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Epilogue

“ Y ou asked for a private meal so we could talk,” Lina said as the serving girls left. They’d brought their suppers, as he requested, and the table in he and his wife’s bedchamber was now laden with food.

“I did,” he said, “and have matters I’d like to discuss. But that gown. . .”

Of all the ones she wore, it was that simple cream one with gold thread along the neckline and sleeves Niall loved most. She looked like an angel come from heaven even though he knew his wife had a very devilish side too. One he wished to explore this very moment.

Pulling her toward him, Niall spun her around and began to untie her gown. He was, in fact, quite proficient at it and removed the garment in quick order. She stepped out of it.

“The meal,” he said, “will grow cold if you do not aid me. Your boots, my lady?”

Kneeling, he removed those as well. And her hose and garter. When Niall began to remove his own boots, Lina now in nothing but a shift, she offered a weak protest.

“Angus had that duck prepared especially for you, and now it will grow cold.”

In the sennight since Angus had recovered, the man had not slowed his pace as Niall and others, including Lina, begged him to do. Instead, the steward completed the job of a man many years younger.

Thankful to remain alive, he said over and over. They were thankful for the same. Now, however, Niall was also thankful that his wife, despite her protests, was pulling her shift above her head.

No sooner were they both completely nude than Niall guided his wife to the bed.

But she surprised him by stopping before they reached its edge, turning toward it.

And didn’t his wife sweep her hair to one side and bend over, placing both hands on the mattress.

The sight of her bare buttocks, Lina in such a position. . .

They’d made love this way in the bed but never quite like this. Each time, however, his wife became more and more adventurous, though he should not have been surprised.

“Lina.” His voice thick with desire, Niall reached between her legs thinking to prepare her for him, but ‘twas unnecessary. She was so wet already, he pulled his fingers from her, grabbed her hip with one hand, and guided himself into her with the other.

He had to close his eyes or risk spilling his seed too soon. “Lord in heaven, wife.”

She peered over her shoulder to look at him, the expression on her face one of pleasure mixed with merriment for Lina knew precisely what she did to him.

Buried fully in her, Niall remained there for a moment before pulling out. And then in. Reaching across her hip with his free hand, he rubbed her with his fingers, teasing and circling as she cried out his name.

He cried out hers.

Wanting it to last.

Wanting to remain inside his wife all eve. But he simply could not. The moment Lina’s legs began to shake, her cries telling him she began to release, Niall immediately did the same, pushing himself as deep within her as possible.

He held himself there for some time, pulling away reluctantly.

Turning, his wife smiled in a way that told Niall she was quite pleased with herself for forcing him to nearly lose control. He pulled her into his arms.

“Mmmm, I did enjoy that, love.”

“Did you?” she asked, looking up at him. “I was not certain.”

He made another sound deep in his throat, kissed her, and would have remained that way for some time had there not been a knock at the door.

Knowing few would disturb them with Niall specifically asking to take his meal in private, he quickly dressed, at least partially, as Lina donned her shift once more.

He opened the door, revealing none other than Angus on the other side.

“Apologies, my lord. But your mother is belowstairs asking to see you.”

“My mother?”

‘Twas exceedingly odd, not that his mother had traveled to Glenhaven but arriving so late.

“I will send Mary,” he said to Lina, following Angus from the chamber, “so that you may join us.”

When they reached the hall, the evening meal was well underway, with his own surely having grown cold abovestairs. His mother stood beside the fire, warming her hands.

He kissed her cheek in greeting. “Mother, is Father here with you?”

“He is not,” she said. “It’s he and your brother I came to speak to you about.”

Niall did not understand. “Mother?” he asked, not caring for her expression. She seemed worried, much more so than usual. “They are well?”

“Indeed,” she said, lowering her voice. “But I have a request to ask of you. And something to share you may find distressing. Though ‘tis necessary.”

Niall could not possibly be more confused. By his mother’s sudden appearance. By her behavior. By her words. “What is your request?”

“I’ve learned you spoke to your father and brother about naming Kieran as second.”

Ahh, now he understood.

“Aye,” he said. “When Father refused to accept Lina, I’d suggested to Kieran I would be glad for him to be chief and I would serve him.”

“You must not continue to suggest it.”

Niall thought back to when he and Lina had last visited Castle Duncraig. “I may have reiterated my words once, to ensure Father knew I would, indeed, follow Kieran if ever such a thing were necessary.”

“You are the chief’s second, son.”

His mother had never favored one of her sons before, and Niall thought it odd she would do so now.

“What is this, Mother? You come here and so late? To tell me not to encourage something that ‘tis likely not to happen? Why?” And then he remembered. “You said you must tell me something that would be distressing?”

“What I will tell you is not something you can ever speak aloud to your father or brother.” Though none could hear their conversation, despite that the hall was filled, his mother lowered her voice even more.

“I would not have you keep it from your wife, but if she were to share the information with her brother…” His mother sighed.

“I say this only because I know no other way than to ensure you do not press Kieran’s suit as second. ”

“There is no suit,” he reassured her again. “But aye, you’ve my confidence in anything you wish to tell me.”

“Kieran,” she said, and then stopped, looking around as if he would suddenly appear. “We took Kieran into our family when he’d not quite seen ten summers.”

“All know this, Mother. But I do not believe any in our clan see Kieran as anything but your full son or as my full brother.”

“Perhaps,” she replied. “And some do know he came to be with us on the day after the Battle of The Black Friars.”

That startled him. ‘Twas something he did not know.

“Indeed?”

“Indeed,” she said, still appearing worried. “But none, including your father or brother, who has long forgotten, know the precise circumstances.”

“But why should it matter?” he asked, spotting Lina in the distance. His wife glided toward them.

“Because,” she said. “Kieran could never be the chief of Clan Duncraig.”

“Why?” he pressed. Clearly, the information his mother came to share was not any she comfortably wished to convey.

“Because your brother, Kieran, is a MacKinlay.”