Page 75 of The Laird's Wicked Game

EPILOGUE: THE INVITATION

One month later …

“A LETTER FORye, mo chridhe.”

Looking up from where she was smearing a generous amount of heather honey onto her buttered wedge of bannock, Kylie watched her husband enter their bedchamber. “Me?”

Rae looked rumpled this morning, his lèine partially untucked, his hair—which he’d grown longer of late—spiky. It was how she liked him best; a vision she enjoyed every morning. Earlier, he’d been sitting in bed with her, breaking his fast on a leisurely Saturday morning, when a servant had announced a rider had arrived in the barmkin with a missive.

“Aye.” He heeled off his boots, handed her a scroll of parchment, and climbed onto the bed, seating himself against the nest of pillows once more.

Glancing down at the wax seal, she noted the lion’s head crest that had been pressed into it.

“It’s from my father,” she murmured.

“Open it then.”

She did, although with a little trepidation. Bruce MacGregor wasn’t one for writing missives. Unfurling the scroll, she cleared her throat.

“Dearest daughter, I hope this letter finds ye well,” she read aloud. “Here at Meggernie Castle, we are preparing for the wedding of our youngest. Bran Mackinnon of Dùn Ara has finally confirmed that he shall arrive on the last day of April, and the union between him and Makenna will take place the day after Bealtunn.” She paused there, glancing up at Rae.

Her husband was buttering himself some bannock as he listened, his brow furrowed. “Mackinnon is going through with it then.”

“Aye … although he took a long while to answer my father’s last missive. I’d say he left it as late as he could before responding.”

Rae inclined his head. “Does he say anything else?”

Clearing her throat, Kylie lowered her gaze to the letter once more and continued reading. “As this marriage means all my daughters will be wedded, I wish to make it a true family affair. As such, I invite ye and yer husband to join us. I will also send invitations to Liza, Sonia, and Alma. I trust that ye are available to attend and look forward to welcoming ye and the laird of Dounarwyse to Meggernie … yer loving father. ‘S Rioghal mo dhream.”

Royal is my race. It was the MacGregor motto, and Bruce MacGregor ended all his missives with it.

Raising her gaze once more, she met Rae’s. Swallowing a mouthful of bannock, his lips tugged into a wry smile. “That sounded more like a summons than an invitation.”

She winced. “It did … that’s my father’s way, I’m afraid.” She paused then, her gaze searching his face. Although they rarely spoke of it, she never forgot that the MacGregors had once sided with the Mackinnons and laid siege to this broch. Rae had assured her that it didn’t bother him, although she wouldn’t have blamed him if he secretly resented her father. However, she saw no anger in his eyes. “But if ye’d rather not attend, I can go alone.”

He put down his bannock, his eyebrows knitting together. “Of course, I shall accompany ye.”

“Are ye sure?” She paused then, choosing her words carefully. “After what he did?”

Rae gave a decisive nod. He then reached out and placed a hand over her forearm. “It’s all done with now.”

“That’s fair-minded of ye.” She pulled a face then. “I’m not sure my father would be in yer place.”

He snorted. “Well then … that’s another reason why I shall accompany ye to Meggernie. Relations between the Macleans and the MacGregors could do with repairing.” He winked at her then. “And I do enjoy a wedding.”

Her gaze roamed over his face, warmth blooming inside her like the daffodils on the hillside below the broch at present. She didn’t think it was possible—but the longer she spent in Rae Maclean’s company, the more she loved him. She adored his big heart. His kindness. He could be harsh when needed, deadly even, but he wasn’t petty.

A smile curved her lips then as excitement fluttered in her belly. She’d get to see all her sisters again, and her parents. It had been nearly a decade since the whole family had been reunited. This would be a special occasion indeed. “Ye’ll have to see Bran Mackinnon though,” she warned him.

Rae shrugged. “As I said, this trip will be good for clan relations. After his father’s defeat, I left him to nurse his bruises … but the time is coming for the Mackinnons and the Macleans to treat once more.”

She must have looked doubtful, for he smiled then, his hand rising to stroke her cheek. “I’d prefer to conserve my energy in times of peace. Life can and will bring trials … but it’s foolish to throw stones into yer own path unnecessarily.”

Kylie smiled. “Well said.”

He inclined his head. “Do ye mock me, wife?”

“Not at all.” She caught his hand and brought it to her lips, kissing the back of it gently. “I’m madly in love with ye … and proud ye are my husband.”