Page 35

EPILOGUE: EVERYTHING I’VE EVER WANTED

A month later …

“I’M WITH BAIRN.”

Bonnie’s announcement brought Rose to her feet with a shriek. “I knew it!”

For the past couple of weeks, Bonnie had been complaining of feeling a little off-color, and when she’d thrown up her bannock the morning before, Iver insisted they paid the healer in Ceann Locha a visit.

The laird and his wife set off early that morning and had only just returned.

It was now mid-afternoon, and Rose had been ensconced in the ladies’ solar with her mother-by-marriage, working her way through a pile of mending, when Bonnie rushed in.

As usual, she’d worked alongside the alewife in the morning, yet there was always plenty in the broch to keep her occupied later in the day.

Bonnie’s cheeks were flushed, her blue eyes bright with joy.

Rose knew how much this meant to her. Iver and Bonnie had been wed a year and a half now, and her womb hadn’t quickened. Bonnie had confided in her that she worried there was something amiss.

But now, her fears had been allayed.

“How far along are ye?” Sheena asked, rising to her feet. Unlike Bonnie, their mother-by-marriage managed to contain her excitement.

“The healer thinks at least two moons.”

“Didn’t ye notice yer courses had stopped?”

“Aye, but they have never been regular … and so I thought little of it.”

“What wonderful news,” Rose said, approaching Bonnie and enfolding her in a hug. “I’m so happy for ye both.”

“Iver is overjoyed,” Bonnie admitted, her eyes shining. “We both are.”

“He’ll be eager for a son,” Sheena replied, moving forward, and favoring Bonnie with the stiffest hug Rose had ever seen.

“He’ll be equally happy with a daughter too,” Bonnie corrected her gently.

Rose’s mouth quirked. Sheena Mackay was as prickly as a thistle, yet Bonnie handled her with grace.

Rose wished she had the same patience. However, there had been a few times over the past weeks when she’d ‘had words’ with her mother-by-marriage.

Sheena didn’t dare make comments about Rose’s father and brothers.

Instead, she found fault with most things Rose did.

Her stitches weren’t neat enough, she didn’t pour wine properly, or speak to the servants with the right gravitas.

Finally, Rose had lost her patience and told the woman that she didn’t need her opinion or advice on such things. Sheena hadn’t appreciated her response, yet Rose’s tone had been sharp enough to warn her from continuing. Ever since then, relations between them had been cool, yet much politer.

“I must tell Davina!” Bonnie exclaimed, running her hands over her midriff, which still bore no sign of the bairn she carried.

“Aye, and ye’ll get the chance,” Sheena replied, her mouth lifting at the corners just a fraction. “Have ye forgotten she and Lennox arrive tomorrow?”

“Of course … with all the excitement of getting things ready for Greer’s arrival, I forgot,” Bonnie replied, shaking her head.

“I must calm myself or Davina will start fussing over me the moment she arrives.” She then glanced over at Rose, smiling.

“I don’t know what I’d have done without yer help. ”

“Aye, well, the broch has never looked finer,” Rose replied. Indeed, they’d scrubbed the floors and walls, put down fresh rushes in the hall, and redecorated Davina’s old chamber for their guest.

“It doesn’t matter how ye dress this place up,” Sheena said, returning to her window seat and picking up her sewing. “A clan-chief’s daughter will find this broch shabby indeed compared to the finery of Druminnor Castle.”

That was the wrong thing to say, for Bonnie’s face fell, her gaze shadowing. “Do ye think so?” she asked, her voice faltering.

Sheena’s reaction reminded Rose that, like her, Bonnie didn’t hail from this world.

It didn’t matter much to Rose, for she was wedded to the third-born Mackay son.

It was unlikely that Kerr would ever rule the Mackays of Dun Ugadale.

But Bonnie’s position as the laird’s wife meant that she was constantly navigating uncharted waters.

Rose didn’t miss the gleam of satisfaction in Sheena’s eyes now. Bonnie’s insecurity gave her back the reins of control.

“That’s not to say she won’t find it charming,” Sheena said lightly, making a deft, neat stitch with her needle and thread, “I, for one, can’t understand why she even agreed to spend the summer here.”

“Greer was fascinated by my tales of Dun Ugadale,” Bonnie answered. Her smile was gone now. She appeared a little subdued. “And she was delighted when I suggested she stay with us.”

Sheena pulled a face, while Rose frowned. She wasn’t about to let their mother-by-marriage ruin this for Bonnie.

“Ye read out her last letter to me, Bonnie, if ye recall?” she said, stepping forward and placing a hand on her sister-by-marriage’s arm.

“She seemed beside herself with excitement to be spending the summer on the Kintyre Peninsula. Her missive was warm … she doesn’t appear to be the sort to pass judgment.

” Rose paused then. “Besides, Dun Ugadale is an impressive broch … and now that the south walls are mended, ye should be proud to show it off.”

She could almost feel Sheena’s glower upon her, yet she ignored it.

Let the woman skewer her with her stare. She wouldn’t allow her to upset Bonnie. Their special guest was due to arrive either late that afternoon or the following morning at the latest.

