“And you are not her brother?” Mrs. Bloom asked.
Ravenscroft reddened. “No.” He stiffened. “I’m her—”
“Time’s up.” Gregor scooped Venetia into his arms.
She opened her mouth to protest but then met his gaze. A slow, warm smile curved her lips, and she sighed happily.
The feel of her in his arms was too, too tempting. Gregor cleared his throat and said, “If you will all excuse us, I refuse to wait another moment. I must propose to this woman.”
“Again,” Venetia pointed out.
“But this time, I shall do it right.”
Venetia’s eyes gleamed with passion.
“Excellent!” Viola clapped her hands. “Oh, I just knew this would happen one day!” She looked at the squire and said in a confidential voice, “They’ve been friends forever, you know. Such a good match.”
The squire smiled reluctantly. “So long as they are getting married. I suppose he does need some privacy to make a good proposal. Difficult thing to do in front of an audience.”
Ravenscroft hurried forward. “Over my dead bod—”
Grandmama neatly hooked his leg with her cane, and Ravenscroft went flying to the floor.
He struggled to rise, but Viola was quicker. She rushed to his side.
“My hand,” he groaned.
She stooped so her skirts covered where her slipper was firmly planted on his hand and looked at Gregor. “The sitting room is available. It’s right there.” She pointed.
“Perfect.” Holding Venetia closer, he glanced at his brother. “Dougal, would you mind opening the door?”
“Of course.”
Beside him, Alexander growled, “Gregor, I don’t approve of any of this.” He looked at the assembled company with disapproval. “It’s very messy and chaotic.”
Gregor shrugged. “It’s a good thing, then, that it’s not your life but mine.” He looked into Venetia’s face and grinned. “Personally, I am discovering that a little chaos can be a good thing.”
Hugh chuckled and said to Alexander, “I fear you’ve been dismissed, brother. Come, let’s find some port and let the happy couple have their moment.”
Dougal threw open the door. “I shall stand guard.” He waited for them to walk through, and closed it firmly behind them.
As the door shut, Gregor heard Dougal say, “Mrs. Oglivie, I hate to be a demanding guest, but is there any port in this house? All of this has made me quite thirsty.”
“Of course,” Viola said. “Perhaps we should all remove to the dining room. Mother, do you think we might serve some refreshments to our guests?”
The dowager’s answer was lost in the murmur of voices that arose as the guests moved away.
Against Gregor’s shoulder, Venetia giggled. “I am going to like being related to your brothers.”
“And I gain your mother and grandmother, both of whom I now find perfectly delightful.” He set her on her feet but held her close, cupping her intimately against him as he kissed her.
When they were both breathless, he raised his head, then rubbed his thumb over her full bottom lip. Eyes bright, he dropped to one knee, her hand held between his. “Venetia, I love you. I want to marry you. Will you have me?”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I love you, too.”
Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how closely he’d been guarding his heart. At her words, happiness, raw and pure, exploded through him, and he stood and swooped her back into his arms, swinging her around and around.
Life with Venetia would never be simple; there would be many messes to untangle. But with her at his side, it would all be worthwhile. After kissing her once more, he set her back on her feet.
She kept her arms around his neck. “I think we should celebrate properly upstairs.”
He laughed softly and lifted her again. “Anything you want, dear heart. Anything you want.”
Karen Hawkins, To Scotland, With Love
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