Page 87 of Beguiled By the Highlander

“Ye bested him.” There was no mistaking the pride in his voice, and a strange, pleasurable pain filled her heart. Once, she’d be so certain that the despised William Campbell would deride her skills with a blade.

How wrong she had been. About so many things.

His thumb brushed across her lips. How could so gentle a caress fill her with such longing?

“What of yer fierce Pict queen ancestor? Ye once told me ye’re blood-bound to ensure her legacy endures. Can it endure beyond the Isle of Eigg?”

The Deep Knowing whispered through her mind, and before she could stop herself, spilled from her lips. “The bloodline of the Isle must prevail beyond quietus.”

All her life she’d been convinced of its meaning.

The daughters of Sgur’s bloodline could not leave the Isle.

But did it really mean that? In the end, even her grandmother had questioned it, by forging an alliance with Bruce Campbell, the baron of Dunstrunage.

The alliance is to keep ye safe.

She still didn’t understand what Amma meant by that, but one thing was for sure. Her path was no longer confined to the Small Isles.

William gave her a quizzical look but didn’t question her, and instead of guilt that she had shared the secret with him, only relief washed through her, as though a burden had been lifted from her soul.

She’d been right to tell him. And although she might never comprehend the full truth of the Deep Knowing, she understoodenough to know that by leaving her beloved isle, she was still following her destiny.

“I’ll always be a daughter of the Isle, William. But my heritage is my own, and that will never change, wherever I may live. Her legacy will endure, and maybe it’s simply time for her bloodline to reach beyond the isle she loved so fiercely.”

His hand trailed from her face, along her arm, and grasped her fingers, and his smile was as potent as the first glimpse of sun after a dark winter of rain. “Could ye truly choose Creagdoun over Sgur?”

“I choose ye, William Campbell, over Sgur. Wherever we live, so long as ye’re there, is my home.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. His warm breath caressed her skin, and he pressed her fingers against his jaw as his gaze caught hers.

“And I choose ye, Isolde MacDonald of Sgur Castle and daughter of the Isle. Ye’re so much more than I ever dreamed a bride of mine could be.” Slowly, he opened his fist, and she gazed at the beautiful gold ring, engraved with sprigs of heather and set with emeralds, that lay on his palm. “Would ye do me the honor of wearing my ring, Isolde? It once belonged to my lady mother, and her mother before her.” He drew in a ragged breath. “I was going to give it to ye, to take with ye to yer isle, so ye’d always have a reminder of the Campbell whose heart ye stole. But it’s yers, whether ye stay or go. And so is my heart.”

She gave a choked laugh and held out her hand so he could slide it onto her finger. Then she flung her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear.

“I’ll never leave ye. And my heart is yers, my noble, beloved, Campbell from the sea.”

The End