Page 14 of To Wed a Witch (Reluctant Brides #3)

B haltair leaned back in his chair, satisfaction warming his chest as he reviewed the ledgers. The heavy leather purse beside his elbow—Sìne's dowry—had already begun to transform the fortunes of Clan Ferguson.

A sharp rap at the door interrupted his thoughts. "Enter," he called.

Dugald stepped inside, followed by Ada and three men. Their clothes marked them as guild craftsmen, namely, a mason, a carpenter, and a familiar figure in a soot-stained apron.

"The tradesmen ye requested, my laird," Dugald announced. "Ada also wants a word about food supplies."

Bhaltair rose and extended his hand to each man in turn, pausing when he reached the blacksmith. "Kenneth! Good to see ye again. I hear there's much to be done with the forge."

"Aye, it's in dire need of repairs and supplies. But we'll set it right." He handed over his calculations on a parchment, and Bhaltair scanned the contents, then nodded. "I've no doubt."

Bhaltair turned to the mason. "Now then, what's the damage to my coffers?"

The mason, a burly man with calloused hands, handed over a piece of parchment with figures on it. "That should cover the stonework for the outer walls and several cottages and should be completed within eight sennights."

"And the timber work will need six sennights if the weather holds," added the carpenter, as he handed over his quote for materials. "Winter damaged near a dozen roofs, and the Great Hall's rafters need reinforcing."

Bhaltair moved to his desk and withdrew several pouches of coins. "Half payment now, half upon satisfactory completion. Can ye all manage that?"

The three men exchanged glances and nodded in unison.

"Excellent." Bhaltair counted out the relevant amounts for each tradesman and handed them each a pouch. "Then we have an agreement."

As they filed out, coins secured and work promised, Dugald lingered with Ada. "Shall I see to the grain merchants next, my laird?" he asked.

"Aye, and the livestock dealers Murphy mentioned yesterday. We'll need seeds, cattle, sheep, and breeding stock." Bhaltair settled back into his chair, already reaching for the next stack of unpaid invoices. "After that, we'll need to hire laborers. Our people have gone without wages far too long."

"Ada, what about the kitchen supplies?"

"My laird, we have what we need for now thanks to yesterday's purchases. But the kitchens should be fully stocked within the sennight."

"Good," he replied.

Dugald's eyes gleamed. "It'll be good to see full bellies and warm hearths again, my laird."

"That it will." Bhaltair dipped his quill in ink and began crossing debts off his ledger with firm strokes.

Each mark felt like lifting a stone from his shoulders.

"I think 'tis time we had a small celebration in honor of my new bride.

Perhaps tonight we could prepare something special?

It does not need to be elaborate, but I think 'tis time we formally welcomed my wife and bairn into the fold. "

Ada replied, "Aye, 'tis a good idea, my laird. I'll see that the cooks put on a special meal and something for the wee lass as well."

"Thank ye, Ada. I appreciate it. I may not say it often, but ye have been a great help to me since I took over the lairdship. Ye even put up with my bellowing, and for that I'm grateful."

"Och, dinnae mention it. Ye remind me of my own sons. All bluster and no bite!"

Bhaltair chuckled at that statement.

Ada cleared her throat and continued, "My laird, if I may? Lady Sìne being a healer and all, she'll likely be needing her own cottage for tending the sick. There's the old grain cottage that's been sitting empty since Nan passed two winters back."

"Of course, I'll see that it's cleaned and stocked with whatever supplies she might need. And Ada, in time my wife will need to familiarize herself with the running of the keep. I'd appreciate yer guidance with that."

Ada's face brightened considerably. "I'd be more than happy to help! Truth be told, I'm getting too old to manage everything myself. These old bones aren't what they used to be..." She trailed off, looking pleased.

After Ada left, Bhaltair asked Dugald and Murphy to stay a while.

"Laird?" Dugald asked.

"I never said it before, but I wish to thank ye both."

"What for?" Murphy asked.

"For coming up with the harebrained scheme to marry Sìne MacKay."

The men looked slightly embarrassed.

"Och, 'twas nothing but a notion," Dugald replied.

"Aye, I ken it. I may have not appreciated yer methods in the past... but yer loyalty to me and the clan is second to none."

Murphy grinned. "Seems like ye got yerself a bonnie wife and bairn in the bargain."

"That I did, and I'm grateful for once that ye all saw fit to interfere with my personal life."

"Dinnae mention it, laird. We're just glad she did not turn out to be a shrew!" Dugald replied as they chortled over that statement.

