought you went home."
"How could I go home without you? I've searched my entire life for you. I could never leave you. Home is wherever you are." His hand shook as he gently caressed the side of her face. "Don't you understand? I love you, and I want to wake up with you beside me every morning for the rest of my life. If that means I have to live in England to be with you, then that's what I'll do."
Tears of joy brimmed in her eyes. She was overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings for her and the tender, romantic way he'd told her how he felt.
She knew it was difficult for him. He hid his feelings behind his gruff exterior. She realized then she knew him better than he knew himself. It didn't matter that he'd broken out in a cold sweat or that he looked quite ill now; he'd given her what she needed. Aye, he'd said the words, and he couldn't take them back.
"Say it again," she whispered.
Gritting his teeth, he did as she asked. "I'll live in England."
She blinked. "What?"
"Ah, love, don't make me say it again. If it makes you happy, we'll live here."
She knew he meant it and was staggered by the sacrifice this dear, gentle man was willing to make for her. Lord, she needed to kiss him, but she decided to put him out of his misery first.
"Will it make you happy to live in England?"
Her poor, distraught husband was rapidly turning gray. "If I'm with you, I'll be happy."
She began to laugh. "Then I'm about to make you delirious. I don't want to live in England. I want to live with the Buchanans. Take me home."