Extended Epilogues

Four years later

Lorna was shaking her head, hunched forward, hands over her waist, trying to catch her breath. “He’s got a big ol’ mind o’ his own,” she said.

“Hmm, interesting,” said Arran beside her; his eyes laughing. “One could say he reminds me o’ a certain ferocious woman that I know.”

Lorna arched her eyebrows to the sky. “Don’t you dare,” she warned.

Arran threw up his hands in feigned innocence. “Merely an observation,” he protested.

Lorna glared at him. “I’ve no idea who that might be,” she insisted.

“Oh, I’ll give ye a clue alright.” He leaned into her and he looped his arm around her waist; pulling her against him. He dropped his mouth to her ear. “I married her,” he said.

Lorna shivered in response to her husband’s touch. They had been married for nearly four years. One would think that time would have dulled her desire or that it would have faded completely, but time had had the opposite effect on her. Her husband could still make her swoon, melt her body, and make her legs tremble for him with a single touch. She wished she could lean into him, bury her head in the crook of his neck, open her mouth to him and let him kiss her senseless.

But there were far more urgent matters to attend.

Chief of which was the taming of the ferocious little boy running ahead of them; tugging on the fabrics that danced over the tops of the nearby stalls, snatching up gloves dangling from stands, grasping for anything and everything, like a fiery bundle of chaos.

Before the shop owners even got the chance to marvel at his boisterousness or shake their heads and laugh at the little boy’s speed and agility – he had run on to the next interest, picking up fruits from baskets and loaves from tables, squealing and giggling heartily all the while.

Lorna untangled from her embrace with her husband. She was shaking her head. Bruce was a delightful handful but he was a handful alright.

“He’s back at it again,” she said. Arran followed her gaze to the little boy bouncing down the street. Shaking his head at her, he laughed, at her. He was enjoying this.

“Nae less than we’re used tae.”

“He’s making trouble.”

“He’s getting tae know his future subjects,” Arran teased.

“He’s snatching up their apples and toys!”

“Out o’ love,” Arran drawled; trying and failing to contain his amusement. His face was ablaze with laughter. “This is love.”

“Easy tae say when it’s nae ye running after him,” she said. “I suppose we ought tae be grateful that the vendors take it in their stride. I dinnae think I’d have the ability tae be as patient as them.”

Arran’s eyes were shining bright with humor but his tone was reassuring. “Oh, yer people love him,” he said to Lorna. He was right, of course.

Each time they had journeyed to the markets in her father’s domain, Bruce had made a spectacle; stopping to speak to anyone who cared to listen to a little boy’s rambling, to watch him skidding down the street clothed in the finest garments a little laird could dream of — and the journeys had been beyond counting.

The vendors and shopkeepers cooed and doted upon him and if he did not stop by their stalls to snatch up something, they almost looked disappointed. Some of them even had their baskets ready and waiting for him, and said, “Anything that pleases yer eye, my laird?” and, “Have at it, my laird!” when he stopped by.

“Yes! This one!” Bruce would say; picking up a miniature horse or an apple or a potato, or a sword cut from wood, and the merchants would exchange amused glances before shaking their heads and laughing.

Lorna rolled her eyes and sighed. “Off I go, yet again,” she said. Her voice revealed her exhaustion but she could not deny a small part of her enjoyed these little journeys through her home.

Arran lifted his hand in playful cheer. “I believe in ye,” he said. She made a face at him, then gathered her gown and ran after Bruce.

She raced after her son, steadying and catching her breath as she reached him. She looped her arms around him, gathering him to her side. He had found his way to the front of a silverware shop and had been smacking a silver spoon against the merchant’s steel table; as if testing its fortitude and strength.

“Forgive us, kind sir” said Lorna as she pulled her son away.

The merchant failed to hide his disappointment as Bruce put his spoon away, albeit reluctantly. “Please, dinnae apologize,” he said, laughing. “Always an honor tae have the young laird visit our streets and judge our goods,” he joked.

Lorna shook her head and laughed. “Certainly one way tae put it,” she said to the merchant then turned to her son. “Let’s go, Bruce. Come on. Up ahead.”

Bruce was already shaking his head, the strong-minded little animal. “Nae, Mama. Nae, I want the spoon.”

