Page 32 of Love Me Forever (Highland Duo #2)

She was quick to answer. “Aye, so much so that he appears a different man to me.”

“He remains who he has always been,” Moira said, “except that he has lost his heart to you.”

She grew defensive, though she did not know why. “He gave me a choice.”

“A conditional choice, but then, you cannot bear a child, can you?” Moira asked with a smile.

Brianna sighed, half in frustration and half in relief. “How did you know?”

“It was obvious. You cry all the time, your appetite has increased, and you rest more than usual.”

“Does Ian know?”

Moira shook her head. “He suspects nothing, though he has asked me.”

“And?” Brianna asked anxiously.

“I could not tell him what I did not know.”

“I do not wish to deceive anyone—I only wish to make my own choice.”

Moira patted her arm. “I understand, I felt the same myself, but you cannot avoid Royce for long.”

“I know and I will talk with him when I am ready.”

Moira nodded. “Then I will tell him that you do not feel well, that your head aches and you wish to rest. But there is tomorrow.”

“At least I have tonight.”

“I will see that you have food.”

“Oh, please do, I am so hungry,” Brianna said anxiously.

Moira laughed. “All Royce needs to do is watch you and he will know.”

“Then I will stay away from him until I am ready to talk with him.”

Moira walked to the door. “That will not be easy. He is as determined as you.”

It did not prove easy at all, though Brianna avoided him for the remainder of the night and most of the next day.

When she would catch a glimpse of him, she would quickly vanish, which was her present intention.

She had seen him a short time ago speaking with Ian in the great hall, and she made a hasty stop in the kitchen for bread and cheese and intended to once again spend the evening in her bedchamber.

Quietly she climbed the stairs, and yawning, she slipped into her room, locking the door behind her.

‘Tired?”

She dropped the bread and cheese in fright and turned to face Royce, who was stretched out on her bed.

He immediately stood and walked toward her. “Do not bother to ask me what I am doing here, for you know full well why.”

She scooped up the bread and cheese and walked to the small table near the hearth to set it down.

He was tired of being avoided and followed her. “Why?”

She attempted ignorance. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Do not treat me like a fool.”

He stood close, much too close. She could smell on him the scent of the rich earth and the freshness of a winter’s day. How could he smell so delicious? And how could she be so hungry for him? She retreated a short distance since the hearth was directly behind her.

“There is nowhere for you to go, Brianna. You have no choice but to talk with me.”

She spoke softly. “You have always given me a choice; will you not do so now?”

“If that is what you wish, though first you will answer one question for me.”

She knew what he would ask and attempted to avoid it. ‘Tomorrow we shall talk.”

“You will answer my question first.”

He was adamant; she could tell there would be no changing his mind.

“I have been as patient as I can be.”

It was a warning and she heeded it. She turned her chin up, stuck her chest out, planted her hands on her hips, and waited.

He took a deep breath, his chest expanding, and asked on a hushed whisper, “Will you wed me?”

She had been prepared for a different question, and his query startled her so much that her legs grew weak and she reached out for support. He grabbed her by the shoulders, steadying her.

“Listen well, Brianna.” He stepped closer, his touch turning gentle and his words firm. “I love you and it matters not if you can bear children. I have missed you terribly, and I do not wish to live life without you. I want you as my wife now and always, so again I ask, will you wed me?”

She stared at him wide-eyed, unable to speak, for words failed her. She had expected him to ask her if she carried his child, and instead he asked her to wed him. Had he planned this all along? The thought helped her to respond.

“Had you always intended for the decision to be mine?”

His hands moved to her waist. “I could have it no other way. I could never force you to wed me. The choice has always been yours.”

“Then why insist on my word to wed you if I carry your child if the choice has always been mine?” She brought her hands to rest on his arms. She could feel the warmth of his skin through his linen shirt, and she ached to touch his bare skin. She had missed him so very much.

He grinned. “A good warrior always has a second plan of attack.”

A smile escaped her; she could not contain it. “You planned on being victorious?”

“I never lose.”

“You think I will wed you?”

“I prayed that you would,” he said with a hushed reverence, as though his words were a prayer in themselves.

She stared at him, attempting to understand this legendary warrior, this man who fearlessly entered battles, this man who solemnly prayed that she would wed him, this man who gave her choices.

“You look different,” she said, offering what explanation she could for her behavior. “I thought you different.”

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?” she asked, confused at his request.

‘Trust me and close your eyes.”

He asked for her trust and she gave it. She closed her eyes.

“Listen to my voice. Do I not sound as I always have to you? Do you remember when we first met and you screamed in fear, then when you woke again and I introduced myself?”

She nodded, recalling the moment well and remembering how caring his voice had sounded, just like now.

“I will introduce myself again if you wish me to.”

She smiled as she nodded, interested in what he would say.

He placed his face near hers and whispered, “I am a warrior who has recently seen battle. I was left with many scars. Many I did not think would heal, many that were deep and painful. I thought I could heal on my own; I was determined to heal on my own. Then I met you, who needed to heal from an accident and from her own inner battle. We healed each other. We are alike, you and I, warriors—determined warriors. And I lost my heart to you, and I know you lost your heart to me.”

Tears welled behind her closed eyes.

“You know me well, Brianna, like no other has known me. My looks matter not; do not see me with your eyes, see me with your heart.”

He kissed her cheek, and with his finger to her chin he turned her face so her lips would meet his. His kiss caressed and sent shivers racing through her.

“I love you,” he murmured. “Marry me because you love me—me, Brianna, not the warrior or the legend, but me.”

She could not deny her love for him, and she could not deny that with her eyes closed she heard and envisioned the man she had fallen in love with—the scarred warrior who had captured her heart.

She did as he had suggested: she saw with her heart and chose with her heart. She opened her eyes, a teardrop rolling down her cheek. With her hand to his cheek she said softly, “I love you so very much that it frightens me.”

He kissed her fingers. “There is nothing to fear between you and me.”

“I think that is what frightens me: this love of ours is so powerful, so different, and so beautiful that I wonder if it is real.”

“Never doubt that it is, Brianna, for there is nothing that can prevent us from loving, not even death. This I promise you. Now say you will wed me, for our love demands it.”

She laughed softly and whispered in his ear, “I will wed you, Royce Campbell.”

He caught her around the waist and scooped her up into his strong arms and spun around yelling, “She agrees to wed me!”

“Stop! Stop!” she cried out on a laugh, though it sounded more like a whimper.

The door burst open, and Moira and Anne rushed into the room, Ian and Blair entering close behind them.

“Put her down, you fool—she is with child!” Moira shouted.