Page 85 of Christmas at Castle Dunrannoch

Ursula had that feeling.

She didn’t need to run away from Rye.

He wasn’t marrying her because that was what his family were insisting upon.

He wasn’t marrying her from any sense of duty.

And he wasn’t marrying her for her inheritance. She knew this for certain because she still hadn’t told him, although she’d had to come clean to the pastor about her real name, and to Rye too, for the sake of legalities. It had been time to own up to not being Miss Abernathy and, strangely enough, Rye hadn’t acted in the least surprised, nor appeared to care.

He was making her his because he wanted her in his arms and in his heart, and he wanted to face every bit of what came next together.

When he looked deep into her eyes, she saw that he looked serious, and just a little nervous.

“You ready to take the leap, little bear?”

“I am—if you’re jumping with me.”

There was the smile again. “We’re gonna jump right in together.” He pressed his lips to her ear. “You and me. Every day, over and over.”

And Ursula smiled right back.

Meanwhile, from the battlements, the ghost of Camdyn Dalreagh looked down. He’d put away his bagpipes for the time being, having no intention of playing them any time soon. Instead, he’d tucked McTavish under his arm.

Together, they’d watch over Castle Dunrannoch and the newlyweds.

McTavish would surely leave an occasional offering on the crisp quilt of Lord and Lady Balmore’s bedchamber, but it would always be given with love.