Page 117 of The Highlander Is All That

“There’s a loch by my manor. It’s great fun to go fishing or boating.”

“You have a manor?” She’d never known. Never asked.

“Aye.” He sat at the table and signaled for an ale. “Creaky old thing. Been in the family for ages.” He leaned in and added, “Hardly haunted at all.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“I like it. And Catriona . . . She loves it too.”

“You must miss her.”

“Aye. I do. But it won’t be long before we have you all married and I can return to her.”

The reminder that he would one day leave hit her and hit her hard. She must have paled because he took her hand. “What is it, Anne?”

“You will go back.”

“Of course I will. It’s my home.”

“I’ll miss you when you go.”

Pain flickered over his features. “And I you.” His hold tightened. “But we doona have to part.”

Her throat closed. She stared at him.

“Could you live in Scotland, wee Anne?”

Oh God. She would be happy anywhere, if she was with him.

The realization floored her. She hadn’t expected this. This . . . feeling. Not so fast. Not so completely.

But this was a foolish whimsy, wasn’t it? Could she really leave her life, her family, and move to Scotland?

“My sisters . . .”

He leaned closer. “We can visit them. I’ve offered Jamison a job, if he wants it. He and Mary are welcome at Bowermadden. So is Victoria. And, for that matter, Elizabeth, if she needs a place to stay.”

It was a tempting thought indeed. But . . . “And Aunt Esmeralda?”

He grimaced and then blew out a sigh. “All right, her too.” Fortunately, Anne could tell he was teasing.

But then, he sobered. “All I know is I want you in my life, Anne. I want you to be my wife. If we have to live in London”—he shuddered—“I can make that happen.”

She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “I’ve never been fond of London.”

“Have you no’? You seem so at home there.”

“I’ve always secretly longed to run barefoot in the grass.”

His expression brightened. “You? No!” His laugh was a melody. “How provident then, that we have grass in Halkirk. The thickest, sweetest grass you ever saw.”

A horrible thought occurred. “What if Catriona doesn’t like me?”

He shook his head. “She will love you. She’s always wanted a mum. But . . .”

“But what?”

“What if you doona like her?”