Page 36 of The Highlander’s Hunted Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #2)

EPILOGUE

“ I might have added more beadin’ if I had the time,” Katie said, smoothing her nervous hands down the front of her wedding gown. “I ken it’s simple, but… I didnae want to be uncomfortable.”

She was waiting for some kind of reaction from the small audience of Bonnie, Rosie, Alison, and Isla that had gathered in her bedchamber to help her prepare for the wedding.

In truth, she’d been perfectly happy with her dress until she’d been informed that all the Lairds of the Braeriach region would be in attendance. As it was the olive branch to a more encompassing peace treaty, the stakes of the wedding had suddenly become a lot higher.

“Are ye all awake?” Katie asked desperately. “Do ye think it’s good enough?”

It wasn’t as if she had a spare, but any opinion from the quartet would’ve been more welcome than their silence.

Isla seemed to snap out of a trance. “It’s… it’s…”

“It’s awful, is it nae?” Katie winced. “They’re goin’ to take one look at me and wonder if Hector has gone mad.”

“It’s beautiful!” Bonnie gushed, darting forward to wrap her arms around her sister. “It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen, and I hate dresses.”

Isla nodded. “That was almost exactly what I was goin’ to say, though I cannae claim to hate dresses when I have more than I ken what to do with.”

“I think the other lairds—aside from me own, of course—are goin’ to wish they’d met ye first,” Alison said with a wink. “Ye look every bit a Lady, Katie. It’s a perfect gown, truly.”

Katie breathed a sigh of relief. “Ye’re nae just sayin’ that so I dinnae start weepin’?”

“I promise,” Alison replied as Bonnie squeezed her sister harder.

Though the little girl had long outgrown being picked up, Katie heaved her sister into her arms. She noticed, with some surprise, that Bonnie’s eyes were glittering with tears.

“What’s wrong, little one?” she asked.

Bonnie sniffed, dashing the tears from her cheeks. “Nothin’. Ye just look… so pretty. And ye’re gettin’ married, which means ye’ll soon have bairns of yer own and ye’ll forget all about me. Isla will end up raisin’ me.” She gestured backward. “I like Isla, but she’s nae ye.”

“Och, me wee, sweet, daft goose,” Katie cooed, hugging her sister close. “I couldnae ever forget ye, and me bein’ married, or havin’ bairns of me own, willnae change anythin’. Why, it’s more likely that ye’ll start wishin’ I’d leave ye alone than me abandonin’ ye, lassie.”

Bonnie brightened. “That’ll never happen.”

“Aye, we’ll see.” Katie laughed, kissing her cheek. “But ye’re me sister, and I’ve raised ye, and ye ken I never leave a task unfinished, so I’m afraid ye’re stuck with me.”

Bonnie leaned in, hugging her in return. “Promise?”

“I promise,” Katie replied.

At that moment, the sound of paws scuffing on flagstones interrupted the heartfelt conversation, and Pipkin came barreling into the room. He sat with a thud, his tail sweeping the floor, looking so very proud of himself.

“What have they done to ye?” Bonnie wailed, scrambling down from her sister’s embrace.

The huge dog had been dressed for the occasion, wearing a cape made of MacKimmon tartan and a matching, little woolen hat, perched on his head and tied with string.

“I think this means we’re bein’ summoned,” Katie quipped, laughing.

How could she be nervous when the loyal hound looked so pleased with himself, wearing his fancy clothes? She had a feeling that Flynn was responsible for the costume, and she couldn’t have been more grateful. Who would be looking at her when Pipkin was there, wagging his tail, looking so resplendent?

“Ye really do look beautiful,” Isla said, coming to take Katie’s arm. “And I think this is goin’ to be a very happy marriage, indeed. I willnae ask why the two of ye were out in those woods all day yesterday, but what I do ken is that ye came back with that look in yer eyes.”

“What look?” Katie choked out, her face burning.

Isla chuckled softly. “A look of love, Katie. It’s rare enough these days, and I’m so very glad that the two of ye managed to find it out there in that forest.”

