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“I love you,” he interrupted her as though he could not contain it in him any longer.
Her jaw dropped, and she took several seconds to collect it back. “Y-you—” her voice drowned in her overflowing emotions.
He paced to her, caught her shoulders, the intensity in him almost palpable. “The day you abducted me was the happiest day of my life,” he confessed.
“Lachlan,” was all she had breath to say.
“You brought me here, and you allured me with your beauty, your fierceness, your intelligence.”
Her eyes devoured him as she remained unable to speak.
“And you gave me a renewed sense of purpose, to take care of you, your clan,” he rasped. “You turned my life upside down, and I love you for that.”
“Oh, Lachlan,” she sighed. “I’ve been obsessed with you since we met at the McPherson.”
He exhibited a triumphant smile. It nearly blinded her with its sincerity. “Can’t say I didn’t notice you, either.” To her utter surprise.
“We worked side by side, and I realised you were everything I wanted in a husband.”
“Minus the lasses,” he jested.
“I’m sorry for that.” She apologised for her fears.
“Don’t be.” He pulled her closer. “It showed you cared for me.”
“Care?” she asked as if it was an absurdity. “I love you like a crazy ninny!”
“Crazy, maybe, but ninny…” he quipped.
In a quick move, he lifted her in his arms and took her to bed.
“You’re calling me crazy?” she confronted him with a playful pleat between her brows.
He lay down beside her. “
I am crazy,” he said as his hand went up to undo his tartan. “For you.”
While he was at it, her hands sneaked under the hem of the plaid. And advanced up to find him rock-hard. “Hm, definitely everything I wanted in a husband.”
He groaned and stopped undressing. “You’ll lose the fun pretty soon if you continue at it.”
“Pity, it’s so delicious.”
He flipped her on her back and hovered over her. “I’ll show you what’s delicious,”
Her lips opened in a dazzling smile. “Please do.” And cradled him to her.
In a warm day in August, entire clans gathered at the chapel’s garden, the Darrochs, the McDougals, the McKendricks, the McPhersons, and the McTavishes. And even those not related to the McKendricks.
No one wished to miss the gorgeous Lachlan receiving his official recognition as The Darroch. The paperwork had gone through and Lachlan and Moira decided to organise a celebration.
Solemnly, Harris held Malcom’s tartan folded over his stretched arms. Over it lay the golden pin, the sporran, and the ceremonial sword. “As the former heir,” he started. “I name Lachlan The Darroch.” They stood on a dais where everyone could see them.
The people exploded in cheers as Lachlan bowed and accepted Malcom’s tartan with a respectful stance. “Thank you, Harris.” And gestured to Moira to step up. When she did, he continued. “My beloved wife has been fighting the Darroch’s corner for a long time. In view of that, I declare her also Laird Darroch. I’ll support and follow her every decision as I would any laird here.”
Moira looked at him stunned, and in an impulse, she laced his neck and kissed him the way she should have on her wedding day.
The crowd looked surprised for a moment, but burst out in cheers. “Hail Laird and Laird Darroch!” they cried.
