Page 104 of To Wed a Wild Scot
Juliana sucked in a shaky breath as he continued to whisper to her, a mix of words in Gaelic and English. He knew she didn’t understand all of what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. She could hear the tenderness, the love in his voice.
“I want you here, Ana.” He brushed his lips against her forehead. “You’re my wife, and I never want to be apart from you. You and Grace, you’re my family now.”
Juliana choked down a sob and nodded, her forehead still against his.
“Fergus?” Without taking his eyes off Juliana, Logan reached out, caught Grace’s hand, and eased her against his side. “Is our carriage ready? My family’s tired. I want to take them home.”
“Aye, it’s ready.” Fergus hurried to the entryway, leading them out into the stable yard. The carriage was waiting there for them, fresh horses in the traces. Fergus opened the door for them, and waved them inside with a flourish. “Ye’ll come back and see me soon, won’t ye, Miss Grace?” he asked, as Logan lifted Grace into the carriage.
“Yes, I will,” Grace promised, scrambling across the seat.
Fergus stuck his head inside the carriage and met Logan’s gaze. There was a good deal of humor twinkling in Fergus’s blue eyes, but there was seriousness there, too. “I told ye ye’d have yer hands full with this one.” He nodded at Juliana. “These sassy, wily sorts make the best wives, ye ken?”
Logan nodded, his gaze drifting back to Juliana’s face. “Aye, Fergus. I ken.”
“Well then, lad, I s’pose I’ll let ye take her home.” Fergus was still chuckling to himself as he closed the door.
They were halfway to Castle Kinross when the sun set. Grace went quiet, and when Logan glanced over, he saw she’d fallen asleep. He wrapped his arm tighter around Juliana’s shoulders, and she nestled into his side.
Logan pressed his lips into her hair. “I have something for you,bhean.” He reached into his coat pocket and drew out the oathing stone. “I made it weeks ago. I wanted to give it to you on our wedding day, but now I’m glad I waited.”
He held out his hand to her, the oathing stone resting on his palm. Juliana took it up with trembling fingers, and ran her fingertip over their carved names, her breath catching on a sob.
“It’s not much of a wedding present, but I thought you’d—”
Juliana pressed her fingers to his lips to hush him. “It’s perfect.”
He kissed her fingertips. “Tha gaol agam ort, breagha bhean. I love you, Ana.”
She raised her hand to his cheek. The carriage was dark, but he could feel her green eyes caressing his face. “I love you too, Logan. So much.”
He leaned over her, and his lips met hers. When he pulled away, they were both breathless.
“Logan,” she whispered, after they’d been quiet for a moment. “Are you ever going to teach me Gaelic?”
He laughed. “I will someday, but not tonight.”
He took her warm lips again. She melted against him, and every thought fled his mind as he gathered her close to his heart, safe and warm in his arms. “Bhean ghràdhach,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair. “Agaibh mo chridhe. You have my heart.”
Epilogue
Six weeks later
“Logan Blair, you owe me an explanation!”
Juliana burst into their bedchamber, ready to take Logan to task for his most serious transgression yet, but as soon as she caught sight of him, she stopped short. “Oh. What are you doing in the bath?”
She hadn’t seen him since they’d woken this morning. He and Fitzwilliam had been fishing with Grace and Duncan Munro all afternoon. Duncan and Grace had met not long after they’d arrived at Castle Kinross. The two children had taken one look at each other, decided they were long-lost souls, and become the best of friends.
“Fitz dumped an entire bucket of herring on me. He claims he tripped and it was an accident, but I know he was lying. Grace and Duncan nearly laughed themselves sick.”
Juliana grinned. No doubt Fitzwilliam had been lying. He and Logan had grown closer over the past six weeks—so close they now treated each other like the brothers they were. In other words, they tormented each other relentlessly. They were so merciless Juliana and Emilia had decided they were making up for their lost youth together, starting at about age nine.
Of course, there was nothing else remotely juvenile about Logan, and at no time was that more evident than when he was in the bath. Juliana’s eager gaze moved over the smooth, slick flesh stretched tight over his hard muscles, and her cheeks heated.
Logan was leaning against the back of the copper tub, his dark hair slicked back from his face. He noticed her blush, and a wicked grin crossed his lips. “What’s the matter,neach-gaoil? Haven’t you ever seen a man in the bath before?”
She had indeed seen a man in the bath before—she’d seenthisman in the bath—but it was a sight that never failed to render her speechless. His spread arms rested on the rim of the tub, leaving the hard, muscular plane of his bare chest completely exposed to her hungry gaze.