“Well, ye cannae have it. I mean it, Bruce.”

“Sure he can,” said the old merchant. He caught himself and then added in a more reverent tone, “That is if ye dinnae mind, my lady.”

Lorna sighed. Oh, well. He had picked many “souvenirs”, as they liked to call them, from all the other stands in their time, and the vendors been more than happy to relinquish their goods. What was one more silver spoon to add to his collection?

The merchant lifted the spoon from his table and handed it to Bruce, who snatched it like a precious little thing, and was already running ahead before Lorna could get her words out. “Bruce! Say thank ye!”

She returned to the merchant, still shaking her head. “I’m so sorry. Thank ye, sir.”

He waved away her gratitude. “Please,” he said. “What greater honor than tae tell people that our good laird’s heir is my most favorite customer?” He laughed and Lorna eased up a little; laughing along.

An arm came over her waist and she turned to see that her husband had caught up to them; pulling her close and kissing her cheek.

“Evening, my laird,” said the old man; bowing a little.

“Evening, good sir. I see my son has bestowed you his patronage,” said Arran, laughing.

“The very best customer, my laird.” The man laughed too.

Arran shook his hand and poured some coins in his palm. The man looked down and gushed his gratitude. “Thank ye, my laird, thank ye, sir.”

It was Arran’s turn to dismiss his gratitude with a wave. “Please. It is the least I can do for the chaos our little Bruce wreaks in these streets.”

“Oh no, sir, we look forward tae it,” the merchant assured him; smiling as he pocketed his money.

“We encourage it,” added a female vendor selling fabric beside him and the other merchants who’d been watching and listening laughed and shook their heads.

“Tis the least we can give back tae a laird who protects and supports his people thus so,” another merchant in the crowd added, and there were murmurs of approval as they laughed and nodded.

Lorna also smiled. Perhaps she had worried for nothing after all, and Bruce’s antics were all in good humor – not that she would start encouraging Bruce but she resolved to leave him alone for the time being. The sight of him running around the flea market, grabbing toys and goods and striking up conversations with the most unlikely of people had turned out to be a blessing for the shopkeepers. They loved him because they loved his father – almost as much as she loved her husband and son.

Lorna turned from the elderly merchant but first she waved him and the rest of them goodbye. “Have a fine journey ahead, milady,” said the merchants.

“Please bring our future laird back soon,” they added as they called after her.

Lorna laughed at that. As if she could possibly hold Bruce back from having his way!

“Oh, he’ll be back,” Arran assured them; a small smile lingering on the corner of his mouth.

They continued walking, past shops filled with swirling gowns and merchants shouting out the prices of their wares. Bruce continued to grab and seize whatever was in his path, while his father continued to dip his hand into his pocket and pay each merchant for each good snatched up and stolen. They laughed and said thank you.

Lorna sighed as she watched everything. It was a happy, satisfied sigh, the only kind she’d let out since starting a family with the man she loved.

Ahead of them, a group of vendors and villagers alike were huddled around the boy as he regaled them with stories about his newest chest of toys, his grandfather’s last birthday, and his favorite uncle Douglas.

Lorna watched her son spread his arms wide, making a face and gesturing as he entertained his audience and they broke into laughter. She realized she was laughing too. “He’s a delight,” she said dreamily.

“When he’s nae being a tyrant,” said Arran as he followed her gaze.

“That we can agree on,” she said and he laughed. “Mischievous like the brither he’s named after,” he added and she smiled. Arran’s eyes were smiling too.

She enjoyed hearing his voice free of pain and anguish as he spoke of his brother. He’d let time and new love heal his broken heart. He’d made it this far and her heart swelled in her chest as she realized her husband had overcome the greatest pain of his life.

She had never loved him more. She added softly, “Strong and handsome, like ye.”

“Beautiful and stubborn, like ye,” he said.

Lorna feigned affront. “Excuse me, sir. I am the softest, meekest little maiden ye’ll ever come across, thank ye very much.”

Arran shook his head at her. “With a very strong mind o’ his own, like ye too,” he added. “His younger brothers and sisters will definitely have an example tae follow.”

“If they’re nae already a larger handful than their big brither,” said Lorna.

“Well, now there’s only one way tae find out,” he replied as he clasped his hand over the small of her back.

