Page 17

T he evening fire crackled softly in their chamber as Lileas sat curled against Ewan's side, both of them finally able to breathe easily after the events of the past few days.

The terror of her kidnapping and the relief of her safe return had left them both clinging closer than usual, reluctant to let each other out of arm's reach.

"I like him, Ewan," Lileas said quietly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "And I dinnae envy him the task he has ahead."

Ewan snorted, though his arm tightened around her. "Is that why ye have insisted on trying to help him?"

"Aye," she replied without hesitation. "So many improvements can be made if he just had a little aid. We could forge a strong alliance, one that would benefit both our clans."

Ewan's expression darkened, and he pulled back to look at her properly. "Lil, they kidnapped ye. Took ye away from me. I spent the worst hours of my life fearing for yer safety, wondering if I'd ever see my beloved wife again."

The pain in his voice made her heart clench with guilt. She reached up to cup his face gently. "I ken that, and I'm sorry for the fear I caused ye. But it wasn't Bhaltair who ordered it. He was as furious as ye were."

Ewan was quiet for a long moment, his jaw working as he wrestled with conflicting emotions. Finally, he sighed. "I have to admit, I found him to be an intelligent, reasonable man. His uncle was a right bastard though who destroyed everything he touched."

"Ye offered to help him, didn't ye?" Lileas asked, reading the reluctant admission in his eyes.

"Aye," Ewan said grudgingly. "Though he's too proud to accept much assistance."

"He thanked me for my detailed notes I gave him about fixing things around the keep, though. Said it was more practical help than anyone had offered him in months."

"There's only one real solution to his problems," Ewan said eventually, his voice thoughtful. "He needs a wife. Specifically, a wife with a substantial dowry."

Lileas sat up straighter, her eyes brightening with interest. "A wife with a dowry... that's actually quite sensible. But who would be willing to marry him in their current state?"

Ewan was quiet for a moment, then a wicked grin spread across his face. "Well, there's always the Mad MacKay Witch."

Lileas burst into laughter. "Ewan MacNeil! Ye cannot be serious!"

"Think about it," he continued, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Legend has it she has the largest dowry in all of Scotland. Enough gold to rebuild three keeps."

"Aye, and legend also has it she turns men into toads when they displease her," Lileas replied, still giggling. "Besides, no one has ever actually seen her. The MacKay insist she’s real but her father says tis but a myth. Isn't she supposed to be older than the hills themselves?"

"Perhaps that's just what makes her so wealthy," Ewan said solemnly. "She's had centuries to gather her fortune."

"Oh, ye're terrible," Lileas replied, swatting at his chest. "Poor Bhaltair Ferguson. Can ye imagine his face if we suggested such a match?"

"He might actually prefer the toads," Ewan replied, pulling her close again.

They both dissolved into laughter at the absurd image, the tension of the past few days finally melting away completely. Whatever the future held for Clan Ferguson, it certainly wouldn't involve the Mad MacKay Witch.

"Perhaps we should look for someone else," Lileas said finally, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Aye, perhaps we should," Ewan agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "But not tonight. Tonight, I just want to hold my wife and be grateful she's safe in my arms."

"I love ye, Ewan MacNeil," she whispered against his chest.

"And I love ye, Lileas MacNeil. My stubborn, clever, generous-hearted wife."

As they settled into comfortable silence, both were content to simply exist in this moment of peace and happiness. Whatever challenges lay ahead, it could wait until tomorrow.

For now, they had each other, and that was enough.

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