Kiss of the Highlander
Page 110

Drustan growled again.
Dageus laughed. “ ‘Tis thanking you I am, Gwen Cassidy. Drustan tells me he regained his memory when you said the spell. The battle occurred as you predicted. ’Twould seem I owe you my life.”
“No,” Gwen protested. “I’m happy I could help, and glad you’re all right.”
“ ‘Tis an old custom. I shall always protect you and yours,” he said, his golden eyes glittering. “And there is the small fact that you have made my brother happier than I’ve ever seen him, so I’m thanking you doubly, lass. Welcome to our family.”
Gwen’s eyes misted. She was part of a family now. Drustan’s arms tightened and he swung her legs up, cradling her. She tipped her head back for another leisurely kiss.
Dageus grinned and shook his head, turning to greet his father. He paused, noticing Silvan’s arm about Nell’s waist.
Drustan noticed at the same time. His eyes widened and he glanced at Gwen.
She shrugged, smiling. “I don’t know what happened, but ever since you left, they’ve been acting different. It seems they finally admitted their feelings to each other.”
Dageus tossed his head back and gave a whoop of joy. He grabbed Nell and kissed her soundly on the mouth. Nell flushed, looking immensely relieved, and Gwen realized she must have been nervous about how Drustan and Dageus might feel about her relationship with their father.
“Stop that,” Silvan growled. “Kiss her cheek if you wish, but doona be kissing those lips. They’re mine.”
Nell’s laughter was joyous, and she and Gwen exchanged a purely feminine smile. Possessiveness in tiny doses could be delicious.
Dageus grinned. “So, our dolt of a da has finally opened his eyes.”
Silvan looked sheepish.
Dageus plucked Nell up and twirled her around in dizzying circles. “ ‘Tis long past time you took your seat at our table, Nell.”
“I take it this means you approve,” Silvan said dryly.
“Oh, aye, we approve,” Dageus and Drustan said simultaneously.
When Dageus deposited Nell near Silvan, only Gwen noticed the faint hint of sadness in Dageus’s eyes, buried deep behind the golden glitter. She might not have noticed it at all had she not experienced it herself.
It was loneliness.
Where would Dageus MacKeltar, brother to a man who’d been jilted four times—
“You did break the betrothal, didn’t you?” She tipped her head back at Drustan, narrowing her eyes.
“Aye, seems Anya didn’t care for me calling down a storm during battle,” he said, grinning.
—Druid extraordinaire, gorgeous beyond words, find a woman to wed him in all of Alba?
And Dageus knew it, although Drustan hadn’t realized it yet.
“Did he make his eyes glow and everything?” she teased, eyeing Dageus thoughtfully.
“It was most impressive,” Dageus informed her. “You should have seen him raise his arms to the sky and make quite a performance of it, when in truth it doesn’t require much effort—an arrow with the right elements shot into a certain cloud formation.”
“Oh, you must tell me,” Gwen breathed.
They both laughed, tossing similar manes of silky dark hair.
“I didn’t call down a storm. I told her that if she broke our betrothal, she could retain the bride-price to use as a future dowry.” He grimaced. “It seems she didn’t wish to wed me anyway, she’d been pining for another. She said her da gave her no choice, as they had need of coin.”
Oh, Drustan, Gwen thought. Doomed never to be appreciated by the women in his century. And Dageus! There were going to be some serious matchmaking efforts in her future. Where on earth would she find him a wife? she wondered.
Then she wondered no more, for Drustan turned with her in his arms and loped up the stairs into the castle. To make immediate, passionate love to her, she was quite certain, and her entire body quickened with anticipation.
“Wait!” Silvan called after them. “I thought we could dine together as a family.”
“Give over, Da. I doubt they’ll be leaving the bedchamber till morn,” Dageus said dryly.
Silvan sighed, then glanced at Nell. His gaze grew heated.
When Silvan took Nell’s hand and hastened her toward the stairs, bidding a good night over his shoulder to his son, Dageus shook his head, smiling faintly, and withdrew a flask of whisky from his sporran.
Dageus sat on the steps for a long time, filled with a strange restlessness that even whisky couldn’t mellow, watching the night sky twinkle with a smattering of brilliant stars.