Extended Epilogues

The Castle of Eilean Donan, Spring, 1717

“Tis’ the last of the towers to be completed, tis’ a fine achievement,” Kin said, pointing up to where the last stone had just been set in the tower above them.

Murdina smiled, trying hard not to laugh.

“Ye did it again,” she said, and he looked at her curiously.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Tis’–ye said it, and nae “it is” like ye normally dae. Ye are catchin’ the brogue whether ye like it or nae, laird,” she said, slipping her arm into his.

Kin blushed and began to laugh. They had been master and mistress of Eilean Donan for two years now, and, in that time, they had presided over the rebuilding of the entire castle. When they had arrived, on a late summer’s day, a few weeks after the marriage of Freya and Cillian, the castle had been little more than a shell. But now, it stood proud and resplendent, a keep, surrounded by a curtain wall and four towers, with a gatehouse between two of them. A house had been constructed to run along one of the walls, built in a timber frame, and it would be here they would live, the keep reserved for the clansmen who had rallied around Kin on his return.

“Tis’ a fine sight, laird,” one of them said as they stepped back to survey the building.

“Tis’ a tribute… I mean, it is a tribute to my family. To see Eilean Donan rise from the ashes is to see the possibility of victory for our cause,” Kin said, and Murdina nodded.

“Aye, my father will be pleased to see it,” she said.

“And we shall be pleased to welcome him and yer sisters when they arrive. We are finished just in time,” he said, putting his arm around her.

They made their way back inside, greeting the clansmen who had just descended from the tower, covered in masonry dust.

“A fine job, men, a fine job,” Kin exclaimed.

“Who would have thought when we arrived that this is what would become of the place,” Murdina said, thinking back to the first sight she had glimpsed of the castle when, as newlyweds, they had taken up residence two years previously.

Back then, Murdina had wondered if the task they had set for themselves had been too great, but they had been blessed by fair winds and good fortune, and now, Eilean Donan was rebuilt–the legacy which Kin so passionately spoke of. But they had not forgotten their duty to the cause, and with their signet rings ever on their fingers, each remained a loyal and trusted member of the brotherhood of the knot.

“Today is a day to celebrate,” Kin said as they made their way inside the house.

It was comfortably furnished, a large hallway opening into a dining hall and parlor, their chambers lying up a flight of stairs on a landing above.

“Then we should find a way to celebrate,” Murdina replied, catching kin by the arm, and pulling him into her embrace.

“Will ye still tease me about my brogue?” he asked as their lips met.

“I find it… endearin’, to be honest. Ye are a Scot, even if all those years in the English court turned ye into somethin’ else,” she replied.

“I shall always be laird of my clan. No one can take that honor away from me. In that, I am as much as Scot as you,” he declared.

“A Scot by marriage then, for my blood flows in yer veins, I suppose,” she said, still with her arms around his neck.

“And how happy I am for that,” he said, as now their lips met again.

Murdina felt her passions aroused, and she pulled him closer, running her hands down the small of his back. After two years of marriage, she knew just how to entice him, and, as their lips parted, she bit down ever so gently, her hands now searching out his pleasure.

“Here?” she asked, a mischievous smile playing across her lips.

“No one will disturb us?” he replied as they backed against the wall, and Kin pulled at Murdina’s dress, exposing her breasts, his lips trailing down her neckline.

She allowed the dress to fall to the floor, her hands tugging at his breeches. She wanted him, she desired him, and she knew just how to bring them both the pleasure they desired. His lips traced a trail from her breasts down her stomach, his tongue searching out her pleasure. She arched her back against the wall, biting her lip at the intensity of his touch. A shudder ran through her, that ever-familiar warmth building inside her. She placed her hands on his head, thrusting forward so that his tongue pushed deep inside her, each of them moaning in a shared moment of ecstasy.

“More,” she gasped, and rising to his feet, he lifted her in his arms, her back against the wall as now he thrust himself forward.

