Love Came Just In Time Part 24

"Well," she said. A man didn't buy yellow rubber gloves if he didn't plan on using them, did he? And these weren't the wimpy kind that supermarkets sold; these were heavy-duty, dabble-in-toxic-waste-and-not-ruin-your-fingernail-polish kind of gloves. These were gloves meant for more than just a handful of dips into sudsy water. Did he plan on doing dishes for more than just the weekend?

"And this is a cookbook," Gideon said, relieving her of the gloves and handing her a heavy package instead. "I perused the index already and I think there are several things we could actually succeed in making. I was somewhat alarmed by the quant.i.ty of raw ingredients required, but I decided that together we might have a go at it. What do you think?"

"Ah," Megan said, stunned, "um, well." She unwrapped in a daze. Based on their previous forays into the kitchen, the gift of a cookbook was not something to be taken lightly. Especially one that required them to make things from scratch. "It sounds pretty time-consuming," she said. "Not exactly a single weekend project."

"I know," he said, smiling widely. "It will be brilliant fun, don't you think? All that time together in the kitchen, bonding over bouillabaisse?"

Megan clutched the cookbook, looked at her errant business mogul and wondered if one too many equipment disasters had finally forced him to relinquish his tenuous grasp on sanity.

"Gideon," she said slowly, wanting to make sure he understood each word, "when in the world are you going to have time for all of this?"

"I'll make time."

"You can't. You're the president of an international company."

"I'll manage it."

"You hobn.o.b with billionaires!"

"I know."

Megan gritted her teeth. He was wearing a cheesy grin, and that annoying twinkle was still stuck in his eyes.

"You don't have time to cook," Megan said. "That's why you have a chef."

"We'll send him on holiday."

It was time for the killing blow. He would have to admit his true intentions sooner or later, and this was guaranteed to force him to face reality.

"You wouldn't last a week up here," she said. "You can't live without your laptop."

Gideon calmly took her face in his hands, leaned up and kissed her softly.

"Yes, I can," he said, his smile sweet and gentle. "I realized when I left that what I was heading toward was far less important than what I'd left behind."

It started to sink in. He was serious. Megan felt her eyes begin to water.

"I can live without the company, Megan, but I can't live without you."

He proceeded to hand her the little box she'd been so carefully avoiding. Megan clutched it. She didn't dare open it. "A new marble for my collection?" she asked, trying to smile.

Gideon only laughed. "Hardly."

Megan looked at him and saw nothing but love in his eyes and tenderness in his expression. He covered her hand with his own comfortable, companionable hand and gave her a rea.s.suring squeeze. "Open it, please," he said softly. "Quickly, so I'll know if I've just made a great fool of myself." Megan opened the box to reveal a slim gold band. At least she thought it was a slim gold band. She could hardly see it for her tears. "Oh, Gideon." "It's just a placeholder," he said. "Thorpewold isn't exactly a buzzing metropolis." "No, it's beautiful." He ducked to catch her gaze. "I can't guarantee I'll be perfect," he admitted, "but you've seen quite a bit of me at my worst. I'll still have to work, but I'll work less. Much less." He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face up. "I know you won't marry me for my money or my t.i.tle, and that will confuse my father greatly, but," he said, with a smile, "will you marry me for my time? I'll make it worth your while."

"Somehow, I imagine you will," she said, returning his smile. "And yes," she added, "I will marry you."

And then she learned just how much time he planned on lavishing on her as he took many, many minutes to kiss her breathless. "If we could get out of this d.a.m.ned chair," he said, when he came up for air a very long while later, "we could adjourn to another room and see how much more time we could spend at this. I mean, after all, we're engaged now, and there really isn't any reason..." "Why, there'll be none of that!" Hugh gasped. He appeared behind the chair and looked down at Gideon with marked disapproval. "Imagine that! The thought of visitin' me wee one's marriage bed 'afore the ceremony!"

Gideon blinked. "What did you say?"

Megan shook her head. "I didn't say anything."

Gideon scratched his head, then shrugged. "Well, what do you think-ouch, d.a.m.n it!"

Hugh had given Gideon what Megan could only term a thorough boxing of the ears.

Gideon looked down at her hands that were captured handily enough in his own, then raised his gaze to

hers slowly.

"You didn't do that," he stated.

"'Fraid not."

He lifted one eyebrow. "I don't suppose you would know who had, would you?"

"I suppose I would."

Gideon shivered. "All right," he said, to the middle of the room. "I take the hint."

Hugh harrumphed and disappeared. Gideon looked at her and laughed uneasily.

"I don't suppose we'll have any privacy on our wedding night either."

"I think they know where to draw the line." Or so she hoped.

"Will I pa.s.s muster if I limit myself to kissing you? After all, it is Christmas Eve. I think it's tradition."

"And we wouldn't want to break with tradition," she said, the moment before she found much more

interesting things to do with her lips besides form words.

And between kisses, Gideon briefly described the makings for Christmas dinner he'd found. He polled

her opinions on what other holiday traditions she thought they could indulge in to distract themselves until they could arrange a wedding.

"Yule log," he offered, then kissed her thoroughly.

