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He slumped on the seat again and pulled her down to join him, giving a sharp little laugh as he did so.

“’Tis me heart, Aileen MacAlpin. Me poor heart.”

She looked at him in alarm as he slipped off the seat to bend one knee and rest the other on the grass before her. “Yer heart?”

“It feels like I’m dying. AndI will die...” He straightened, taking her hand in his and pressing it to his lips. “I will die fer loving ye Aileen MacAlpin, if ye dinnae agree tae marry me.” He blurted out the words so that she almost missed what he said.

“What did ye say? Ye’re dying, and then?”

“Ye’re a wicked woman. Ye heard me full well.”

“Then tell me again about yer impending death.” Now she was laughing.

“Will ye marry me, Aileen MacAlpin?” He roared. “Fer the love of our good Lord Jesus Christ, put me out of this misery and tell me yes.”

Still laughing, she yelled, “Yes, MacNeil, ye silly goose. I love ye truly. Of course, I’ll marry ye.”

His heart bursting into song, he stood, shook off the grass from his kilt, brushed his knees, wrapped his arms around her andlifted her into his arms in an embrace that would have done any giant bear proud.

“I cannae believe it.” He kissed her face all over: her forehead, the tip of her nose, her eyebrows, her eyelids, her long dark eyelashes, her cheeks. At last, he came to her lips and he moaned into her mouth as she toyed with his lower lip and opened to his tongue, winding herself tighter, her hands in his hair, and the whole world disappearing as they shared their lovers’ kiss.

But there’s more…