She shivered and while she already knew what he was going to say – she asked anyway, “And what would that be?”

“We make more bairns,” he whispered against her cheek and she laughed.

She laughed because she felt lighthearted and joyful. She laughed because it was the perfect time to tell him that she was with child.

She had yet to confirm it with the surgeon but the signs were all there, as they had been with Bruce: the early morning dizziness, the inability to keep a meal down one moment and the overwhelming urge to devour anything she could lay her eyes on the next. She could have delivered the happy news to her gorgeous husband right then, at that moment…

But she decided not to. She would wait until they were in the castle, until they were all alone in their chambers. She would lay down beside him and plant his hand on her bare belly, and she would look in his eyes and say, “I’ve got a little something for ye.”

Then, she would watch him shake with enthused laughter as he lowered his mouth and kissed her belly; kissed her all over.

For now, Lorna leaned into him as they walked side by side. He held her so tightly but tenderly too. He kissed her ear, her cheek. She turned her mouth to him and, despite all the onlookers, she let him kiss her like his kiss was the only thing that mattered in the world.

It was as pure and overwhelming as the first time he had held her and claimed her as his own.

It was as pure and overwhelming as she knew it would always be.

The End.

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Five years later

“It’s hard tae believe that it was seven years ago that yer father and brother were killed,” Edmund’s mother said as she stared in front of them.

Edmund stood at the gravesite of his beloved family. His mother and wife stood next to him.

“Aye, it looks well. The flowers have grown just as I hoped they would. Father would be happy about the way his gravesite looks, up on a hill with a soft breeze blowing. It is a beautiful summer’s eve.”

“Aye,” Doreen agreed, leaning against his shoulder. Edmund kissed the top of her head, thanking God once again that he had brought Doreen Rose into his life. He couldn’t imagine a day without her, and the last five years as heads of the MacVarish Clan had been bliss itself.

“Well, shall we go inside and enjoy the feast in their memory? The whole clan will be coming tae celebrate, and Murdoch has been busy helping tae prepare,” Edmund smiled.

Two years before, Murdoch had become his new father-in-law. While it was a surprise in many ways, Edmund was happy that his mother had found happiness again. And he’d realized that there was always something about how Murdoch looked at his mother. Now that he thought about it, he was surprised that he’d never noticed it. He was happy to have a whole family again.

“The poor old man. We shall go tae help him, will we nae, Doreen?” They turned to go, and Edward wrapped his arm about his wife.

“I would be happy tae, but he seemed insistent to handle things. I think he wants tae pay homage tae yer family in this way. Each year I try tae offer me assistance, but he turns me away, telling me that I must enjoy meself.” Doreen shook her head, laughing, and his mother smiled.

“I think you’re right, lass. It is so very kind of him, but he does put himself under so much pressure tae pay that homage. I think he still feels guilty that he wasnae there that day. He wishes that he could have suffered as the other men had suffered.”

“Nae, nae,” Edmund replied, walking back down the long, winding, dirt path to the Castle. “I wish he wouldnae feel so. I have tried tae talk about it with him many times. He did what he needed tae do, staying at the castle, protecting it, and protecting the young soldiers who were far too inexperienced tae fight in full battle.”

Doreen grew quiet, and he knew that she was thinking about how her family and Lord Johnson had played a role in all this. “Peace is now ours, and it is time tae put all guilt behind us,” he whispered, and she nodded.

“Aye, true enough,” his mother said. “Ye are kind tae say so.” She squeezed his arm.

“I am a blessed mother tae have such a son, and I hope that ye two will have children who are just as wonderful.”

MacVarish Castle was in the distance, and when Edmund looked up at it, he took a breath. Even though he’d now been laird for five years in body, it still felt like yesterday when he’d returned from prison with his few men who’d survived, and he’d planned his revenge. He could never get enough of looking at his home and feeling the pride that came with it. This was his land to rule and his people to help. Doreen was now a part of that, and together they had begun to make a new life without any darkness surrounding them.

Things were in a slight frenzy back in the castle as servants moved through the rooms and the hall, setting up tables, restocking hearths, sweeping dusty corners, and putting flowers in vases. The scent of meat and bread in the air came from the kitchens below.

