Her eyes searched his face. “Even if your father and hers want the match?”
“I will choose whom I take to wife.”
“And they’ll let you? There won’t be repercussions?”
He shrugged. “I’ll nae deny that my father has wanted the marriage. Fergus Gordon is one of the best solicitors in Scotland. He has connections in Parliament. To have Fiona as a daughter-in-law would be beneficial to my father. Much like he does everything else for his benefit.”
She chewed her lip again. “If Mr. Gordon is that powerful, can he make trouble for you or your family if you don’t marry Fiona?”
“I doona think he would.” He shrugged again. “Even he did, ’tis nae his decision or my da’s. The decision is mine.” He picked up Charlotte’s hand and, this time, it was his that was trembling as he pressed it to his heart. “’Tis ye I love, lass. Nae other.”
Her eyes rounded like saucers and then she threw herself against him with enough force that the buggy rocked and the horse danced in its brace. “I love you, too!”
And then, there were no more words spoken as their kisses became heated and nearly savage in intensity. He slipped his hands under her cloak, allowing his thumbs to caress the sides of her breasts before sliding down to cup her arse and pull her onto his lap, where his manhood was already hard and throbbing. It was all Niall could do not to tear at their clothing, even though they were in the middle of a busy road and April was still chilly. He suspected they were radiating enough heat to start a fire with wet wood.
Loud cheering and clapping finally penetrated his senses, and he broke the kissing to look up and see a number of passersby had stopped and were evidently enjoying the show he and Charlotte had been putting on. Carefully, he withdrew his hands and set her back on the bench.
“Pay them nae mind,” he whispered as he picked up the reins and snapped the leads. “We’ll be gone from here in no time.”
To his surprise, she laughed and then turned to the crowd and waved before turning back to him. “I don’t mind at all.”
He grinned. “Are ye going to be full of surprises like this?”
She grinned back. “I’ll do my best to try.”
****
“Will ye sit down and stop prowling like a fox near a chicken coop?” Niall’s father gestured toward a seat in the council room. “We’ve got business to discuss.”
They certainly did. Niall yanked the chair out and straddled it, much too tense to sit still. His uncle Charles had just returned from a meeting with General Murray and the prince. The news was not good.
“So Prince Charlie is nae willing to listen to reason?” he asked.
His uncle looked a bit uncomfortable. “Let’s just say he doesna agree with the general on strategy.”
“Murray has the right of it,” Niall said. “Guerilla tactics helped Robert the Bruce win three hundred fifty years ago. We have nae the cannons nor cavalry that the English do, but we ken the terrain and we ken how to use it to our advantage.”
“Be that as it may, the prince dinna agree,” his uncle answered.
“At least,” Niall continued to argue, “he could have heeded the advice to hold our line on the ridge by Dalcross. We would have the advantage of the hill.”
“Aye, but Prince Charlie wants to meet the English head-on.”
‘On an open field.” When Niall had first heard his uncle mention Drummossie Moor at Culloden, his blood had run cold. Events were taking shape exactly as Charlotte had told him they would.
“Colonel O’Sullivan convinced the prince a Highland Charge would be more effective if there was running room.”
Niall snorted. “The man’sIrish. What does he ken about a Highland Charge?”
“The Irish have been good fighters thus far,” Simon commented. “The prince wouldna want to antagonize them.”
“Besides,” their uncle added, “Prince Charlie also thinks more French forces will still arrive in time to aid us.”
From what Charlotte had told him, King Louis wasn’t sending any more troops. To hold out that hope when only a few days remained before Cumberland would reach Nairn was foolishness. With a sigh, Niall turned to his father. “What do ye think of the matter?”
“We all ken how stubborn Charlie can be.” He shrugged. “Besides, ’tis hard to deny a prince.”
“Does that mean ye’ll follow him blindly?”
