Some Like It Scot by Donna Kauffman Page B

island.”
    â€œBut that would have bought you time, either way.”
    â€œAye.”
    â€œAnd then this guy shows up. Do you know what he wants with the island?”
    â€œNone, other than he has no qualms over fulfilling the requirements.”
    â€œSurely, if your island is so small and closeknit, no one would agree to marry—”
    â€œThere are far more MacLeod lasses on Kinloch, than McAuleys of the same sex and age. Luck of birth. Our Mr. Iain McAuley, most recently of Edinburgh, appears quite able to offer a life far different than our humble island home provides, to the lucky lass whose eye he catches. So nay, I canno’ trust that they’ll no’ agree to his proposition.”
    â€œIf you could get them to repeal the law before he finds someone to marry him, would that solve the problem?”
    â€œLikely, aye, but as I said, ’tis a gamble, and no’ one I’m certain it would be wise to take. Just like our culture still embraces the Gaelic language of our ancestors, along with many of the traditions and methods, I’ve been made to realize, despite the challenges that face us as an island dwelling clan, as a whole, we’re no’ so progressive as all that. It matters no’ to them if Iain beats me to the altar. He’ll be the clan laird in name and deed, and, saddened or no’, they’ll honor that.” He lifted his gaze to find hers on him. He found her remarkably easy to be candid with. In fact, he couldn’t recall a time when he had been such a chatty fellow. “I suppose that is the final irony.”
    â€œWhat is?”
    â€œI do take the vows of marriage quite seriously. I didn’t want the law repealed because I didn’t believe in the union, or what the true strength of such a bond could provide, both for me personally, and for the clan, on numerous levels. I just wanted the freedom to—”
    â€œChoose your own mate, on your own schedule, your own way,” she finished, then sighed. “I understand. Fully.”
    â€œAye,” he said, quietly. “I imagine you do.”
    Silence fell again, only this time it was easier. When she reached out and covered his hand with hers, he couldn’t help but think that the irony was still not complete. Her hand in his. As it would be, in marriage. How the both of them, only wanting that true bond of love and marriage…and look where they sat. He became quite specifically aware of how her skin felt beneath his fingers as he turned his hand and slid his through hers. Odd, he thought, how such slender fingers, almost fragile in appearance, belonged to a woman with such grit and determination.
    He wondered if she knew, given how long it had taken her to speak up for herself, and her childhood mate, how strong she truly was. But he’d heard it, in her tone. Seen it, in her eyes, the set of her jaw. She might have taken awhile to leave the cocoon, but he was witnessing the birth of the butterfly, right in front of his eyes.
    How on earth was he going to keep her from wanting to fly away? Could his heart and moral conscience stop her from seeking her freedom, if she did?

Chapter 5
    â€œW e’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” Katie said, meaning to sound wry, but sounding rather wistful, instead.
    Her gaze shifted to their joined hands, but she didn’t pull hers away, though she knew it was well past time to start squaring her shoulders, and distancing herself from him, physically and emotionally, in preparation for what came next. But now that they’d talked, that he’d shared some of himself, of what was going on with him and what he faced when he returned, it was harder to separate and compartmentalize her emotions like she knew she had to. Perhaps, like her, he was finding the contact between them grounding in some way. Telling herself that she was only keeping her hand in his in order to soothe him was a lie even she couldn’t