Page 23 of Laird of Sighs (His Highland Heart #5)

EPILOGUE

MIDWINTER, 1413

“’ T is a bonnie lass, like her mother!” Stellan exclaimed from the top of the stairs above the great hall as he held up his new daughter. Swaddled in soft linen and a Sutherland plaid, she was meant for the clan to see, but Anders was disappointed.

“The healer has overdone the wrappings,” he leaned over to Ailsa and told her under the din of shouts and cheers for the heir’s second bairn. “I canna see the wean. Can ye?”

“Nay, and up there, where the heat rises from the hearth, ’tis warm enough no’ to need so much. Then again, the world must be a cold place to a newborn, aye?”

“I suppose so.” Anders shrugged and hoisted his cup of ale, a salute to his brother. “Should we go up?”

“Aye! I want to see how Mariota is.”

“Stellan wouldna be out here if she had any problems,” he assured her.

“’Tis no’ the point. She needs to ken family is nearby, and I want to see my new niece.”

Anders grinned and set his cup aside. “Ah, the truth comes out. Lasses and bairns.” He stood and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

Ailsa leapt to her feet and allowed him to open a path through the crowd in the great hall. News of Mariota’s labor had drawn in most of the clan once the sun went down, both for supper and to await the new Sutherland.

At the top of the stairs, Stellan stood speaking to one of the healer’s helpers who was trying to take his daughter from his arms. “Lady Sutherland is demanding ye bring back her daughter, Stellan. She must be fed.”

“Ach, let me hold her,” Ailsa demanded of Stellan, then winked at the helper.

Stellan proffered his daughter. “I ken what ye are doing, Ailsa Sinclair Sutherland. But go ahead. Take her to her mother and ye lasses can have a fine blether for as long as Mariota can keep her eyes open. The healer is still with her.”

“A moment, Wife,” Anders said, stopping her. “I wanted to see my niece, too, remember?” Ailsa suffered Anders’ touching the wean long enough to pull the plaid from around her face and get a look at her. Her eyes were open and blue, her lips plump and rosy pink. If she had any hair, he couldn’t see it for the swaddling over her head.

“She’s a beauty, Brother,” he said, nodding for Ailsa to take her to Mariota. “Do ye have a name for her yet?”

“Nay. We both like Elana, and we’ve thought of a few others, but we’ll wait a wee and see what suits her personality.”

“Stoic like ye and stubborn like her mother would be my guess.” Anders grinned.

Stellan snorted. “Or the opposite of both. Beathan isna an exact match to either of us, so no doubt his sister will be her own person, too.”

“Of course she will. I’m glad she has an older brother. If she takes after the two of ye in looks, ye’ll have to beat the suitors off with a stick, and ye’ll need his help.”

Stellan held up a hand. “That’s years away.”

“’Twill go faster than ye think.”

“And ye ken this how?”

Stellan’s incredulity led Anders to be truthful. “We’re trying for our own, but it has only been a few months since our wedding. Beathan didna come right away. I doubt ours will, either.”

“Enjoy the time ye have before the bairns come. Afterward, ye’ll have little time to yerselves.”

“So, I’ve heard,” Anders said drily. Stellan had complained about that very thing many times since his son and heir had arrived. But, they had found the time and privacy to make Elana, or whatever her name would be.

Ailsa appeared without the new bairn. “Mariota wants to see us. Both of ye,” she told them.

Anders exchanged a glance with his twin.

“Very well,” Stellan said.

They followed her into the chamber. Mariota sat up, a mound of pillows at her back, as she nursed her new daughter, a sheet over the bairn covering them both to Mariota’s shoulders.

“Our daughter needs guardians,” Mariota announced.

Anders knew what that meant. He was already named guardian for Beathan, so that if anything happened to Stellan, Anders would be responsible to see the lad raised to become the next Sutherland laird once both twins were gone. But for a lass?

“I see what ye are thinking, Anders,” Mariota said, then yawned. “I want to say this before I fall asleep. I want Ailsa to be my daughter’s guardian.”

Anders smiled at his bride. “Are ye willing, Ailsa? To help raise her as yer own should something befall her mother, or God forbid, both her parents?”

“’Tis a great responsibility, but one I will bear gladly, Mariota. Yer daughter will be safe and well cared for with me. But I hope never to have to take that joy from ye.”

“I ken it,” Mariota said, then yawned again. “I’m at my limit, I think.”

“Very well,” the healer spoke up. “All of ye, out. I’ll take charge of the wean for now. Her mother needs to rest.”

Anders had forgotten the woman was in the room, but her word was law. “We’ll go. Sleep well, Mariota. Ye gave us a wonderful gift today.”

She smiled and closed her eyes.

“Stellan, ye, too. Go. Ye can come back later.” The healer bent to take the infant from Mariota’s unprotesting arms. She was already asleep.

“Just one more look,” he said and took his daughter from the healer, where the wean, too, had dozed off. He cradled her for a moment, then reluctantly handed her back to the healer. “Call for me if there’s any need.”

“They’re both well and strong,” the healer told him. “There will be nay need. Go to yer rest.”

Stellan closed the door behind him and took a breath.

Ailsa gave him a hug. “Ye look as knackered as yer wife, Brother. The healer is right. Ye should rest, too.”

“I will, as soon as I speak to Da. He’ll have heard the cheering.” He headed down the stairs.

Anders took Ailsa’s hand. “I think we should go to our rest as well.”

“I ken that look in yer eye,” Ailsa said with a grin. “Ye want to make a bairn of yer own.”

“Ye dinna?”

“I do, Husband. I dinna care how long it takes.”

“Nor do I, Ailsa. Making love to ye makes me a happy man. Loving ye? ’Tis a joy I will never forget.”