Extended Epilogues

Three Years Later, The Isle of Mull, Summer, 1561

“Will ye miss the Campbell Castle?” Luthais asked as he and Valora saw the boats at Ardtornish.

“I will nae miss it so badly. We shall return in the spring. Tis’ nice to have two homes, but I prefer Mull for the winter. I like to watch the storms rollin’ in off the sea,” Valora replied, climbing down from Ailean’s back as they came to the harbourside.

A boat was waiting for them, and the same fisherman who had first sailed them to Mull all those years ago came to greet them. Valora and Luthais had spent the summer months at the Campbell castle. As Valora had said, it was a second home to them, and it was Luthais who held the honour of being its master. Much had happened in the intervening years, but peace, at last, had come, and the two clans – Martins and Campbells – lived together in peace.

“Ye and yer storms. I still cannae understand why ye like to watch them as ye dae,” Luthais replied, smiling at Valora, who laughed.

“Tis’ the power of them. They remind me I am but a tiny creature amid a magnificent world,” she replied.

Just then, a voice called out behind them, and Valora turned to see their three-year-old son stumbling towards them, closely pursued by his wetnurse.

“Oh, the lad is too much. He leapt down from the horse, mistress, right out of my arms,” the woman said, hurrying to catch the boy running straight towards his father.

“Ah, the lad is just excited, Mistress Macguire. He is happy to see his home. Is that nae right, Callum?” Luthais said, jumping down from his horse and scooping the boy up in his arms.

Callum was a boisterous child, with a shock of blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He tilted his head to one side, playing with Luthais’ beard, as Valora came to take him in her arms.

“Did ye run away from Mistress Macguire? Ye are a naughty thing, bless ye,” she said, and Luthais handed Callum to her as he directed the soldiers accompanying them to board the waiting boats.

“If we sail now, we shall make Mull before nightfall. I hope we shall find my father has the hearths laid and a feast awaitin’ us. The journey has been long, and I am ready to sleep in my own bed,” he said.

It took half an hour or so to load the boats, and the landlord of “The Mermaid’s Rest” brought them refreshment whilst they waited. It was late autumn, and the trees on the island were turning every shade of red and yellow. Valora was eager to get home, for the journey had tired her, and she, too, was yearning for her own bed, having spent the past few months on heather and forest floor.

“Are we goin’ home, mother?” Callum asked, gazing up at Valora with wide, questioning eyes, and Valora nodded.

“Aye, we soon will, and yer grandfather will be there to greet us,” she said, sitting with him on her lap as the men prepared the boats.

As they boarded, a fair breeze was blowing across the bay, and the horses were taken on a larger boat, steered by the soldiers. Valora, Luthais, Callum, and the wet nurse sailed with the fisherman, and they made good headway across the waters, coming in sight of the cove an hour or so after leaving port.

“Tis’ a fine sight,” Luthais said, glancing at Valora, who nodded.

The jetty had long since been repaired, and several dwellings were built around the cove, where some boats were moored for the fisherman. The path up the cliffside had been greatly improved so that a horse and cart might easily take any visitors to the island as far as the castle and the settlements surrounding it.

“Will we see ye on the mainland before the winter, Laird?” the fisherman asked as they made landfall a short while later.

Luthais shook his head.

“I like my island, and tis’ here where my true responsibilities lie. We are pleased here, and the mainland is filled with other folk’s troubles. I feel a weight off my shoulders when I sail across the bay and put in here,” he said, stepping onto the jetty and helping Valora and the others onto dry land.

The watchmen spotted the boats, and a horse and cart stood waiting for them. Raderoin drove it, and he hailed them as he came to greet them.

“Welcome home, Laird. I trust yer journey was a happy one?” he said as Callum ran to greet him.

“Aye, but tis’ good to be back here. What news have ye? Is my father well?” Luthais said.

“Very well, and our news is as it always is – we are left alone, and the outside world doesnae trouble us,” Raderoin replied.

He helped them with their belongings and the boat carrying the soldiers and horses now put in so that the whole party could ride together up the cliffside track towards the castle. Much had changed since the first time Valora and Luthais had set foot on the island. Trees had been cleared, and the cobbled path leading through the forest had been repaired and made wider. It led into a village, where crofts and workshops had been built around a central square. The chapel where they had been married was repaired, and its bells rang out each day for the services there. But which the castle had seen the most dramatic change, and as they approached, Valora could not help but marvel afresh at all they had achieved.

