Beautiful in My Eyes (15 page)

“It's good to see you, too. And thanks.”

“You're welcome. And t
ell Julian to be prepared for the rush of mothers coming in tomorrow for his repeat performance at story time. They've all been going on about the gorgeous kilt-wearing Scotsman.”

I laugh. “I'll be sure to tell him.”

When I finally exit the store and meet Julian, I gasp, covering my mouth.

“Julian! What did you do?”

“Do ye like ma haircut,
darlin
'?” He stands and runs his fingers through the short tousled waves.

“I can't believe . . . but why?”

He smiles and places the tied ponytail in my hand. My bag slips from my fingers unheeded, and tears quickly blur my vision as he takes me in his arms.

“I
didnae
mean ta make ye cry,
mon
nighean
donn
.”

I say
nothing,
just simply bury my face in his chest. I know why he did it, and the gesture touches me more than anything he has ever done. How I love this man! And how blessed I am that he loves me so much!

“Thank you,” I finally whisper.

Drawing back a little, he takes my face in his hands, whispering against my lips, “I love ye more than
anythin
', ma bonnie, bonnie lassie,” before covering my mouth and drinking deeply. Clinging to one another, we are completely in a world of our own.
A world where love, passion and complete adoration consumes our hearts and our souls.
A world nothing can penetrate, and our devotion to one another is all that matters.

Dad whistles as we enter the house. “You're beautiful as usual.”

“Tell me
aboot
it,” Julian says, placing the bags on the sofa.

“And Julian, you look like a new man.”

Julian smiles, lifting my hand to his lips. “No new, just different. I'm the same man, the one who desperately loves
yer
daughter.”

I wrap my arms around his waist, gazing up at him with eyes full of love and adoration, secure in the knowledge that no matter what trials may come, no matter how hard emotional storms may rage, I will be able to face them all and overcome, with Julian, my husband and Scottish knight, at my side.

Epilogue

Beauty is how you feel inside, and it reflects in your eyes. It is not something physical.

Sophia Loren

T
he wedding is held in the back yard of our home. I wipe a tear away as Dad and Cassie stand before the reverend and repeat their vows, pledging to love and honor one another. Cassie is a beautiful bride in her silky white princess gown. And Dad's black tux looks like it was made just for him. He is indeed a handsome groom. In attendance are my grandparents and some of Dad's friends and employees.

Julian and I share meaningful glances throughout the ceremony, remembering our wedding ceremonies, both in the states and in Scotland. No words are needed as our eyes clearly speak our love to one another.

Two hours later, after hugs, kisses, and more tears are shed, Julian and I stand at the curb and wave as we watch Dad and Cassie drive away, heading toward their new life.

Six weeks later

Castle Urquhart

Loch Ness, Scotland

Standing in the tower of the castle ruins, with Julian's arms around my waist, we gaze through the window at Loch Ness. Even shrouded in
the thick
fog, this place feel
s
magical. Battles were fought over Castle Urquhart, but in the end, Scotland regained her treasure, and I am awed to again be standing amidst such history.

“The first time I brought ye here, I thought ta
masel
', 'I wan' ta marry this woman right here, right now.' But I
couldnae
deprive ye o a
weddin
'.”

I smile, turning in his arms. “And I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Though, if truth
be  told
, I would have married you with only the reverend and nature as witnesses. I wanted you as desperately as you wanted me.” I softly touch my lips to his. “I still do.”

“Aye.” His voice is husky. “My wan' for ye
willnae
ever stop. When I am in ma grave, I will still burn for ye.” He kisses me, whispering against my lips. “Ye
hav
' no idea o the power ye
hav
' over me.”

A delightful shiver causes
goosebumps
to cover my arms as his hands caress my waist and back. “I have some idea, because I feel the same. From the moment you first looked into my eyes when you sang, I have felt a connection to you that only grows stronger and deeper with each day that passes. There are times that I still wonder how you can be mine, and what I did to deserve you.”

“Ah,
darlin
', ye take ma own thoughts an' give voice ta them.” He holds me close, caressing my brow with his lips. “Ye
donnae
ken, an' I've never said, but almost every night since we married, I awaken for a wee moment an' just look at ye. I look at
yer
beloved body
an'
marvel
tha
' ye belong ta me,
tha
' we are one flesh. I gaze at
yer
face,
committin
' ta memory every plane, every contour,
thankin
' God for the marvels o the human senses. An' then I touch ye, an' I am infused with renewed joy.”

Julian has always been a romantic, but his words take me by complete surprise. His devotion is so
beautiful,
I can't come up with anything original that would be worthy of him. I turn back around and face the sea, my arms wrapped over his. One of my favorite poetic pieces by Pierre
Choderlos
De
Laclos
comes to mind.

“
Loved and respected by a husband I love and respect, my duties and my pleasures are combined. I am happy and I
ought to be. If there exist more acute pleasures I do not want to know them. Is there a sweeter pleasure than to be at peace with oneself?
. .
. What you call happiness is but a turmoil of the senses, a tempest of passions which it is frightening to witness even from the safety of the shore . . .
”

“Amen, love.”

We say nothing more for a long while, we simply soak in the view. Soon the mist over Loch Ness slowly lifts, and for a moment I think I see . . .

No, it couldn't be
. . . “Julian!” I say, never taking my eyes away from the area of water I've been staring at. “Was that . . . do you think . .
. ?
”

“In these
enchantin
' waters,
anythin's
possible.” He takes my hand. “Let's go an'
hav
' a closer look.”