“Greer will be pleased to hear yer news too,” Rose added. She cut a glance at Sheena, who was viewing her, mouth pursed. “We shall all start sewing clothes for the bairn.”

The afternoon was drawing out, the shadows lengthening and the sunlight turning golden, when Rose made her way out to the barmkin. Kerr would soon be finishing for the day, and she was eager to see him.

“Go on, Brodie. Let’s see if ye can hit the bullseye!”

Emerging from the broch, her gaze alighted upon the group of men gathered at one end of the space. Kerr was among them, and they were watching Brodie throw knives at a board a few yards distant.

Rose halted on the steps a moment, watching as her brother-by-marriage launched knife after knife from the belt at his waist.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

They hit the target’s inner ring—but not dead-center.

Brodie halted then, arching a dark eyebrow at his brother. “Yer turn.”

Kerr nodded. He stepped up, taking the knife belt from Brodie and strapping it around his hips. He then walked forward and pulled the five knives his brother had thrown free of the wooden target.

“Two silver pennies if ye hit the bullseye, Captain!” One of the men called out.

“Aye, Brodie didn’t quite manage it … but can ye?” another quipped.

Brodie cast a dark look at the warrior, who abruptly stopped sniggering.

“Two pennies it is,” Kerr replied, his expression inscrutable. “That should buy my fair wife some more of that rose-scented soap she loves so much.”

Rose smiled. Aye, the soap had been quite a discovery—quite unlike the coarse blocks she’d used all her life. She was fortunate indeed, for Kerr often surprised her with gifts.

“Go on then,” Brodie said grumpily, folding his brawny arms across his chest, his dark brows drawing together. “Show us all how it’s done.”

Kerr stepped up to the spot where his brother had thrown his knives, his gaze narrowing as he focused on the target.

Rose continued to watch with interest. The throwing knives looked deadly: twelve-inch blades with slender wooden handles.

Kerr positioned himself carefully, with one leg before the other, his weight resting on the leg opposite his throwing arm.

Sighting the target, he then brought the blade back behind his shoulder.

Rose held her breath as he swung his arm in an arc and let the knife fly easily from his hand.

It completed two full spins before thudding into the target.

He threw each of the five knives in quick succession, each landing on the inner ring of the target. And the last one he threw hit dead-center.

Rose’s breath gusted out of her, a grin flowering across her face. She’d had no idea Kerr was so good at knife throwing, although after watching Brodie, he wasn’t lacking in skill either.

“Well done,” she called out, clapping.

All the men turned, surprise rippling across their faces. They hadn’t realized they had an audience.

Kerr smiled back, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He then bowed to her. “Thank ye, my love.” Straightening up, her husband held out his hand to the warrior he’d made the bet with. “That’ll be two silver pennies, Ceard.”

“I didn’t think ye’d be as good at that as Brodie, Captain,” the man muttered as he dug into the coin purse on his belt. “Have ye been practicing in secret?”

Kerr’s smile widened. It warmed Rose to see the expression.

In the past, he’d always been so serious—a man who seemed to carry the weight of the world upon his shoulders—but since they’d been together, Kerr smiled far more readily.

“No, it was just a timely shot.” He then winked at Brodie, who snorted.

“Aye, just timely,” the smith replied.

“Well … that’s it for the day, lads,” Kerr said then, retrieving the knives and sliding them back into the belt. He then unbuckled it, handing the belt to Ceard. “Ye’d all better wash up for supper.”

The warriors moved to comply, and Brodie walked back to his forge. Meanwhile, Kerr approached Rose.

“Did ye hear the news about Bonnie?” she greeted him.

“Aye,” he replied, stopping before her, and leaning in for a soft yet lingering kiss. When he drew back, he was smiling. “Iver has been grinning like a fool all afternoon.”

“I hope that I too will soon make ye that happy,” she murmured, placing her hands upon his chest. He wore a sleeveless leather vest, although she could feel the warmth of his skin through it. The day had been still and hot, the warmest of summer so far.

“Ye already do,” he replied, his gaze softening. “Bairns would be nice, aye … but I already have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Rose leaned into him, favoring him with a lingering kiss, before she whispered. “Tha gaol agam ort, Kerr.”

And she did love him. Wholeheartedly. Passionately. Life at Dun Ugadale hadn’t been without its challenges. She missed her aunt and Ailis’s company at times, and Sheena could be wearying, but she wouldn’t give this up for anything.

Every morning when she woke up in Kerr’s arms, she felt blessed.

He smiled down at her. “I never tire of hearing ye say that, mo chridhe,” he murmured.

“Captain!” A shout from above interrupted them. “We’ve got visitors!”

Rose stepped back from her husband, her gaze traveling across to the open gate and raised portcullis. Moments later, she heard the clatter of approaching hoofbeats. “It must be Greer Forbes,” she said. “Bonnie said she was due here at any time.”

“Can ye see their plaid?” Kerr called up to the guard.

“Aye, dark green and black.”

Kerr turned back to Rose. “Sounds like the Forbeses to me.” He reached out and put his arm around her shoulders then, and they moved out into the center of the barmkin. “Come, wife … let’s give them a warm Mackay welcome.”

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