Cheeks still blazing, Katie allowed the old woman to guide her out into the hallway. Alison and Rosie followed behind, while Bonnie and Pipkin led the way.

“Ye’re goin’ to end up spoiled, I feel it,” Bonnie muttered to her beloved, furry, slobbering friend as she adjusted his hat and cape and pressed on.

Embarrassed as she was, Katie had to smile. Not so long ago, they had been scrounging and scraping for every meal, wondering when the next round of angry villagers would come and make life that little bit harder.

Now, her siblings were beginning a life of comfort and opportunity, where they would never have to think of where their next meal was coming from, or if they’d eat at all. They would have everything they could ever want and be whatever they desired. Hector had already promised that he would hire a tutor to teach Bonnie and Lyall to read and write, and for Katie too, if she wanted to learn.

Although Lyall had already hinted at wanting to join the guards, his entire demeanor toward Hector shifted after Hector had promised to teach him how to fight.

“If I’m goin’ to be a warrior, I ought to learn from the best! I cannae wait! I’m goin’ to be the best, too, one day,” the boy had gushed to Katie over breakfast that morning, as giddy as a child with a gift in his hand.

It was more than she ever could have imagined for herself and her siblings, especially after the actions of her elder brother.

It was, in truth, a dream come true. And with her siblings and Pipkin taken care of, it really felt like she was finally being allowed to have her own dream. A dream that started with Hector and, with any luck, would end with him too.

Standing in the kirk, his hand bound to Katie’s with an embroidered strip of linen that had been in the family for generations, Hector had resisted the urge to pinch himself. He was not even certain if he had said all of the right words, though the priest seemed to have deemed them correct, as he had pronounced them man and wife anyway.

Even now, seated beside his wife at the feasting table in the Great Hall, he couldn’t quite believe his good fortune. He had chased her into those woods that first time, meaning to capture a thief, yet he had captured something altogether more wonderful: her. A woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life loving.

“Who is everyone?” Katie whispered, looking so beautiful in her pure white gown.

Indeed, it looked as if she had draped herself in freshly fallen snow, the intricate beading catching the light like the glitter of the snowy fields in winter. He couldn’t quite believe she had made it by herself in such a short time, but it was completely perfect on her—not fussy, unusual, and the cause of many a compliment.

“Those two,” he replied, pointing to two men seated halfway down the table, “are the Lairds who have the least quarrel with me, aside from Duncan. Laird MacLiddell and Laird MacGunn. Allies, in truth, though we dinnae make the most of that. The two men opposite them are Laird Kincaid and Laird MacDonnell—they cannae stand me, and I dinnae much like them. They’re likely makin’ their men-at-arms taste everythin’ first, for fear of me poisonin’ them.”

Katie’s eyes widened. “Ye havenae, have ye?”

“Nay, love.” He smiled. “I wouldnae ruin yer weddin’ day like that. I’d send someone to do it in secret, in their castles. But, if we’re to have this peace, then those days are over. Dinnae fret.”

In truth, Hector was pleasantly surprised by how well everything was going, and how content everyone seemed to be. Up and down the feasting table, the guests were chatting, drinking, laughing, making merry—old foes recounting old battles with one another as if remembering childhood mischief instead of violent bloodshed.

Observing it all with his hand holding Katie’s, he was struck by the sudden feeling that this might be possible after all—that peace might be possible in this corner of the world.

“Look at the two of ye!” Isla crowed, snapping him out of his reverie. “Have ye ever seen a lovelier pair?”

Laird MacGunn laughed heartily, shouting, “Aye, but it wouldnae be polite to say where!”

A ripple of raucous amusement circled the table, coming back to Isla, who wouldn’t be deterred.

“I’m always right about these things,” she insisted, flashing a wink at her grandson and his new wife. “Ye might’ve hated me for a time, for doin’ what I did, but I am always right about these things. So, M’Lairds, take that as a warnin’! It might be ye I matchmake next!”

Hector clenched his jaw, concerned that his grandmother might have just sparked another war, but there seemed to be something in the air that afternoon. A potent sense of merriment that no one seemed inclined to disrupt. As such, he had to wonder if he’d gone mad as the Lairds all smirked and chuckled at the amusing threat to their bachelorhood.