“I never tire of seein’ it,” she said, gazing up at the castle gates, which stood open to welcome them.

Once the trees and ivy had grown up all around, the walls now stood tall and proud.

The moat had been refilled, and a new bridge led across. The gates opened up into the courtyard, where stables, workshops, and storerooms were built along the walls. The tiled cobbles, with their mosaics, had been repaired, and the banners of the clan fluttered from the turrets above. It was a magnificent sight, and Valora smiled to gaze at all they had achieved.

“Tis’ good to be home, and look, there is a familiar face to greet us,” Luthais replied, pointing to the steps leading up to the keep.

Alastaire was waiting for them, and Callum clapped his hands together in delight at the sight of his grandfather coming towards them.

“I was goin’ to meet ye at the cove, but ye have made a strong headwind and arrived before even I could saddle a horse,” he said, as Callum leapt out of Mistress Macguire’s arms and flung himself on his grandfather.

“I rode the whole way myself,” he said, and Alastaire laughed.

“All the way from the Campbell castle? Ye are a brave lad, Callum,” he said, glancing at the long-suffering wet nurse with a smile.

“We have much to tell ye, father. But for now, are the fires lit and a hearty meal prepared?” Luthais asked, and his father nodded.

“Aye, we have been expectin’ ye these days gone by. Come inside and share yer stories. What news of Leighton? Did ye break yer journey at Culmor?” he asked as he led them inside.

There was much exchange of news. Valora and Luthais had spent two days with Leighton, and they had brought his greetings with them to Mull. The great hall – now restored and painted with beautiful murals – was filled with clansmen, all of them eager to hear of their laird’s adventures on the mainland.

“Tis’ quite a welcome ye have prepared for us, father,” Luthais said, taking his place at the head of the table.

Valora sat down next to him, feeling a sense of fatigue come over her, even as the feasting began.

“Mother, I want to stay,” Callum said, his tone whining and irritable, as Mistress Macguire tried to take him away.

“But ye are tired, Master Callum. Tis’ time for ye to rest,” the wet nurse replied.

“Let him stay a moment. He is…” Valora began, but she suddenly felt terribly light-headed, and she clutched at Luthais, who turned to her with concern.

“Valora? Are ye all right?” he asked, and she nodded as Alastaire rushed to bring her something to drink.

“I just feel… a little tired, tis’ all,” she said, but she knew something was wrong.

“Come now; we shall take ye to bed. Ye have ridden many miles today and endured the crossin’ on the waters. Tis’ nay wonder ye are tired,” Luthais said, his face etched with concern.

Valora was helped up to their chambers, and she felt a sense of relief at being in her bed. A fire was kindled, and Esme was summoned to tend to her. Callum was put to bed, but Valora insisted on staying at her side.

“Some herbal tea to soothe ye, mistress,” Esme said, appearing a few moments with a steaming cup on a tray.

Valora smiled weakly. The ride from the Campbell castle had been exhilarating, and she and Luthais had raced together across the moorlands. But that day, something had changed, and she felt weak and feverish. She was grateful for the warmth of the fire and for the tea, which brought with it a sense of calm and relief.

“I shall keep vigil tonight; I shall nae rest,” Luthais said, his hand clasped in hers.

“Tis’ nay need, Luthais. Ye will get nae sleep if ye dae,” she replied, not wishing to cause him trouble.

But she knew he would insist on staying. He looked at her with concern and shook his head.

“We must find out what is wrong with ye,” he said, but Esme now stepped forward and smiled.

“But dae ye nae realise what is wrong with the mistress?” she asked, and both Valora and Luthais looked at her in surprise.

“What dae ye mean? She is sick. We must summon a healer from the mainland. I shall sail across the waters myself tomorrow and bring the finest in all of Scotland,” Luthais exclaimed, but Esme only laughed.

“Ye daenae need a healer, my laird. Tis’ simple enough to know what is wrong. The mistress is with child,” she said, and Valora gasped.

“How… how dae ye know?” she asked, and Esme smiled.

“Think back to yer firstborn. Ye lay here in just the same way and complained of just the same ailments. I have been a midwife to enough women to know the signs. Ye are to have a baby, mistress. There is nothin’ to worry about,” she said, and Valora breathed a sigh of relief.

In the back of her mind, she had wondered about the possibility of being with child. Esme was right, the signs were the same, and Valora now took hold of Luthais’ hand and smiled.

“Ye see, there was nothin’ to worry about,” she said, and he shook his head.