Murdina cried out in pleasure as he entered her, his length fulfilling her desires. He held her in his arms, his rhythm strong and steady, their pleasures heightening in this snatched and unplanned moment of encounter. Their eyes were fixed, deep and gazing at one another, their pleasure as one. She pulled him further forward, thrusting her hips, as now he gave a cry, his body shuddering. She felt his seed burst forth, her own ecstasy erupting with such intensity that pulled him forward, their lips meeting in a passioned kiss, breathless from their exertions.

“You certainly wanted that,” he said, and she smiled, blushing as he set her down.

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, the two of them standing for a moment in silence, enjoying the sensation of their bodies as one. But suddenly, Murdina felt a sharp pain in her stomach, and she cried out, not in pleasure but in distress.

“Oh… Kin,” she exclaimed, and he looked at her in surprise.

“What is wrong? Are you all right, Murdina?” he said, hurrying to help her into a chair in the corner of the hallway.

“It was the strangest feelin’–like a cramp, a sharp pain in my stomach,” she said, clutching at her side.

“We must get you to bed–you must rest,” he said, and he hurried to fetch a shawl, pulling on his breeches as he did so.

Much commotion now ensued. Murdina was able to dress, and Kin summoned several clansmen to assist. They helped her up the stairs to their chambers and into bed. A fire was always kept kindled there, and Kin and the others now stood around the bed, discussing what was to be done.

“Ye must rest, mistress,” one of them said, and the others agreed, but one of the women–an elderly woman, gray-haired and stooped–now stepped forward and looked at Murdina curiously.

“Have ye had these pains before, mistress?” she asked, and Murdina nodded.

“Aye, but I have nae wished to say anythin’–I know what a worry it would have been,” she said, as Kin stared at her in disbelief.

“You were ill, and you did not tell me?” he asked, his eyes growing wide and frightened.

“I did nae want to worry ye–tis’ only a pain, it will pass,” she said, even as she was uncertain of her own words.

“A pain like this will nae pass, mistress–but it will have a happy endin’ to it,” the woman said, and Murdina looked at her in surprise.

“What dae ye mean?” she asked, and the old woman smiled.

“Ye are with child, mistress. Ye are showin’ so a little even now,” she said, and she approached the bed and laid her hand gently on Murdina’s stomach.

“A… a baby?” Murdina exclaimed, and the woman nodded.

“Aye, a bonnie heir for the laird,” she said, stepping back with a smile and glancing at Kin, who looked on in amazement.

“We are to have a baby? An heir? A son?” he exclaimed.

“Or a daughter–a daughter who will be just as worthy as a son,” Murdina replied, raising her eyebrows.

There was much congratulations from the clansmen, and with the fear of Murdina’s mysterious pain resolved, they filed out of the room, leaving Murdina and Kin alone.

“I wish you had told me you were suffering,” he said, coming to kneel at her side and taking her by the hand.

“Ye would only have worried. Besides, I have only felt it a few times. But today… it was worse, I shall admit that,” she said.

“Then you must rest until the day comes. I will hear no protest on your part. You must rest and suffer no excitement,” he said, but Murdina only laughed.

“Am I to be kept in a golden cage? I am nae that kind of woman, Kin, and ye know that well enough,” she said.

He sighed and shook his head, smiling at her as he raised her hand to his lips.

“The legacy will live on; the cause will have an heir. Yer father will be so pleased,” he said.

“And we shall be so pleased, too. Shall we nae? We have come through so much together, and now… to bring a child into the world together. Tis’ only right,” she said, and he nodded.

“What will we call it?” he asked, and Murdina laughed.

“Wait until tis’ born, Kin, but… well, there are two names I can think of even now–Aoife for a girl, and Gilroy for a boy. If this child is to be the legacy we desire, then those seem fittin’ names for one who has much to live up to,” she said.

“They are perfect–just as ye are perfect, Murdina,” he said, and he put his arms around her and kissed her.

Murdina lay back and closed her eyes, grateful for all that had been and all that was to be. This child would be her legacy, the legacy of her and Kin. Theirs was a love forged through hardship, adventure, and strife, and as she thought of the child to be born, she wondered what their life would see and what adventures they would have.

“We have so much to look forward to, Kin,” she whispered as he looked up at her and smiled.

