The sounds hinted that they weren’t the only ones to have left the hall’s feasting at its most lively, raucous hour. He glanced at Mirabelle beside him, aware that waiting any longer would’ve been impossible. Hadn’t he spent a lifetime yearning for her? “Sweet lass, hear me well before we enter this room.” He put all the love he felt for her into the endearment as he set his hand on her door latch. He didn’t open it. “No one below will doubt that you are mine. Leastways, everyone in the hall now kens that I want you.” He let his gaze flick to his MacKenzie stag’s-head brooch, pinned so proudly to her gown. “Men have seen that my intentions are honorable and earnest. Even so, I will leave you here, to your night’s rest, if you wish.” “You know what I want.” She looked up at him, her lustrous hair spilling around her shoulders, gleaming in the light of a wall sconce. Her cheeks were flushed, Sorley hoped with pleasure and excitement. Her eyes sparkled like sapphires, lovelier than ever and filled with an emotion that humbled him, or would have if he weren’t so damned proud to see it there.