The three of them stood in the doorway to the hall, looking out over the activity. “It will be wonderful, as it is each year,” he said to his mother.

She thanked him and left to find Murdoch, who was now doubt busy instructing servants to do things just as he wanted them done.

Doreen put his hand around his waist. “I hope me father will arrive in time. He must have had some trouble for him tae be this late.” She frowned.

“Nae, I think he doesnae want tae intrude. He came this late last year. What of Oliver and Fiona? I forgot tae ask ye. Will they be joining us?”

“Aye, but nae tonight. It wasnae possible for them tae leave so early. But they will travel soon tae feast with us in a day or so.” She took his hand and squeezed it, looking up into his eyes.

His eyes moved over her familiar and bonny face. It had been five years, and yet she looked the same to him as when he first laid eyes on her through the window at Rose Castle. She was still beautiful, fierce and full of a fire that was never quenched.

“How do ye feel about this? Celebrating yer father and brother and all the men who lost their lives year after year? I ken that ye smile and laugh and enjoy yerself, but I want ye tae be honest with me.” She turned her head to the side and waited.

It was a wonderful thing about marriage. He felt finally that he had someone with whom he could bare his soul. Even though he’d been brought up to fight and to protect his clan, Doreen had encouraged him to be more honest about his feelings.

“I am well, me love,” he said, chucking a finger under her chin. “It gets easier with each passing year, and I think it gives me the chance tae let out me grief just a little bit more. I want tae keep honoring them and keep their memory in people’s minds. I think it would be far worse tae do nothing and let people forget about them and what they meant tae our lives.”

She nodded and took his hand up to her mouth, kissing it. “Ye are a wonderful husband, ye ken?” Slowly, she took his hand and put it on her stomach. “And ye will make a wonderful father too.”

Edmund blinked at her for a few seconds, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. “Ye mean…?” he said in a low voice, afraid to get his hopes up only to have them be dashed again. There had been some trouble for Doreen to conceive, but now all his hopes were being realized.

“Aye,” she said, nodding with a bright smile.

“Thank God!” he cried, and he lifted her and spun her around, laughing as he did.

She shrieked with laughter, too, catching the attention of those in the room. He kissed her soundly on the mouth when he lowered her down , and the servants turned away. They were used to the laird and lady’s fervent displays of affection.

He cradled her face in his hands, and he saw tears in her bright, green eyes. “A child at long last. May I announce it tonight at the feast? It will be another great honor tae me father and brother.”

“Aye, ye may. I waited until I was very certain tae tell ye so that there will likely nae be another disappointment.”

He sighed with happiness and put both hands on her belly. “I love ye, Doreen.”

“And I love ye. What another exciting adventure we have ahead of us, Laird MacVarish.”

“And one I am only too happy tae take with ye, Lady MacVarish.” They giggled like children and left to go ready themselves for the feast.

***

Doreen felt thoughtful once she was at the feast, surrounded by the clan members.

Sometimes, she found it difficult to be the lady of a clan. She had been a laird’s daughter and Lady Johnson, but this was different somehow. Maybe because now, she was the wife of a man she truly loved and a lady of a people she truly cared for. There was more pressure, and more people were looking to her to do the best thing.

But at the same time, it was so freeing. Doreen was her own woman, and she could do as she pleased; no one restricted her. Clan MacVarish had a healer, but she also helped with the healer’s work whenever she could, and she tried to learn more and more as the years went on so that she could gain new skills.

Edmund had begun to teach her to fight after he was finally healed from the battle with Norman five years before, and she was now well-skilled with the sword and was a fine archer. It gave her the confidence and strength she’d been seeking for so long, and even though these were times of general peace, she still felt better that she would not be left feeling helpless if another battle came to their doorstep.

And then there was Edmund. He was the perfect, loving husband she’d hoped for. He was everything she could ever have asked for from above, the complete opposite of Lord Johnson. Each day was better than the last, and now she and he were soon to have a child. She felt nervous about the announcement as she sat beside Edmund at the head table at the feast. His hand was in hers, giving her comfort before he stood up and raised his glass.

The clan in their finest dress went silent. The musicians quieted, and she turned to look at her father sitting beside her. He smiled and patted her arm. He had grown far older in the past five years, more so than expected, and she was glad that he would be there to hear the announcement of the child’s arrival.