“Another adventure to come,” he replied as their lips met in a kiss.

The End

The battle of Culloden in April 1746 saw the decisive end to the Jacobite rebellion, though even today, there remain those who believe the rightful heir to the English and Scottish thrones is a direct descendant of the Stuart line–the myth of the pretender lives on!

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The noise inside Kindrochit Castle was deafening.

It was as if every soul within was so full of joy that they couldn’t keep from crying out. Laughter, friendly chatter, whoops of joy, all this filled the air like a blessed chorus. The time had finally come! Davinia had taken to her chambers to give birth to twins. It was only a few hours past sunrise when she had stirred Kadrick from sleep, her deep blue eyes wide with surprise and pain. The early rays of the sun had begun to stream into the windows, illuminating the stones of their beloved home. Soon the snows would come again, but today the sun was bright and the sky a vivid blue.

In the highest part of the Laird’s tower, Kadrick Macinroy watched with excited amusement as his wife paced back and forth across her chamber floor, her hands perched on her hips. This was not her first battle, and she seemed more a seasoned general now than she had been with little Eelidh.

“Da!”

Speaking of the girl, Kadrick heard her little voice from the doorway, where she was struggling with her Nurse to try and gain entry.

“Da! Da!”

Their eldest daughter was two now and just as headstrong as her beautiful mother. When Eelidh was born, Kadrick had been gripped with abject fear, but Davinia had taken to childbed like a fish to water. Eelidh’s birth had been quick and clean, and there had been almost no complications. The Laird of Kindrochit had wept tears of joy as he held his wife and newborn daughter in his arms, thankful to God that they had come through their travails unharmed. It seemed so long ago now that he’d stood in this very room, desperate for entry, just to watch the life drain from Annot’s eyes. Now he walked over to his daughter and cradled her in his arms. She squirmed and cried out.

“Where is Mama? Where is?”

Eelidh had inherited her mother’s dark hair and blue eyes, but her face reminded him of Lorna when she was a wee bairn. She was a sweet child and bright as well. Kadrick was very proud of her and spent hours wandering the castle with her dangling from his arms.

“Mama is very busy today, child. Hush now.”

Lorna entered the room and planted a kiss on her niece’s head. Though she hadn’t been present at Eelidh’s birth, she’d insisted on coming to Cairnwell for this second labor, as this time Davinia was pregnant with twins. The whole pregnancy had been easy, just like with Eelidh. Still, neither of them could forget what had happened to Annot that fateful night, and neither was willing to take any chances. Even though Lorna herself was a few months pregnant with her first child, she’d made the journey and would stay with them for a few weeks after the birth if Davinia needed her.

Davinia had been nervous this time around, as her own birth had been too much for her late mother. Though she had not suffered giving birth to Eelidh, she had still spent many sleepless nights thinking about what might happen if anything went wrong. They’d talked about what he would do if anything happened to her, though Kadrick had been loath to have that conversation. Now that he’d spent these few years with Davinia by his side, the Laird of clan Macinroy could not imagine any sort of life without her. He shook the thoughts from his head and smiled at his younger sister.

“She is impatient to have it done.”

At just that moment, Davinia let out what could only be described as a snarl. Her eyes were alight with fire, and she paused in her pacing, leaning forward to rest her hands on her thighs.

“I think it’s time!”

Lorna rushed forward, and Kadrick passed Eelidh back to the nurse. The girl started crying, but Kadrick couldn’t focus on her right now. She would be fine once she saw that Davinia was alright. Davinia had to be alright. He, Lorna, and the village midwife helped Davinia to the bed. Kadrick could see sweat beading on her brow, and he watched in wonder as her giant belly rose into the air. She’d grown great with child very quickly, and they had suspected early on there might be two babes within her womb.

“Kadrick.”

He met her eyes, and she smiled, but then her face grew serious again.

“Remember what you promised me.”

In the time since Eelidh’s birth, they’d often talked of their own parents, and how they saw many things differently now they were parents. It had been hard for Davinia to come to terms with the fact that her mother’s death might have led her father to resent his own children. She cared so profoundly for Eelidh that she could never imagine subjecting her to such treatment, no matter the circumstances. But they had helped each other heal and promised never to repeat the mistakes their parents might have made in the past.

