CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“ I t’s a fine day,” Nicholas said.
“Aye, it is,” Alexandra smiled.
He looked at her to see that she was glowing, and he smugly felt proud that he put that glow on her face by providing her with her every wish.
The morning sun warmed the garden paths as Nicholas walked beside Alexandra, Charles skipping ahead with a stick in hand, pretending it was a sword.
Birds chirped in the hedges, and the scent of rosemary floated from the kitchen garden.
Alexandra brushed her hand along a blooming rose bush, her smile soft.
"I still cannae believe Erica turned out to be the Lady all along," she said.
Nicholas exhaled, nodding with quiet relief. “Aye… that turn of fate saved us a bloody clan war. The men are restin’ easier now, and I sleep with both eyes shut.” He glanced over at her, the wind teasing a lock of her hair. “Ye’ve handled it all with grace, lass.”
“I’ve sent word to Rosaline, me brother's wife.” Alexandra added, her voice measured. “She’ll break the news gently to him. He’s bound to be shocked, but less so if it comes from his wife.” She paused, then looked sideways at Nicholas.
Nicholas chuckled, catching her hand in his. “Ye should have sent a weddin’ invitation with that letter,” he said. “I’ve waited long enough, Alexandra. I want to marry ye—soon.”
Before Alexandra could respond, Charles turned with wide eyes. “Does this mean… ye’ll be me new maither?” His little voice was filled with hope, and he stepped closer, his hand clutching hers.
Alexandra knelt so she was eye level with the boy. She smoothed a bit of hair back from his forehead and smiled warmly. “Aye, laddie. I’d be more than delighted to be yer maither, if ye’ll have me.”
Charles flung his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder. “I already do!” he said with a giggle, voice muffled in her gown. Alexandra laughed, holding him tightly, eyes wet with joy.
Nicholas stood a few steps back, watching them with something heavy and tender rising in his chest. In that simple embrace, he saw the truth—Alexandra had already become a mother to his son, with or without vows.
The lad loved her with the ease of someone who had found home again.
And Nicholas, in that moment, knew his family was whole.
"Let's sit here on this bench and admire our good fate," he said.
Nicholas sat down, his arm resting lazily around the back of Alexandra. Charles sat beside them, swinging his legs as he devoured a honeyed oat cake, crumbs dotting his tunic.
Peace, once so foreign to Nicholas, now nestled itself in the quiet moments like this—moments where laughter came easier, and the shadows of war and loss stayed at bay. Erica had returned to McLaren Castle, and Alexandra had not wept for her, only smiled with pride.
The days passed on in this blissful glee. Until one day, that changed when shouts were heard from the walls.
“Sinclair banners! Approachin’ from the north road!”
Nicholas strode swiftly toward the ramparts, climbing up. He peered at the horizon. Then glancing over his shoulder, she saw Alexandra run into the courtyard.
“It’s yer brother,” he called down to Alexandra. “I see him and Lady Rosaline ridin’ at the front.”
The gates creaked open moments later, and through them rode Caelan Sinclair, the Laird himself, with his wife beside him and a dozen men behind.
His eyes were like stone as he dismounted, his gaze fixed on Alexandra.
Rosaline slid off her horse more gently, offering a warm smile toward her sister-in-law, but Caelan stormed forward, boots thudding against the stone.
“What in God’s name were ye thinkin’, lass?” he barked, eyes blazing. “Acceptin’ a marriage proposal from the very man that stole ye?”
Alexandra stiffened but didn’t flinch. “Nicholas saved me. He kept me safe and treated me with more respect than a captive.” Her chin lifted in defiance. “And aye, I said yes. I’ll be marryin’ him, whether ye give yer blessin’ or nae.”
Caelan’s jaw worked furiously. “Do ye ken what kind of scandal this brings upon the Sinclair name? Ye want to marry the man that… that-"
“That killed the brute who threatened us with war?” Alexandra snapped. “Aye, I do, and I’m glad of it.”
“Watch yer tongue,” Caelan growled. “Ye speak like a lass who’s forgotten where her loyalties lie.”
“Me loyalties are where they’ve always been—with what is right!” she shouted, stepping forward. “Leo was a monster! Ye ken it, Caelan. And ye should be thankin’ Nicholas for riddin’ the Highlands of him!”
Rosaline placed a hand on her husband’s arm, but Caelan shook it off. “She’s me sister,” he muttered. “I willnae let her be led by emotion into marryin’—”
“I’m nae bein’ led anywhere,” Alexandra cut in, voice sharp. “It's me choice and me choice alone.”
Nicholas watched in silence, letting Alexandra speak her truth. It stirred something deep within him, hearing her defend him so fiercely. Charles peeked up at him from beneath his fringe of curls, clutching his sleeve. “Is that her brother?” the lad whispered.
“Aye,” Nicholas murmured. “And he’s a stubborn fool.”
“Alexandra,” Caelan said, exasperated, “if ye marry him, I cannae protect ye then.”
“I daenae need protectin’,” she said. “I need a husband who respects me. And I already gave him me word.”
