Talorc grimaced. "And the Balmoral would say she is everything that is wonderful
in a wife."
"But you do not say so?"
"She called me a goat." He gave Abigail one of his rare smiles. "She is not you."
Her hand flew to her mouth and she shook her head. She would not cry like a
ninny, but no one had ever said anything so lovely to her. Not even Emily. That it was her
usually taciturn husband made it all the more special. "Thank you."
He shrugged and she grinned, knowing he had done so on purpose to tease her
with what she still considered a non-answer.
Then his eyes grew serious as they usually did only at night in their bedchamber.
"You are mine."
Abigail could not hold it in any longer. She jumped to her feet and leapt into her
husband's arms. "Is it any wonder I am in love with you?" And without a thought to
propriety, she kissed him exuberantly, first on his lips and then all over his face.
She could feel his laughter rumbling in his chest. Leaning back, she looked him in
the eye, her expression as earnest as she could make it. "You are the best husband any
woman could ever wish for."
She rejoiced daily that he and Emily had not found each other as pleasing.
Talorc looked down at her with mock severity. "Such a display is most unseemly,
my angel. Clearly this is behavior you learned in England."
"Yes, because Sybil was always so open with her affection." Abigail could not hold
back the laughter bubbling up and made no effort to do so.
The idea of her mother kissing her father, much less anyone else, in the courtyard
of their keep was so ludicrous it was impossible to even imagine.
Talorc did not laugh, but his half smile might as well have been a belly rolling mirth
as far as Abigail was concerned. "I see I will have to teach you the proper way to treat
your laird in a public setting."
"By all means, teach me," she offered saucily and without the least worry. After all,
her feet were no longer on the ground because his hold on her was so secure.
"You should not kiss your husband thus," he said quite severely.