“Don’t speak of such things, woman. Ye’ll come through this just as well as the last time.”

He surged with pride, remembering how bravely she’d faced her first time in childbed. She was the strongest, most amazing woman he’d ever known. Nothing would take her from him. God would never allow it. The happy life they’d begun to build here would not end in blood and grief. He felt it in his soul. They’d both seen enough pain to last a lifetime. Their happy days had only just begun.

Davinia took a deep breath, and the smile was back.

“Do ye think they’ll both be girls then?”

They laughed together for a moment, as they’d often joked about how they hoped to have a castle full of girls so they would have to name one heir. She’d worried at Eelidh’s birth that her inability to give him a son might have upset Kadrick, but nothing could be further from the truth. As long as she was the woman bearing his children, he didn’t care if they were girls or boys. As long as they were theirs.

“More than likely. We all see how Eelidh drives you to distraction. If God has any sense of humor, he’ll send us two more.”

She stared up at him with love in her eyes, and he leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of her scent. He noticed her flinch in pain as he rose, and Lorna stepped forward, placing a wet cloth on her brow.

“Drink this.”

Davinia obeyed and drank the little vial that Lorna offered. Her face wrinkled at the taste of it, but she swallowed it with no issue. After a moment, she leaned back on the pillows, and Kadrick noticed her body begin to relax, though she was still flinching in pain every few moments.

“We’re close now, back up, brother.”

He obeyed as well, though Kadrick was loath to leave her side. The world seemed to slow down as he heard Davinia cry out, and he felt his head spin as the midwife hurried over, placing herself between his wife’s legs. He tried to steady himself. Though labor had begun, it might be hours yet before-”

“I see a head!”

Lorna looked shocked, and Kadrick heard Davinia let out a roar, her hands gripping the bedclothes and her whole body shaking with the effort.

“Push Davinia! Push now!”

Davinia grunted and braced herself. Kadrick went to her side and gripped her hand.

“It’s too fast! It’s happening too fast!”

Her breath was starting to come in short spurts, but Kadrick shook his head and stroked her face, making soothing sounds to calm her nerves.

“Hush now, no, now. They are eager to meet us, that is all, do not fear.”

That seemed to harden her resolve, and he felt his heart swell with love as she bore down to make another attempt. He felt her grip his hand with a surprisingly strong, strong enough to almost hurt. That had to be a good sign. His woman was a fighter through and through.

“Ah!” the Lady of Kindrochit cried out and gave one last valiant push before falling back onto the pillows.

After a second, Kadrick heard the shrill cries of his child fill the room, blending in with Davinia’s panting. He turned to her and then to Lorna.

“Davinia come, ye must rally! Push again!”

Davinia took another breath to rest, and then she was back up off the pillows, bearing down for another assault. Kadrick couldn’t help but smile. She was no wilting flower. She would fight till her last breath.

“Ye can do it. I love ye Davinia, come, finish this quickly now.”

She rolled her eyes at him, and he laughed again, but then his smile fell as her face contorted with pain. Lorna sucked in a breath, and he felt dread fill his belly. He didn’t even have time to ask about the first babe when he heard the midwife call out.

“Brace yerself, my Lady, I’ll have to turn the babe.”

He didn’t know much about childbirth, but Kadrick knew that meant the second babe was flipped upside down in the womb with its feet facing outward. He watched in a panic as the midwife reached inside Davinia to turn the baby on its head. Davinia screamed, and he leaned down, placing his mouth near her ear.

“I am here. I am with ye. I’ll never leave yer side.”

Kadrick wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw her nod, even as she was experiencing this agony. He hoped his words gave her strength. He needed her; he could not lose her now.

“Now, my Lady! Push! Push!”

She did push, and when he heard the second cry and felt her fall back onto the bed in exhaustion, Kadrick felt tears begin to roll down his cheeks. Only then did he turn to Lorna, who was now standing before him with a bundle in her arms. Behind her, the maids were busy cleaning the other squalling baby.

“The first was a boy,” Lorna said softly.