“Laird Sinclair,” Nicholas said calmly. “If ye want to speak of honor, then speak plainly. But if ye came here to insult yer sister and question her heart, then I’ll ask ye to leave.”
Caelan’s eyes snapped to him. “And what will ye do if I daenae?”
“I’ll stand by her. Always.”
A tense silence followed. Rosaline touched Caelan’s arm again, and this time he didn’t shake her off.
“She’s happy,” Rosaline said gently. “Can ye nae see it?”
Nicholas stood tall beneath the stone arch of the courtyard, his voice calm but firm.
‘Sinclair, I understand why ye must hate me, and in truth, ye make much sense. But perhaps we should take this conversation inside—there’s much to say that should nae be shouted across a courtyard. ’” He gestured toward the castle doors.
He watched as Caelan exchanged a glance with Rosaline. Alexandra, without hesitation, turned and led them toward the great hall. "This way if ye please, brother."
Nicholas stepped to the side as they passed, then turned to the nearest guard. “See the Sinclair men get food and drink and tend to their horses. They’ve ridden far and earned rest. Treat them as we would our own.”
Nicholas watched as Caelan looked over his shoulder at him, nodded in appreciation, and continued on.
The guards hurried to obey, and Nicholas followed the guests through the echoing halls, his boots tapping lightly on the stone floor. The great hall’s hearth glowed with embers, warmth chasing away the late afternoon chill.
He motioned to a servant. “Refreshments for our guests—bring our best wine and food."
Caelan didn’t sit. He stood stiff near the hearth, his arms crossed tightly across his chest, eyes sharp. Rosaline rested her hand gently on his elbow but said nothing, her expression careful.
Nicholas faced him, his tone steady. “The first thing I wish to say is this—I’m sorry.
I shouldnae have taken Alexandra in the first place.
It was wrong, and I ken it. I was in a moment of madness havin’ lost me own son and thought I could use her to have me son returned. I admit I was wrong in me ways."
Caelan’s voice cracked like thunder in the quiet room.
“Aye, it was wrong. It was dishonorable, reckless, and full of pride.” He took a step forward.
“The only reason I dinnae ride to yer gates with fire and sword was because me wife talked sense into me. She reminded me that if Alexandra was with the O’Donnells, it meant she wasnae with Leo Rankin. ”
His jaw clenched. “And ye’re known as a fierce Laird, aye, but nae as a sadist. Nae like Leo. That’s the only reason I dinnae come to rip her out meself.”
Alexandra’s voice came softly but firmly behind him. “Nicholas treated me as a guest, Caelan. Nae a prisoner. He gave me his protection.”
“Ye were still a hostage!” Caelan shouted, turning to her. “Do ye nae see that?”
Nicholas held his ground. “It’s true,” he said, voice low. “I took her against her will. But I’ve proven me worth to her since. She is safer with me than she would have ever been with Leo or under the false promise of a peace pact he never would have seen through.”
Caelan’s hand curled into a fist, his eyes full of old wounds and worry. “Alexandra, please… daenae do this.”
Alexandra stepped forward, eyes bright with fire and purpose.
“I am determined, brother.” Her voice softened, but it held steel.
“Ye couldnae stop me from betrothin’ meself to Leo—and that was a terrible choice I made in fear and duty.
But this—this choice I make of me own freewill, and I’ll nae be swayed. ”
Caelan opened his mouth to speak, but Rosaline gently pulled him back. “Let her speak her heart, Caelan,” she murmured.
Nicholas’s heart pounded as he watched Alexandra stand taller than he’d ever seen her. Her pride, her courage, it left him breathless.
“I want this,” she continued, her voice shaking slightly. “Nae to secure borders or please our council. I want Nicholas. I want Charles. I want a life where I daenae have to trade pieces of me soul to make others feel safe.”
Caelan turned away, raking a hand through his hair. The silence stretched, broken only by the quiet crackle of the hearth.
Nicholas spoke again. “I understand this is hard for ye, Caelan. Truly, I do. If it were me sister, I might feel the same. But ye ken yer sister. She was never one to be led by the leash.”
Caelan gave a bitter laugh, his shoulders finally lowering. “That’s true enough.” He looked over at Alexandra, his expression weary. “Ye always were stubborn.”
Alexandra gave him a small smile. “I learned it from ye.”
He rubbed his face again, the fight slowly leaving him. “I daenae like it,” he muttered. “But I believe ye. And I trust Rosaline’s judgment. If she believes ye’ve found peace here, then maybe I should as well.”
Nicholas stepped forward, offering his hand once more. “I’ll protect her with all I am.”
Caelan stared at the hand for a long moment. Then he took it, gripping it tight. “If ye ever break her heart, I’ll bury ye in the coldest loch I can find.”
Nicholas chuckled. “Fair enough.”
Alexandra let out a breath of relief, moving to wrap her arms around her brother. “Thank ye, Caelan. Thank ye for hearin’ me.”
“I’ll always hear ye, sister,” he said softly. “Even when I daenae like what ye’re sayin’.”
Rosaline moved to embrace them both, her face shining with quiet joy. Nicholas stood back, watching the reunion, his heart full. This was the beginning of something promising.
Something true.