"Bing Crosby on the stereo," she managed when he let her breathe again. "Counts as Christmas

caroling." "Wa.s.sail and other trappings," he said, winding his fingers through her hair. "It's a Wonderful Life," she suggested. He smiled. "It certainly is." Megan started to tell him that he didn't understand what she meant. Then she saw the look in his eye and realized he understood completely.

And it certainly was.

It was very late when the fire had burned down and Megan woke, only to realize she'd fallen asleep in Gideon's arms. He was sound asleep, still fully trapped in the chair's embrace. Megan blinked as she saw Fulbert come up behind the chair. He gave her a scowl that wasn't as scowly as his former expressions, then plopped a red bow on top of Gideon's head. He huffed something under his breath, then turned and went to join Hugh and Ambrose who were standing next to the fireplace. Hugh was beaming. Ambrose looked perfectly satisfied with his work.

"Stocking stuffer," Ambrose clarified.

"Thank you," Megan said, with a smile.

"Hmmm?" Gideon said, stirring.

Megan kissed him softly. "Nothing. Go back to sleep."

Once he had drifted off again, Megan looked at the small collection of gifts on the floor next to the fallen tree, gifts that represented the time Gideon intended to commit to their relationship. The last glowing embers from the fire sparkled against the thin gold band on her hand, a symbol of love found in the most unexpected of places.

Then she looked at Gideon and decided that he was by far the best Christmas gift of all--even if he was too big to fit into her stocking.

She tucked her head into the crook of his neck and closed her eyes, content.

Epilogue.

Ambrose MacLeod, grandfather several generations removed, escorted his granddaughter down the aisle. Her sire walked on the other side, preoccupied with not tripping over his daughter's flowing medieval gown.

"Good grief, Megan, where did you come up with all this medieval hoopla?" her father muttered.

"Oh, Dad," Megan said, with a little laugh, "the inn just seems to inspire it."

Ambrose looked down at her and felt pride stir in his breast. Of all the places he could have been, this was the best. Of all the posterity he could have matchmade for, this la.s.s was the sweetest. She looked up at him and smiled brilliantly. Ambrose returned the smile proudly.

He turned his gaze to the front of the chapel. Gideon stood there already, resplendent in his medieval finery. Fulbert stood to one side, his hand on his sword, Artane pride etched into his very bearing. Fulbert had made his peace completely with Megan over the past month, once he'd realized she actually increased Gideon's capacity for proper labor. The office Gideon had installed in the inn had satisfied them both. Ambrose knew he would miss Megan when she and her love made for London, but Gideon had given his word they wouldn't stay overlong. Of course, Gideon had been looking in the wrong direction when he'd said as much, but Ambrose had accepted the gesture just the same. The lad's vision would clear up soon enough.

Hugh stood next to Megan's sisters Jennifer and Victoria, clutching a beribboned nosegay of conservatory flowers. Megan smiled fondly at him. Hugh pulled a snowy linen cloth from his sleeve and blew his nose into it with a honk.

Gideon jumped half a foot and whipped his head around to stare straight at Hugh.

Then he seemingly caught sight of Fulbert's blade and jerked around to stare at him.

"Uh oh," Megan said, looking up at Ambrose. "The jig's up."

Ambrose felt Gideon's eyes on him and he returned the lad's startled look.

"Come on, Dad. Gideon's going to faint if we don't hurry up."

Ambrose stood back and let her hasten to her blanched groom's side. It was rather touch-and-go until Fulbert barked for the lad to stand up straight. At that, the boy stiffened as if he'd been skewered up the spine.

Ambrose didn't relax truly until the vows had been spoken, the rings exchanged and the kiss given. Then he sat down wearily next to Megan's father and his own kinswoman. "Where does she come up with these things?" the man asked, shaking his head. "All this medieval hocus pocus. Look at me, Helen, I'm in a kilt!"

"Yes, dear."

"It's that d.a.m.n MacLeod blood, Helen."

"Of course it is, dear. It's a family trait."

Ambrose smiled at his daughter, many times removed, then blinked in surprise as she looked straight at

him and winked.

"Well, I'll be d.a.m.ned," he whispered.

It was several hours later that Megan and Gideon were sent off on their honeymoon, the guests were all put to bed and Ambrose could finally relax in the kitchen. Even Hugh and Fulbert seemed at peace. They were only hurling mild insults at each other. No blades were bared.

"I say we turn our sights to those two sisters of hers," Hugh said, clutching his cup. "I'm thinkin' they'll be a far sight easier to see settled." Fulbert snorted. "Didn't you mark that Victoria? By the saints, Hugh, she's a bleedin' garrison captain!" He shivered. "I wouldn't cross her if me life depended on it."

"Ambrose?" Hugh prodded. "What think ye?"

"I'm leaving it up to you two for a bit," Ambrose said, rising and stretching.

Hugh and Fulbert gaped at him.

"Where're ye off to?" Hugh asked.

Ambrose stared off into the distance thoughtfully. "The Highlands, I believe."

"But ye can't," Hugh gasped.

"We've more matches to make," Fulbert spluttered.

Ambrose smiled fondly at his two compatriots. "They'll keep well enough until I return."

"But-"

"How can you-"