“And the second!” the midwife cried out from between Davinia’s legs, where she was packing his wife’s womb. “Two healthy, bonny boys! Praise the Virgin!”

Kadrick heard Davinia laugh from the bed and reached out to Lorna. He was in awe as he gently took the little bundle from his sister. As with Eelidh, he was amazed that something so small and delicate could exist. It was half of him now resting in his arms, little eyes wide and a perfect mouth curling up in a confused smile. He watched as the midwife brought the other boy to Davinia’s side, resting him in his mother’s arms.

“What are we to name them?” she looked up to him, her eyes low with fatigue but her smile beaming with joy. “One shall be Angus, of course.”

Kadrick felt his heart constrict with gratitude and love. His wife was going to be fine; his children were healthy; his family was safe.

“And the other Thorkel.” He lifted his first-born son in his arms. “Our sons.”

“Our sons,” Davinia repeated, staring up at Kadrick with devotion evident in her tired eyes.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. It opened, and Kadrick’s new general walked in.

“Yes, Gawain?” Kadrick asked softly so as not to startle little Thorkel, whose eyes were now slowly closing. “What news?”

Gawain smiled at the scene before him, but then his face sobered.

“Scouts have seen storm clouds on the horizon. A winter wind blows in quickly from the east.”

Kadrick looked down at Davinia and then at Lorna. He knew that they would never be able to truly wash away the memories of that fateful winter storm, but this was a new day. All of them would survive because when they were together, nothing was impossible.

“Fear not,” Kadrick said softly. “There is no storm we cannot weather; all will be well.”

For the first time in his life, after everything he had experienced, Kadrick truly believed the words that he spoke. He feared no storm without and no storm within, not when they had their love and their family to keep them safe and warm.

Kindrochit would stand, and they would stand within it, all of them, bound safely together in any season, through any raging storm.

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Arianna and Fergus had moved to the MacAllistair castle a few months later, their plans to rebuild the clan a clearer picture than when they had first spoken of it. They had begun by rebuilding the castle’s fortifications and recalling the clan members who had fled after Scott had taken over the castle. Many of their men and woman had left the safety of their homes because of his treachery; they had chosen a life of fear and constant running instead of bowing to his rule.

It had both warmed and broken Arianna’s heart to think of her people running away from their homes – their loyalty to her and her father was astounding, and they had flocked back when the news began to spread that Laird Ranulf’s daughter was returning to claim her birthright.

When they rode through the streets leading up to the castle, it was to find them strewn with flowers and wreaths; Arianna’s people lined the sides of the street, calling out their gratitude and blessings upon her and Fergus.

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she smiled at her people, her clan; the joy she saw reflected in their faces was all she needed to see. Arianna was home, and that was as it should be.

These were her people, and this was her clan. It had not been a senseless battle after all – these people had waited for her to return, and she was grateful that Fergus had made sure that she could and would do so.

The weeks passed far too quickly, in Arianna’s mind, as they rebuilt everything they possibly could. The tides turned, and the weeks turned into months, as time inexorably wore on.

She found Fergus training Elijah in the training fields alongside the barracks; the boy was coming along well. He had decided that he wanted to be trained properly by Fergus after their ordeal; while the young man was still averse to any form of violence, he had stated that he wanted to be able to protect himself – and Molly, of course.

Fergus had been all too willing to oblige the young man, who had agreed to take up residence with them at the MacAllistair castle. While Laird Alec was alive, there was no need for Fergus to be at the McGill castle all the time; until they had managed to merge the two clans together, both had agreed that it would be best for Fergus to spend his time with the MacAllistairs. It would help them coexist in the future if they could see their new Laird and Lady living amongst them and could feel and see the protection that the union of the two clans would offer them.

The MacAllistairs could be hard-headed, as could any Highlander, but they needed to see that joining the two clans would only benefit them.

Arianna stood against the railing, watching Fergus train Elijah in swordsmanship, smiling at the two men as they jousted and jested with each other. When they were finally done, Fergus quickly made his way to her side, gathering her in his arms.

“What say ye, Arianna McGill?” he asked, breathless as he kissed her lightly on the lips.