“I am sorry, I just… the thought of losin’ ye, tis’ too much to bear,” he said, but she shook her head.

“I am stronger than ye think,” she replied.

Esme left them, and Valora closed her eyes as Luthais lay next to her on the bed. He put his arms around her and kissed her on the neck.

“I love ye so much, Valora. And to bring another child into the world tis’ the greatest blessin’ I could imagine,” he whispered.

She ran her fingers through his hair, her eyes still closed, as she imagined all that was to come. This was the family they had dreamed of, the legacy they had desired. The future would be very different from the past, a future in which only happiness lay ahead.

“We are blessed,” she replied, as he placed a gentle kiss on her lips, and together, they looked forward to all that was to come and gave thanks for all that had been and all that had brought them together.

The End.

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Ever since Camden was a tiny lad, he’d always adored the coming of autumn to Strome Castle. Though the sun shone high above, there was a crispness to the air as the leaves on trees began to change. They would shed all their emerald finery and cover themselves in flaming reds, golds, and oranges.

Though he was meant to be checking ledgers and reports in his study, he couldn’t help but glance out the window every few moments at the magnificent view below. Summer was gone for the year, and it was time to start bringing in the harvest and preparing for winter. There were various figures and reports about the scheduled harvests for Ardaneaskan, Slum Bay, and even Lochcarron.

Each year, all three villages were tasked with providing a portion of their harvest to Strome castle, but Camden had cut that tithe in half for all his people this year. He wanted to begin his Lairdship fairly and justly. He thought it would signal to all the souls under his rule that he did not intend to squeeze them for every penny they had. Strome and clan Haggan were more prosperous than ever. There was no reason to bleed his people dry.

He heard Rory’s footsteps before he entered, and when his general knocked, Camden called for him to enter. He stood up from his desk and gestured for Rory to approach.

“Good afternoon, my laird. If yer busy I could return; its nothing too urgent.”

Camden shrugged and gestured towards his desk.

“Not too busy. I have a few missives to write, but they can wait for now.”

Rory nodded and smiled.

“A laird’s work is never done. Harvest season is usually a busy one, but if anyone can handle the extra duties it’s ye sire.”

There was clear pride in Rory’s gaze and Camden felt gratitude flood him. Many people helped him keep Strome up and running, but Rory was his backbone and his right hand. Camden could think of no man he trusted half as much as Rory, nor anyone whose opinion he admired more.

“Speaking of extra duties, I came to tell ye that young Arran has been spending his spare time with some of our soldiers in the barrack’s training grounds.”

Camden cocked his head to the side. Arran had been working in the castle smithy and sometimes he would serve as one of Camden’s grooms, but he had no idea the lad had an interest in the martial arts. Rory continued with his revelation.

“I think he found a real joy in combat after that scrimmage with the Reraig outlaws. He might be scrawny, but he’s got a long reach, and he’s determined to learn how to yield a blade like a real warrior.”

It was true that Arran played a major part in helping to find and capture the band of outlaws who’d been plaguing Reraig forest and the surrounding areas of late. Emily had taken advantage of the proliferation of bandits and thieves in his lands, but Camden had worked hard to see those scoundrels driven out once and for all.

“So, does he have any skill?”

The two men shared a knowing smile between them and Rory chuckled. Plenty of lads dreamed of becoming warriors and finding glory in battle, but many quickly learned that the reality of training with seasoned warriors was very different than youthful dreams.

“I will admit I was skeptical at first, but I think with time he could become a formidable fighter and an asset to our clan.”

Camden thought back to the night Bonnie saved his life from Emily’s hired fiends. Arran had shown bravery then, just as he did when he guided Rory’s battalion to the outlaw hideaway in Reraig forest.

“Well then, maybe we should find him a bed in the barracks. I have enough grooms; we could always use another capable warrior in our ranks.”

They were both silent for a moment, and Camden wondered if Rory was thinking about Bearnard as well. His former challenger would spend the rest of his days below deck, rowing oars in darkness for his crimes. A few of their best warriors had died at the hands of the Reraig brigands as well and it was true, they needed new recruits to fill those voids in their clan.

Rory stayed for a little longer, but he had duties just like Camden. When the older man was gone, Camden gathered his papers and put them away in his desk drawer. He thought about Bonnie and where she might be. When he rose that morning, his wife had already left their chambers to start her day. They usually spent the morning together, breaking their fast and talking about the day to come.