“Clan MacVarish, ye have been through difficult times, but today is a day for celebration. We are here tae celebrate the former Laird MacVarish and his son, me brother, Robert. Lift yer glasses tae them and those brave men who lost their lives that day in the battle against the English!”

“Hear, hear!” they called, lifting their glasses in the air and then drinking to honor them.

“But there is more,” Edmund said, a bright, joyful tone in his voice. He turned to look lovingly at Doreen. “There will be another tae join this clan in a few months, another member tae join Clan MacVarish!”

The crowd cheered, and she could hear her father’s happy shout next to her.

“Congratulations, me daughter. Ye have waited a long while for this,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.

“Thank ye, Father,” she said, smiling at him and then at Edmund’s mother, who had tears in her eyes.

“Enjoy yerselves,” Edmund said. “For ye deserve it, and there is much tae be happy for this day!”

When he sat down, the music and festivity continued. He leaned closer to Doreen. “Did I do well?” he asked.

“Quite well,” she said, touching her hand lovingly to his cheek. “Ye have made everyone so happy.”

“And ye have made me happy, as ye always do,” he answered, pulling her hand from his cheek to place a kiss on her palm.

Two hours later, Edmund and Doreen stole away to the castle’s battlements once they’d had enough of the cheer and frivolity. She wore a woolen tartan to keep out the slight chill, and Edmund walked alongside her. To replace the secret stargazing place she would miss at Rose Castle, Edmund had built them one of their own, and so now, no guards could see them as they took a little stroll in their secret spot.

He looked up. “Beautiful night,” he said.

“Aye, always a beautiful night when I am here with you.”

He pulled her close as he leaned against the balustrade. She could feel the heat in his body and knew what he wanted. Wrapping her arms about him, her tartan fell to the ground. She kissed him, and he kissed her back, their passion coming to a frenzy in mere seconds.

“I want ye, me lass,” he said in her ear as he kissed down her neck. “I have been waiting tae steal away from the party so that we could be together. But may I make love tae ye here.”

“Aye,” she said breathless, pulling him back against the taller wall and began to pull up her skirts. “Here and now.”

He grinned. “I can never get tired of this, Doreen. Ye wanting me as much as I want ye.” He paused and frowned. “I willnae hurt the baby?”

“Trust me as a healer, Edmund,” she said. “Ye will nae hurt the baby.”

He untied his trousers and hoisted her legs up around his waist, filling her in just a few moments. They had done it so often that their bodies knew each other and knew how to find where to join. She held tight to his shoulders as he began to move inside her, his hands on her buttocks as he guided himself in.

“Edmund,” she said, whispering his name like a prayer as he thrust deeply, stroking her center. “I am yers,” she said, feeling her pleasure coming faster than expected.

His mouth moved from her mouth to her jaw to her neck, unable to be satisfied with her taste. “And I am yers,” he said, quickening his pace as she tensed her thighs about his waist and came to her climax, stars behind her eyes calling out his name.

He came soon after, spilling into her. They gripped one another as their pleasure calmed, and he stared into her eyes. “I donnae ken what I would have done without ye, lass,” he said softly.

He kissed her gently on the lips and slowly let her feet drop. Her skirts fell back down around her ankles, and he held her tight. It was a good thing, for her legs still felt like jelly.

“Aye, ye wouldnae have such a hidden-away space with stars and lovemaking,” she said, moving her hands up to clasp around his neck.

“True, what a shame that would be.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, but they both heard the booted footsteps of one of the soldiers on patrol on the higher part of the battlements. It brought him back to reality. “I suppose we should return. People will want tae continue tae congratulate us.”

“Aye. It is our duty,” she said, nodding. They were about to leave when she pulled him back and kissed him. “I hope we willnae give this up, this wanting of each other so desperately we cannae wait. I ken that a child could change that.”

He laughed. “Nae child could change me wanting ye, Doreen. It will mean things are busier, but that means I will only have tae work harder tae find places tae make love tae ye. I will never stop wanting that.”

Comforted by his promise, she embraced him and said, “Nor I. I shall hold ye tae that.”

“Good. I will heartily fulfill me end of that vow.” With a smile, she tucked her arm through his, and they let their secret place to return to the feast.

The End.

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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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