Curses. Emma lay tucked up in her warm bed being fussed over by Serena, and Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Wilson.

Mrs. Wilson was in tears thanking her for saving her grandson. Apparently, all the staff now considered her a Scot, which she knew was a very big honor for an English lass.

She was simply glad everyone was safe, even Sooty the dog. And now that she was warm once more, thanks to a hot bath, a roaring fire in the grate, and a wee glass or two of whisky, what she wanted was to find Dougray and stop him from rebuilding the wall around his heart. He must have been beside himself at her narrow escape.

She’d seen Dougray’s face as he’d carried her home. She might have had a chance of convincing him to open his heart before that, but now?

Francesca had drowned.

Of all the things she could have done, almost being swept away in the river was most likely to send Dougray fleeing.

She must have been exhausted from her efforts in the water—or was it the whisky—because she fell asleep. It was dark when she awoke but the fire was still burning bright and the clock above the fireplace said a quarter to midnight.

What had woken her?

That’s when she heard it. A banging and crashing, and loud voices coming from Dougray’s bedchamber.

Was it too late to confront Dougray and to tell him how sad it was that he could not let himself love again?

Emma threw back the covers and reached for her robe. Best she tackle his fears before Dougray slept on the situation.

She tipped-toed through the connecting dressing room and peered round his door. Dickens was just leaving his lordship’s room carrying his Hessians. She waited for Dickens to close the door and then she made her way to Dougray’s beside.

He lay on his stomach, his head turned toward her and his eyes closed, and he was softly snoring. He looked naked, but the sheet and blanket covered him to the middle of his back. He looked younger in his sleep but still handsome, as handsome as he was the day she first saw him ten years ago.

She reached out and traced his eyebrow with her finger. Her heart melted. A part of her wanted to let him sleep, while the woman in her wanted to slip under the covers and mold herself to every inch of his gloriously hard body.

Just then one of his eyes opened, and a sexy smile broke on his lips.

“I must be dreaming.”

She bent and kissed his cheek. “Does that feel as if I’m a dream?”

Before she could pull back a muscled arm snaked out and pulled her down onto the bed.

“Oh, what do you think you’re doing?” she managed to say, as she became tangled in his sheets and arms.

“I’m claiming what is mine.”

That’s when she smelt the whisky. “You’re in your cups.” She tried to wiggle away but his arm pinned her to his side. “I bet in the morning you’ll not remember this, and when you do, you’ll run like a frightened little boy.”

He merely rolled her under him, and nuzzled her neck, pressing little kisses up to her ear.

She tried to push him off her. “Do you even know it’s me?”

“Aye, I know who’s in in my bed. You’re my bonnie English lass.”

He began running his hand up the inside of her leg and for a minute she forgot why she was here.

“Dougray. Stop that. I don’t want to be your convenient lover. I want more from you. And I want you to understand that your heart is big enough to love again.”

His hand gathered the edge of her night rail and robe and carried it with him as his fingers roamed up over her hip, making her muscles contract. Already her breathing hitched. Just the feel of his naked body sent desire flaming over every inch of her skin, but she had to make him see.

She continued. “I know about Fiona. I know you have a plan to enter into a marriage of convenience, and I think that’s taking the cowards way out.” He pushed her arms up above her head, and the night rail up, too, baring her breasts. Before she could protest, not that she wanted to protest at all, his lips latched onto a nipple and all thoughts fled.

As his lips drove her passions higher, she hardly noticed that Dougray had discarded her robe and pulled her night rail off over her head.

This wasn’t how she planned this conversation to go—what conversation! But it was difficult to complain with his hot, wet mouth working its magic. She lay back, closed her eyes, and gave into his sensual ministrations. His hand moved between her legs and found her wet and ready for him, and she eagerly parted her thighs to let him fit between them.

His clever fingers drove her wild and her legs automatically rose to his hips before she remembered. She had everything to lose if she didn’t reach him. If she didn’t convince him to open his heart to her.

She gathered her trembling will and sank her hands deep into his hair and tugged his head off her breasts. “Please, Dougray, please wait.”