He didn’t think she had any reason to be upset with him, but Camden wanted to make sure everything was alright. So the laird left his study and headed downstairs. He would try Muira’s rooms first because Bonnie spent the lion’s share of her time there. Muira was healthier and more vibrant than Camden had ever seen her, and he could tell that seeing her thrive brought Bonnie immense comfort.

Camden found Muira reading a book by the fireplace in a wide-backed wooden chair. She smiled warmly when he entered and set it aside.

“Well hello, my laird!”

He approached her and placed a gentle kiss on Muira’s cheek.

“Good day to ye, Muira. How are ye?”

She gave a little stretch and gestured towards the sunlight streaming through her window.

“Autumn is upon us, and it is my favorite season, my dear boy. I am blessed beyond measure.”

Bonnie had shared with him how almost all the signs of Muira’s lingering illness were gone now. She was hopeful that they would not return, and though Camden was no healer, he believed that Muira was free from her symptoms once and for all.

“Aye, tis a beautiful season indeed. And the harvest will be upon us soon to fill up our larders for the winter.”

Muira’s smile spread, and Camden noticed a mischievous look in her eyes.

“So what brings ye here this afternoon then? Bonnie says ye’ve been very busy with yer lairdly duties as of late. I’m sure ye haven’t come just to gossip with old Muira.”

Camden felt a little fissure of guilt and did his best to push it aside. He loved visiting with Muira, but she was right; he didn’t have much time these days to sit and talk with her like he often wanted to.

“Forgive me, Muira. I did stop by in search of Bonnie. Have ye seen her today?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“Aye, she came to see me when I was breaking my fast. I believe she said there was work to be done in the stillroom today, so I would guess that’s where ye can find her.”

That had been Camden’s second destination, followed by the library. Bonnie had spent the past few months making the stillroom her own and using it as a headquarters for her healing practice. From that stillroom, Bonnie oversaw the health and wellbeing of everyone within Strome castle, and she did it with ease.

“I hate to leave so swiftly, but I must find her so I can get back to my duties. But what if the three of us sup together here tonight?”

Muira agreed to have them both back for the evening meal, and Camden gave her another kiss on the cheek. When he pulled away, she grabbed his sleeve and stopped him. Camden saw that same mischievous look in her eyes again.

“When ye find her, be wary of her mood. She is a tinge melancholy today. But I’m sure ye will know just what to say to cheer her up.”

Camden wanted to ask why Muira thought Bonnie was feeling melancholy, but he thought better of it. The look in Muira’s eye told him that she wanted Camden to go see for himself. So he bid her farewell and headed towards the stillroom and Bonnie.

He didn’t spot Bonnie right away when he entered the stillroom doors. Then he heard glass shattering in the distance, and then Bonnie cried out in frustration. Camden rushed through the room towards the small closet in the rear. Sure enough, he found Bonnie within. She was kneeling on the floor, sweeping up broken glass. Tears were misting in her eyes, and she shook her head back and forth. She didn’t even notice that Camden had approached the closet.

“Bonnie, are ye alright?”

She seemed startled by the sound of his voice, but her shoulders relaxed when she realized it was Camden. Then the tears began to roll down her cheeks.

“No, no, I’ve made a mess of everything! Everything!”

He was concerned by her heightened emotional state. Clearly, there was something wrong beyond the broken glass on the floor. Camden knelt before her until they were eye level. He took her hands in his, and they were shaking.

“Darling, it is only some broken glass. Tell me now, what ails ye? It must be something else.”

Bonnie wiped the tears from her cheeks with one shaking hand. She nodded and took his hands again as if she needed strength to speak aloud.

“I have been looking around the stillroom all day, and I found no trace of mugwort, nor any shepherd’s purse. I looked through the herb garden as well and found not a sprig of either!”

He felt her whole body begin to shake and Camden started to worry about her mental state. He didn’t know much about herblore, but he knew that both things she was looking for were plants used in herbal medicines.

“Sh, sh, dinnae fret Bonnie, all is well. They’re only herbs; we can get ye some more, perhaps down in the village. What do ye need mugwort and shepherd’s purse for so urgently my love?”

Bonnie looked up at him, and though the tears no longer filled her eyes, he could see that she was preoccupied with something and that she was reluctant to tell him.

“Come now, ye know that ye can tell me anything. Whatever it is, we can face it together.”

She nodded and then let him help her back to her feet. He held her close for a moment and felt her breathing begin to regulate. He could feel her heart beating wildly, and Camden could not fathom what might have happened to make her so upset.

