Noah hesitatedfor only a moment before nodding. “Aye, Me Laird.”
He moved away,positioning himself at a distance that offered both privacy and protection.
Hector turned backto Gabriella and stepped closer. The stone alcove suddenly felt intimate, his presence filling the small space with warmth and strength.
“I have an idea, lass,”he said, his deep voice rumbling with quiet determination, “but ye may nae like it…”
Gabriella straightened her spine,forcing steel into her voice despite her fear. “What is it?”
His eyesnever left hers as the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them, the answer hanging between them like a whispered promise. Or a sentence.
16
Hector stepped closer, his imposing frame blocking her from the curious villagers’ view. “We should marry.”
The words hungin the air between them.
Gabriella stared at him,certain she had misheard.
“I beg yer pardon?”she blurted, her voice barely above a whisper
“Marry me,”Hector repeated, his tone matter-of-fact, as if he were proposing nothing more significant than a change in dinner plans. “If ye become me wife, Lewis wouldnae dare touch ye. The wife of Laird McCulloch is untouchable. Harmin’ ye will mean bringin’ the wrath of the entire clan upon his head.”
Gabriella’s mindraced to make sense of his words. Marriage? To a Highland laird? The very idea was absurd. She was a tavern girl, not a lady of gentle breeding or wealth or connections.
“But—France,”she stammered. “And our agreement.”
“Would need to be amended,”he sighed. His expression remained unreadable, though something flickered in the depths of his eyes. “Ye’d have the protection of me name, me clan, me sword. Lewis would be a fool to pursue ye.”
The stone wallof the alcove felt suddenly necessary against her back as Gabriella contemplated what he was suggesting.
Marriage meant remaining in Scotland.It meant giving up the fresh start she’d dreamed of since her capture. But it also meant safety from the man who had haunted her waking moments and terrorized her sleep.
“This isnae what ye agreed to,”she said, watching his face carefully. “Ye promised me passage to France after a month.”
“Aye, I did.”Hector’s gaze was steady, unflinching. “But circumstances have changed. Lewis kens ye’re here now. He’ll likely nae stop huntin’ ye. In Scotland or France.”
Freedom or safety.The choice lay before her. Neither option was what she had envisioned for herself when Hector had first rescued her from the hunt.
“Would I be exchangin’one prison for another?” Gabriella asked, her voice low but firm. “Bound to ye instead of being sold by Lewis?”
Something flashedacross Hector’s face—a fleeting hurt quickly masked by his usual stoicism.
“There’s a vast difference, lass,”he said evenly. “Lewis sought to own ye. I offer protection through a legal bond.”
“A bondthat gives ye rights over me nonetheless.”
“Aye,in the eyes of the law. But nae in practice.” Hector’s gaze held hers, unwavering. “Ye would have freedoms within Castle McCulloch. Yer own chambers. Authority over the household as its lady. I wouldnae force ye to do anythin’ against yer will.”
Gabriella’s fingerstwisted in her skirts as she considered his words. As lady of the castle, she would have a position, respect—things she’d never known at the tavern. But marriage meant vows of obedience, of duty.
“The ceremony would be small,”Hector continued, correctly reading her hesitation. “Nothin’ ostentatious that might draw attention. Just enough to make it legal and known.”
“And what of…”She hesitated, heat rising to her cheeks. “What about the marriage bed?”
The cornerof his mouth twitched slightly. “As I said, lass, I willnae force ye to do anythin’ against yer will.”
“But a non-consummated marriage can be annulled,”she countered, surprising herself with the knowledge gleaned from overheard tavern conversations.