When they left, Bhaltair allowed himself a moment of quiet satisfaction. The dark cloud that had hung over Clan Ferguson for months was finally lifting, all thanks to the woman who'd brought sunshine back into their lives.

***

T HAT EVENING, THE GREAT Hall blazed with more torches than had been lit in months.

The long tables held platters of roasted meat, fresh bread, and vegetables and freshly brewed mead that hadn't been seen at Ferguson Keep for some time.

The air rang with laughter and conversation as clan members filled benches that had sat too empty for too long.

At the head table upon the dais, Bhaltair rose and raised his cup, waiting for the hall to quiet.

He held Aidyn in one arm, her tiny fist curled against his chest. The sight of their fierce laird cradling the infant with such obvious tenderness had caused more than a few knowing smiles among the clan.

"My friends, my kin," Bhaltair's voice carried easily across the hall, "tonight we celebrate not just new members of my family, but new hope for our future."

Beside him, Sìne ducked her head, her cheeks flushing under the attention of dozens of eyes. She wore her wedding gown that brought out her eyes, her hair braided with small wildflowers the clan's children had gathered for her.

"Lady Sìne," Bhaltair continued, his free hand finding hers, "and wee Aidyn have brought more than just their presence to Ferguson Keep. They've brought renewed prosperity, renewed strength, and," his voice softened as he gazed down at his wife, "renewed joy to these halls."

"To Lady Sìne and Aidyn!" called out Murphy from the middle of the hall, raising his cup high.

"To Lady Sìne and Aidyn!" the hall echoed back, benches scraping as everyone rose to toast their new lady.

Sìne's blush deepened as she stood. "Thank ye all for yer warm welcome," she said. "Aidyn and I are honored to call Ferguson Keep our home."

The cheers that followed were genuine and heartfelt. As the clan settled back into their seats and proceeded to fill their bellies, several of the women approached the head table. Agnes, the head cook, bustled forward with obvious delight.

"My lady," she beamed, "it's been far too long since we've had a proper mistress of the Keep. Might I show ye the kitchens tomorrow? Ada said it would be good ye have the knowledge of things."

"I'd be delighted," Sìne replied, her natural warmth breaking through her shyness.

An elderly woman tottered over with the help of her walking stick. "The bairn's bonnie as a spring morning," she declared, peering at Aidyn. "Has she been sleeping well in her new chambers?"

"Better than I expected," Sìne admitted. "Though I fear she may be spoiled with all the attention she's receiving."

Bhaltair chuckled, adjusting his hold on the baby. "She's a Ferguson now. A bit of spoiling will not hurt her."

As more women gathered around Sìne, drawing her into conversations about everything from weaving to winter preparations, Bhaltair remained close, one eye always on his new family.

Little Aidyn, now old enough for soft foods, sat on his lap as he fed her a mix of pottage and milk during the meal.

He talked to the men as he patiently spooned the mixture into her mouth.

Aidyn chewed and kicked her legs with delight whilst Bhaltair wiped her chin with tenderness.

"Never thought I'd see the day," muttered a member of his war band, approaching with a cup of ale. "Bhaltair Ferguson playing nursemaid."

"Careful, Greig," Bhaltair warned with a grin, "or ye'll find yerself on stable duty for a week."

"No jest, laird. 'Tis good to see ye happy." The man's expression grew serious. "The whole clan needed this. We were beginning to wonder if the Ferguson luck had run out entirely."

Bhaltair's smile faded slightly. "Speaking of luck, any word from the scouts?"

"Still camped beyond the south border. No movement toward our lands, but they're not leaving either." Greig lowered his voice. "Fifteen men. Well-armed."

A protective instinct flared in Bhaltair's chest as he looked down at Aidyn, then across at Sìne laughing softly with the clan women. "Double the watch. I want to ken the moment they cross the border."

"Already done."

The evening continued with music and stories, and Bhaltair found himself reluctant to let either his wife or daughter stray far from his side.

As the night wore on and little Aidyn grew drowsy in his lap, rubbing her eyes with tiny fists, he caught Sìne's eye across the conversation of women surrounding her.

She excused herself gracefully and came to his side. "She's tired," she said softly, reaching for the child. "I'll put her to bed."

Bhaltair stood, lifting Aidyn gently. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, then leaned over to brush his lips against Sìne's cheek. Her skin was warm and smelled faintly of lavender.

"Remember what we discussed last evening," he murmured close to her ear, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "I'll be expecting ye in our chambers when I retire."