“They are herbs to aid women in childbirth. Shepherd’s purse is used to stay excess bleeding of the womb. Mugwort eases labor pains and cleanses the womb once the birthing is done.”

Camden tried to think of any women in the castle who were expecting who might need such herbs. He could not think of any.

“Who needs these herbs? Is it a woman in the village?”

He leaned back to see the look on her face. Bonnie shook her head and then took a deep breath. She did not meet his eyes.

“It is I who needs them. At least I will need them when my time comes.”

At first, Camden’s mind couldn’t comprehend her response. Of course, she needed the herbs as Strome’s healer. But then his own heart began to beat faster in his chest. What did she mean by when her time came?

 “Bonnie, are ye telling me that yer with child?”

Her eyes filled with tears again, and her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“I am not sure, but I haven’t had my courses for three moons now. The signs are all there, but I cannot be sure. How can I be sure?”

Camden could feel the frantic energy building inside her again, so he pulled her close to him and began to stroke her hair. If she was pregnant, it might explain some of these erratic emotions plaguing her now.

“Does Muira know?” Camden’s voice was mildly amused.

“Aye, I told her of my suspicions this morning.” If Bonnie noticed his amusement, she didn’t make it known. Instead, she burrowed her face into his chest as if to hide from the world around them.

This explained the mischievous glint in the old woman’s eyes earlier. She knew that Bonnie was feeling melancholy and sent Camden in to make her feel better. He smiled and kissed the top of his wife’s head.

“I’m so sorry, my love.”

Bonnie pushed away so that she could see his face. Her confused expression made him want to kiss her rosebud lips, but he restrained himself.

“Why are ye sorry? Ye’ve done nothing wrong, I-”

“I have been so wrapped up in my own duties, I dinnae notice until this morning that something might be amiss with ye.”

She shook her head and then raised one of his palms to her lips. She kissed the skin there, and then he reached out to caress her face. His thumb gently traced the soft skin of her jawline and her neck, staring down into her eyes as he’d done so many times before.

His wife’s eyes, and now the eyes of his child’s mother. The realization of her confession suddenly hit him. If she were pregnant, then Camden would be a father in half a year’s time. If she was pregnant, then they would be blessed with a child by the spring. He could potentially be a father by the time the buds returned to the trees.

“It is not yer fault, Camden. I dinnae know why I am so frightened. I have seen hundreds of infants come into this world, and I have never once been afraid…but now…”

Her voice trailed off, and Camden turned towards the door. He took Bonnie’s hand in his and pulled her through it back into the stillroom and the autumn sunlight.

“I cannae say for certain, being a mere man, but I believe that even midwives are permitted to feel some fear and nervousness when their own time comes. Ye musn’t be so hard on yerself wife.”

Bonnie nodded, but Camden could still see the concern in her eyes.

“Other than ye and Muira, no one knows. If I am with a child, it is still early yet. I am not even showing yet.”

Instinctively, Camden reached out and touched her stomach. It was still flat, but there was some hardness there now, just beneath the surface, that he hadn’t noticed before. Bonnie placed her hand over his own and then looked up into his face.

“Do ye think we’ll be good parents, Camden?”

So that was it then? He smiled and pulled her close again, and held her face between both his hands. He kissed her soft and slow and then pressed his forehead to hers. He closed his eyes, and a contented smile spread across his face.

“Whatever parents we are, I know that this child will never search for love or protection from either of us. Only time will tell what mistakes we might make raising a child of our own, but we will provide a loving family for this bairn no matter what happens. Mark my words.”

Finally, her face seemed to relax.

“Do ye promise?”

The last time Camden made a promise, it had been to his dying brother. When Camden swore to Evan that he would wed and sire an heir as soon as possible, he never could have imagined that he would find his true love in Ardaneaskan that very night.

But no matter how unorthodox their journey had been, it was all worth it. They would have each other for the rest of their lives and this new life growing in her belly would carry on their love after they were long gone.

“I swear it. I swear on my life.”

She took a deep breath and laid her head on his chest in silence. But Camden didn’t mind. They didn’t need any more words to explain their love for each other. They were family, soul mates, and soon they would be parents. If there ever had been a curse laid upon his house, Bonnie’s coming had surely banished it to the four winds forevermore.

Never was there a man with more blessings to be thankful for in all of Scotland, of that Camden was now convinced.

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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.”

If you want to stay updated on my next book, and want to know about secret deals, please click the button below!

If you haven’t already, please leave your review on Amazon

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