“Goodness!” Katie gasped suddenly. “I forgot somethin’!”

Hector peered at her. “What?”

“I’ll nae be a moment. I need to fetch it,” she replied, getting up.

Isla raised an eyebrow. “Aye, and me grandson will need to help ye, of course.”

“Nay, I can fetch it alone,” Katie insisted, hurrying out of the Great Hall.

But, of course, Hector wasn’t going to let his wife wander through an empty castle by herself. And as he rose to follow her, he ignored the whoops and cheers and whistles that came from the guests, unable to suppress the smile that curved his lips.

He caught up to her, sliding his arm around her waist. “Are ye actually fetchin’ somethin’, or did ye just need a moment away from the rabble?”

She grinned up at him, leaning into his chest. “A bit of both.” She touched a hand to her chest. “I forgot me maither’s pendant. I took it off for me bath this mornin’, and I forgot to put it back on.”

“I’m sorry to have missed that,” he said, steering her down the narrow passageway that led to the staircase.

She eyed him with amusement. “Which part?”

“The bath,” he replied, raking his teeth over his lip. “If ye’d but summoned me, I’d have helped ye.”

She laughed. “I’m sure ye would have. Ye would have helped me to be late for me own weddin’.”

“Perhaps,” he murmured, turning suddenly and pressing her up against the wall.

He sought her mouth, kissing her with all of the love and gratitude and passion that had been building up since he watched her walk down the aisle toward him in the kirk. Her arms looped around his neck as she kissed him back with equal fervor, as if she, too, had been waiting for a moment alone with him.

It never failed to fill him with awe, how explosive a kiss with her—his wife—could be. It was like time stopped and everything else vanished, leaving his mind with more peace than he’d had in thirty years. For as long as they were kissing, only she existed, and as she only conjured good thoughts, those were all that were permitted in his mind.

As her leg draped over his hip, his hand ran up the smooth softness of her thigh, making him wonder if they had enough time to enjoy each other.

She seemed to read his mind, murmuring a “Later, love,” against his lips. Kissing him more deeply, she added, “I dinnae want to rush, considerin’ this is our weddin’ night. Indeed, I dinnae want to stop until mornin’, so ye’d better save yer strength and keep this moment in yer mind for the rest of the evenin’.”

“Cruel woman,” he said with a chuckle, kissing her again.

But as other voices sounded in the hallway, guests coming to see if they could discover the lovers in the act, Hector hurried her up the stairs to fetch the pendant.

After all, he had made a solemn vow to protect her, and that did not just mean her physical body, but her honor, her dignity, and every last one of her dreams. It was the very least he could do for the good omen that had saved him from himself, restoring a part of him that he had thought he had lost forever.

“Wife?” he said.

She turned on the staircase. “What, husband?”

“Nothin’.” He smiled. “I just wanted to say it.”

She laughed, holding out her hand to him. “Have ye turned sentimental, now that ye’re married?”

“I would never admit to such a thing,” he replied. “But I will admit that I think I’ve fallen in love with ye.”

Her eyes widened in wondrous surprise, a sly smile playing on her lips as she replied, “Ye think, or ye have?”

He went to her, cradling her face. “I love ye, lass, and I think I mean to for the rest of me days.”

“Then, in the spirit of sentimentality, ye should ken that I think I’ve fallen in love with ye too,” she replied, beaming at him as she took his hands and pulled him nearer.

He chuckled in the back of his throat. “ Think or ken?”

“Ken,” she whispered. “Aye, I do believe I love ye too. It doesnae seem possible, but I do… I love ye.”

He stole one last kiss, intertwining their hands, before they hastened through the hallway to reunite her with her mother’s pendant, his heart so full that he wondered what a withered thing it must have been before her.

And as he walked with her, he realized that it wasn’t sentimentality that had taken hold of him, but something far greater—hope. A precious thing that he now held in his heart, alongside his love for Katie. The flame that would keep them burning, and perhaps keep peace in this corner of Scotland, for the rest of their lives.

The End?