Bridgette sighed with disgruntlement. “Graham risked his life to save mine and suffered a grave injury because of me. I owe him, and what he wants is my hand in marriage, so I’ll give it.”
“I don’t think marrying because you feel guilty is wise. And I think Graham also wants your heart…” Marion gave Bridgette a pointed look.
Bridgette scowled at her Sassenach friend who did not totally understand the Scottish ways yet. “We Scots live and die by honor and guilt, Marion. It would be dishonorable of me to overlook what he did for me.”
Marion’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It would be wrong for you to marry a man you do not love. In doing so, you steal away the possibility of love for yourselfandhim.”
Marion’s words struck deep within Bridgette. She’d not considered that she would be cheating Graham out of a chance to find a woman who truly loved him. She had told him that her heart belonged to another, and he had said it didn’t matter, but had he really considered that he could find a woman whose heart belonged fully and completely to him?
“Ye’re right. I kinnae marry him,” she whispered, the certainty filling her.
Marion’s eyes widened as she hugged Bridgette. “Thank heaven you have finally listened to me and accepted the truth! I’ve been so worried that you would proceed with the marriage no matter what!”
Bridgette nodded. “I would have. I’ve been intending to. But I kinnae. I will be ruining his chances to find true love.” She’d been prepared to sacrifice her own chances, but she could not sacrifice his.
Marion nodded. “He’s going to try to change your mind.”
“Aye,” Bridgette agreed. “He’s going to be angry with me.”
“Yes, likely very. You and Lachlan will need to wait a spell before—
Bridgette scrambled to her feet and rounded on her well-meaning, hopelessly impractical friend who was ignoring the truth because it suited her. But Bridgette could not ignore it, even for a breath. “How do ye ken Lachlan and I would ever occur?” Bridgette demanded, borrowing Marion’s tactic of moments ago.
Marion bit her lip. “Perchance if Graham finds love with someone else, then Lachlan would allow himself to be with you.”
Bridgette snorted. “Marion MacLeod, ye’re a dreamer. I’ve given up on the fantasy of Lachlan and me, and ye need to, as well. Vow to me ye won’t meddle.”
Marion quirked her mouth. “But—”
“Pledge it to me,” Bridgette asserted again.
Guilt flashed across Marion’s face.
Bridgette groaned. “Did ye tell Iain of my feelings for Lachlan?”
“I don’t remembertellinghim,” Marion said, her fidgeting suggesting she either implied something to Iain or was lying.
Bridgette squeezed her eyes shut and silently reminded herself that Marion had done what she had out of love. “Dunnae tell Iain I’ll nae be marrying Graham. Please. I’d hate for Graham to learn it from anyone but me.”
“I won’t. I vow it,” Marion replied.
When Bridgette opened her eyes, Marion was standing. “I have to away to try to find some herbs that I desperately need but have thus far been unable to locate.”
Normally Bridgette would offer to help, but it was getting late and she was very tired. After Marion departed, Bridgette stripped to only her léine, climbed into bed, and fell immediately asleep. Before too long, dreams of Lachlan filled her head.
“I’d like to kiss ye to give ye a better memory,” Lachlan said, staring at her with heavy-lidded eyes.
“I dunnae think a kiss has that much power,” she said.
Lachlan’s mouth claimed hers in a kiss that stole her breath. He quickly moved from her mouth to her neck and then to her chest. His lips brushed a searing path down her skin while his fingers deftly pulled down her gown. A cool breeze hit her bare skin and gave her gooseflesh, but when his fiery mouth came to her breast and he suckled it, she no longer felt the slightest bit chilled. She was on fire with how much she wanted him. Her back arched toward him in a desperate attempt to have him take more of her body into his hot mouth. His hands slid over her hips and down to the edge of her gown. As he raised it up, his hand glided between her thighs, only stopping when he touched her at her juncture. His fingers brushed light as a feather over her sensitive spot, and a cry of need tore from her lips.