“Yer going tae be a father, Fergus McGill,” she smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling with mirth and bliss.

“Nae,” he said, disbelief warring with excitement on his face.

“Aye,” she nodded, laughing as Fergus lifted her up to spin her around in his joy – their joy.

“It truly is a union o’ the McGills an’ MacAllistairs, is it not?” he laughed when he finally put her down gently.

“It is.”

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Kaleb’s life had changed so much in such a short time that sometimes, he still struggled to believe it. There were days when he woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, fearing that Ralph would attack his clan before he remembered that his brother was dead, and other nights when his dreams were filled with images of that battle in the forest when Ralph had died.  

 But most nights were nothing like that. Most nights, he fell asleep next to Guinevere, and he held her for hours, her presence so calming that he dreamt of nothing at all.  

 He didn’t remember a time in his life when he had been happier. Every time he gazed at Guinevere, she took his breath away and put a smile on his lips, even when she was only sitting there, doing nothing. Kaleb couldn’t get enough of her. Even Andrew had difficulty dragging him to meetings with the Elders, as Kaleb was so determined to be by her side at all times.  

 But Andrew had managed to take him to one of the meetings, after all, and Kaleb had spent hour after hour listening to the Elders when there was little to talk about. Their clan wasn’t in danger anymore, after all. They were prospering, and so in his mind, most of those meetings were unnecessary. 

 When he escaped his study, Kaleb tracked Guinevere down and found her in the gardens, where the two of them had shared their first intimate moments. He remembered that night vividly, as though it were yesterday, and he had half a mind to recreate that night as he walked to her, placing a hand on the small of her back. 

 Guinevere didn’t seem to have noticed him coming, and she jumped, startled until she realized that it was him. Then, she smiled at him, leaning into his arms. 

 “Are ye done with yer meetin’?” she asked. “Ye were gone only for a short time, but I still missed ye.” 

 “Aye, I’m all done for noo,” Kaleb said, leaning down to press a sweet kiss on her lips. “I’m sorry that ye had to wait for me for so long. I didna ken that I would spend so many hours with the Elders.” 

 “It’s alright,” Guinevere reassured him. “I ken that ye’re a busy man.” 

 “Never too busy for ye,” Kaleb said. “Tell me, how has yer day been? What do ye wish to do today?” 

 “Weel . . . I did have somethin’ to tell ye,” Guinevere said, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth in that way that made Kaleb go wild with lust. “And this is the perfect time to tell ye.” 

 “What is it?” 

 “I’m pregnant, Kaleb,” she said, her hand coming to rest on her stomach. “Ye’ll be a faither.” 

 Kaleb’s eyes fell to Guinevere’s stomach. He had noticed a small change in her, as well, as though she had started glowing all of a sudden, more beautiful and radiant than ever before.  

 “A bairn,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, the tremor in it clear. “We’ll have a bairn?” 

 “Aye. Aye, we will.” 

 Kaleb could have fainted. He would have if he didn’t think that it was undignified for a Laird to faint from excitement in the middle of the gardens. He made his way to the nearest bench on unsteady legs and sat down, Guinevere perching herself right next to him. 

 “Are ye happy?” she asked. 

 “Happy?” Kaleb echoed. Did happy even begin to describe what he was feeling? Was there any word at all that could express his joy at the news? “Of course, I’m happy, Golden. Ye’ve made me the happiest man in the world.” 

 He wanted to ask her so many questions. He wanted to ask her when she had found out if she knew how far along she was, impatient as he was to meet the new member of their family but judging by the fact that there was no swell on her belly quite yet, he figured that she had only recently found out. He didn’t want to bombard her with questions, not just yet. He wanted the two of them to simply enjoy that moment for as long as they could.  

 “I have more good news,” Guinevere said then, but Kaleb could hardly focus on her words. No news could be better than what she had just shared with him. “Andrew has asked for Beth’s hand in marriage.” 

 “He has?” Kaleb asked, surprised. Sure, he had had a conversation with Andrew about it, giving him his permission to marry Beth, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. 

