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The dew was cool on Felicity’s bare feet. The grass sounded a tiny squeak every time Will spun her before him. His hand was strong and sure at her waist, the other warm and enveloping hers.

Her heart filled to watch him, to watch his smile. These days, a smile lit Will’s features more often than not. He was so handsome in the moonlight, laughing low, twirling her, lifting her.

Her Viking loved to dance.

And they danced now under the stars. Their favorite thing, stealing this time alone together. The children asleep, their only music the rustle and squeak of dewy grass and the faraway bleat of their neighbor’s sheep.

They’d chosen to stay in Scotland, in Perthshire, in a country cottage on land that rolled gently to the banks of the River Tay. Duncrub Castle was only a memory now, but they still loved to sneak away when they could, for a quick tumble along their Roman road.

Felicity loved Scotland, where never before had she felt so truly, deeply at home. At first, she’d worried what Livia would think.

But that was before she’d realized her aunt had long harbored fantasies of finding herself some brawny, gray-bearded blacksmith. And though Livvie had yet to encounter just the right candidate, she seemed to be enjoying the hunt, making her way from isle to isle in the Hebrides.

She thought she heard something. Putting her hand on Will’s shoulder, she stilled him. They locked eyes. Speaking wasn’t necessary; he’d know what she was doing.

Their youngest was just shy of a year old, and Felicity was still getting used to the fact that she no longer needed to be on call all night, through the night.

They paused, and while she listened, Will kissed her.

His mouth was warm and soft on her neck, her jaw, her ear.

“Baby Olivia sleeps yet, love,” he whispered to her.

He unbuttoned her sweater, roving his hand under her shirt.

His skin was hot on her cool breast. “But I find myself feeling very awake at present,” Will murmured, nipping at her ear.

“I’m sorry I’m so nervous.” She tangled her fingers in his hair, and it was the only invitation he needed.

“Not too nervous,” Will told her, and he reached a hand around her back. Clutching her bottom, he pulled her closer to him.

He was hard for her, and she giggled, flush with pleasure. He seemed always ready for her.

“You’re perfect with them,” he said, referring to their three sleeping kids. “The greatest mother I could imagine.”

“Your mom didn’t exactly set a stellar example.”

“No indeed,” he said with a low laugh. His kisses stilled. He pulled from her, tracing her hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. “I wonder what came of them.”

Felicity knew he referred to his parents.

Though folk like the Campbells and MacDonalds lit the pages of history books like major constellations, there was not so much about Clan Rollo.

They’d tried researching, but hadn’t been able to find much beyond dates of birth and death, and some of Will’s own exploits on the battlefield.

They’d found all kinds of stuff about Ewen Cameron, though. Some of the poems written for him had made Felicity roll her eyes. But mostly they made her smile with the memory of him. She was happy he’d lived a good, long life.

“Do you think Ewen did it?” she asked abruptly. “Went back and saved Robert, I mean?”

“Well,” he mused, “the labyrinth is certainly there, as we both well know.” Resting his elbows on her shoulders, he stretched his arms around her, hands clasped thoughtfully.

“Aye, lass. If I know the laird Cameron, I think he’d have found a way to save his foster brother.

The man did live til the age of ninety, so whatever he did, he managed to survive it. ”

“And with well over a dozen kids too.” Felicity shook her head, exaggerated dismay on her face. “God, Lily . . . That poor woman.”

They shared a laugh, and she watched her husband, watched as those chiseled features softened, his hazel eyes looking to someplace faraway.

“Do you miss it?” she asked quietly. “Old Scotland, I mean?”

“Och,” he smiled. His eyes scanned around them, taking in the world they’d built together.

A cottage, land, trees. She traveled twice a week into Perth, where she was studying to be a veterinarian.

They had a paddock full of horses, and Will had a rich life as a horse breeder, and, she believed, the best kids’ riding instructor in the Highlands. “I love our life,” he told her.

Cupping her chin, he added, “You forget what gifts your modern age gives. Here, where the water runs, but the blood does not. So, no, lass.” He smiled. “I don’t miss it one wee bit.”

He spun her suddenly, and she yelped in surprise. Will reeled her to him, dipped her, and stole a quick kiss.

He pulled Felicity back up, keeping her tucked close. “My life is where you are. You, my delight. And besides, love,” he said, giving Felicity a loving little swat to her rump. “I find you to be a very bonny dancer.”

They laughed, and kissed, and Will and Felicity walked arm in arm back inside, to peek at the kids one last time for the night.