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‘So? Why unwisely?’
‘Come now, Jo. You of the magical mice and mystical cats should know about such things. You cannot challenge a Highland laird in a stone circle in his own domain and expect to come off scot free.’
‘I’ll never be free of Scots,’ she muttered and moved away from the rock, but he placed his other palm on it, fencing her in. She debated ducking under his arms but that was childish. And she didn’t want to leave either ring—not of his arms, not of this magic he was spinning.
She forced herself to look up, which was an error, because even in the mist of fine rain she saw his eyes were blazing with heat.
‘I’ll make very certain of that, sweet Jo.’
‘They will see us...’
‘Dougal and Ewan are clever fellows. They will take their time turning the carriage. I wish our ancestors had planned better when they created these behemoths—they would do much better with a roof. I need a roof right now, and a bed, and a fire and some whisky to lick off your...’
‘Benneit,’ she moaned, half-protest, half-supplication.
‘Then say yes, blast it.’ That too was half-supplication.
‘Of course I’ll come back to Lochmore. Oh, God, everyone will think I am quite mad and I dare say I am. I should get in that carriage and go. You are not good for me, Benneit.’
‘Don’t say that. Please, Jo.’
He pulled her against him, his arms tight. She felt his mouth moving against her damp hair, his words muffled but filled with a pain she did not understand unless it was guilt or regret. She ran her hands up and down his back, slipping under his coat, trying to reassure him. She did not want him to feel guilty. She made her own choices.
‘I’m sorry, I should not have said that. It is not your fault I am weak.’
‘I’m not so gracious. It is definitely your fault I am weak, Jo. I’ve been in hell for weeks. Well, swinging between heaven and hell. And then for two hours riding back from the McCrieffs’ I was in heaven only to find you flown. I had everything ready in my mind. Everything I wanted to tell you, finally, and beg you and then seduce you and you were gone. And for ten whole endless minutes I actually believed you wanted to be shot of us.’
He let her go and sank to his knee. The mud squelched in protest and instinctively she reached out and tried to draw him to his feet. But he merely took her hand, wrapping his around it and bending to kiss it as gently as a butterfly wing buffing a rose. The touch was gentle, but the impact was like the lightning scarring the sky—it seared her insides, lighting her from within.
‘Benneit! What are you doing?’ Her voice was as weak as her will and he looked up and smiled and what was left of her senses surrendered unconditionally. If she did not have the rock behind her, she would have sunk to the mud on her knees next to him.
‘I am taking advantage. You cannot deny me here inside the standing stones. It would be bad luck and we’ve both had enough of that. What I beg for, you must grant.’
‘Benneit...’
‘I’m on my knees, Jo. Well, one knee. Two would be rather precarious in this mud. If you leave—’ his voice turned hoarse and he pressed her hand to his forehead ‘—I don’t know what I will do. I should say I will manage. For Jamie’s sake. I dare say I will. But I don’t want to. I’m selfish and I want you with me. I need you with me.’
‘I already said I will stay until...’
He tugged and she sank on to the mud.
‘My dress!’
‘Devil take your dress, woman. And stop saying “until”. The only “until” is until I’m dead and buried. This is Scotland—I’m marrying you right here in the blasted mud. We’ll have a proper ceremony so Lady Theale can gloat over the success of her machinations since I wouldn’t be surprised if her devious mind foresaw this. But this is between us, here. I stole you back from the sea and you’re mine and we are sealing that fact here in good Highland fashion—in the rain, in the mud and with some blasted druid’s spirit hanging over these rocks and ready to topple them on us if you say nay. I love you, Jo. Do you care for me?’