 “Aye,” Guinevere said. “Beth told me this mornin’. And just as I thought, they’re both verra happy about it.” 

 Kaleb huffed out a short laugh. Guinevere liked to be right, and of course, she often was. He, too, was happy for Andrew. For the longest time, Kaleb hadn’t believed in marriage after Ava’s betrayal, but Andrew always preached about how every man should have a capable woman by his side, and there were few women as capable as Beth.  

 “It’s a good match,” he said. “I suppose noo we’ll have to have another feast.” 

 “Hopefully, this time, we willna leave as early,” Guinevere teased, and Kaleb knew precisely what she was talking about. He hadn’t been the only one eager to get to their chambers, though, at their own feast, as far as he remembered. 

 Kaleb responded to Guinevere’s teasing by grabbing her by the waist and giving her a twirl, which seemed to delight her. Then, he decided that it was time to give her some of his own news. 

 “Since ye made me so happy and gave me such a precious gift, I have a gift to give to ye, too,” he said. “Do ye wish to ken what it is?” 

  *** 

 “A gift?” Guinevere said, startled. What kind of gift could Kaleb have for her? “What is it?” 

 “Tristan,” Kaleb said. “He’s comin’ home.” 

 It was a good thing that Guinevere was standing close to the bench, she thought as she sat down. Otherwise, she would have collapsed right there and then. The news was such a big shock that her strength left her, her hands trembling as she clutched onto Kaleb’s shirt. 

 “He is?” she asked, breathless. “He really is?” 

 “He’s on his way as we speak,” Kaleb said, giving her a soft smile. “He’ll be here by the end of the week.” 

 “And he’s weel?” 

 “I willna lie to ye,” Kaleb said. “The Sassenachs were anythin’ but kind to him, but me men say that he’s already recoverin’. There shouldna be any lastin’ damage.” 

 Guinevere wasn’t so certain about that. Even if his physical wounds would heal, there was no telling what had happened to his mind and his soul. But no matter how long it would take, she would be by his side, and she would help him through it all.  

 “Nimue . . . have ye told her?” Guinevere asked. “Have ye sent word to them?” 

 “Na yet,” Kaleb said. “I wanted ye to hear it first. I only just heard of it meself.” 

 Guinevere wanted to write to Nimue and their father immediately. They would both be so happy to know that Tristan was finally coming back after weeks of knowing he was still alive. That had come as a shock to them all when they had first found out, and since then, they had been expecting his arrival anxiously. 

 “I’ll go write to her immediately,” she said, extricating herself from Kaleb’s arms, which had found their way around her once more. “Ach, Kaleb, ye’ve made me so happy! Thank ye. I canna wait to see him.” 

 “And I canna wait to meet him,” Kaleb said. 

 With one last smile, Guinevere rushed back into the castle. She hunched over a piece of paper, furiously scribbling onto it, and sent a messenger to Nimue immediately, with the orders that he was to rush as much as possible.  

 For the rest of the day, nothing could wipe the smile off Guinevere’s lips. She could think about nothing else but the moment when she would see Tristan again, and she hoped that the rest of her family would accept her invitation to visit again so that they could all be together for a while. 

 That night, Guinevere slid into bed next to Kaleb, drawn to his arms like a moth to the flame. She kissed him, trying to pour into that one kiss all the love and gratitude that she had for him, and when they parted, she couldn’t stop gazing into his eyes.  

 How could anyone ever think that this man is anythin’ but kind? His eyes . . . his eyes show it. 

 Kaleb’s hand came to rest on her stomach, and Guinevere smiled at him, her own hand laying on top of his. She couldn’t wait for the moment when she would feel the baby move, but she knew that it was far too early for that. Nimue had told her that it would still take a while. 

 Her sister had been the second person to know that she was pregnant. The first had been Beth, who had also pointed it out to her in the first place. And Kaleb had been the third, as she had been trying to come up with a way to make the announcement special before she realized that she didn’t have to do anything for it to be perfect.  

 With a sigh, Guinevere closed her eyes, the smile never fading from her lips. And as she let sleep fall over her, she knew that from that moment on, she would only be happier and happier. 

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