He stilled between her thighs and rested his chin on her chest, his glorious eyes flashing his need.

“What is it, my bonnie lass?”

She swallowed hard and cupped his cheek in her hand. “Life is short—can be short, and hard, and unfair,” she stumbled. “But the one thing that makes it bearable is love. I came to Linnhe Lodge because I knew it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”

“Oh, sweeting—”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “Please let me finish.” He nodded and she removed her finger. “If you try to protect yourself from love you’ll miss out on everything that makes life wonderful.” She pressed a kiss to her lips. “A kiss.” She ran her hand through his hair. “A simple touch. The sound of a laugh, a cry, someone you miss when they leave the room.” A tear formed in her eye. “You’ve given me memories that I will cherish all my life, please don’t shut yourself off from creating more memoires just because Francesca died. Open your heart and learn to love again. It doesn’t have to be me you fall in love with—I wish it were, but promise me you will be the brave warrior I know you are and make your life wonderful again.”

Her chest was heaving with emotion as she waited for his reply.

Tears appeared at the edges of his eyes. “How did I ever get so lucky to have such a beautiful, brave, and extraordinary woman fall in love with me.”

She gave him a small smile.

He leaned forward and kissed her. His lips were gentle, possessive and she could almost taste the love.

He pulled back, rolled to his side, gathering her in his arms. “Everything you said was right. But it wasn’t that I was scared to love again. Well, maybe a little, if I’m honest. It was that I was too filled with guilt. My marriage to Francesca was a mistake in so many ways. I did love her, but I realized I wasn’t in love with her. And then she drowned and I blamed myself for taking her away for her home, her country, and her family. She deserved better.”

“Did she love you?”

“I think so. Everyone—my mother, Angus—told me she was happy.”

“Then you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

He hugged her tightly. “I thought that I wasn’t worthy of love when I’d made such a hash of it the first time.”

“Who is Fiona?”

He sighed and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Fiona Mackenzie is the daughter of my neighbor who was my father’s oldest friend. Oldest and most penniless friend.”

“So you were trying to please your father. He wanted the match?”

“Not particularly. On his deathbed my father made me promise I’d help Ian Mackenzie financially. The stubborn bugger won’t accept ‘charity,’ but I think that’s because he wants me to offer for Fiona.”

She didn’t know what to say. She knew Dougray loved his father. “I’m a problem then?”

He rolled her so they were facing each other. He traced her lips with his thumb. “You are, and never were, a problem. You are my salvation if anything. You have given me the courage to love again by pointing out what a coward I’ve been. I love you, my bonnie lass. I think I fell in love with you the minute you stepped out of the carriage and smiled at me.”

Her heart swelled and she boldly kissed him, showing him how much she loved him. When they finally parted, both panting, she asked, “What are you going to do about Fiona?”

This time she didn’t try to stop him as his hands roamed over her body, and when he pulled her on top of him she loved the feel of his erection against her stomach.

“The lass you saw Angus with in the summer house was Fiona.”

As she began to laugh he lifted her and her laugh turned to a gasp as he slid her onto him. He sat up to cup her cheek.

“Tha thu mo bheatha aisling,” he whispered. “You are my life’s dream. Will you marry me?”

She could feel him pulsing deep inside her, where he was always meant to be, and he already owned her heart. “Of course.”

He kissed her breasts, suckling one nipple deep into his mouth before pulling back to ask, “How do you feel about joining your brother, Serena, Angus and Fiona, at Gretna Green as soon as the roads clear?”

She began to slowly ride him and was thrilled when his hands gripped her hips tighter, and he closed his eyes on a moan.

“I think this is going to be the most wonderful Christmas ever. You’re giving me your heart, something I want more than anything in the world. I get my Scot. A Scot for Christmas.”

He began to move her a bit faster as his breathing grew uneven. “How about I try to give us another present. A wee barn?”

“Now you’re spoiling me, and I love it—love you.”

When he took her lips once more in a kiss full of love, she sighed and thanked the lord she’d found the courage to love the Earl of Lorne.