Extended Epilogues

Seventeen years later

Muriel sat in the drawing room with Caitriona next to her. Even after the eighteen years that had passed since they attended school together in Edinburgh, they had never stopped writing to each other. She visited her when she could, and Caitriona did the same, sometimes alone and sometimes with their families. Muriel preferred the latter. She could spend a lot more time with her friend when she didn’t have to worry about everyone at home and when her friend didn’t have to do the same.

Caitriona’s children, only two years younger than her own, and her husband were there as well this time which meant Muriel could finally have her for a couple of months before she had to return home. Her visits were always a delight, not only for her but also for everyone around her. They loved to hear about all the trouble she used to get herself into when they were still at school.

“They have grown a lot, have they nae?” Caitriona asked, looking at her two children. Next to them sat Anna, Ron and Amelia’s daughter, and Muriel’s own two children. They were all in the drawing-room, the young ones talking animatedly by a large window that overlooked the back of the castle, bathed in golden sunlight.

Muriel remembered Anna as a small child, and now she was a young woman, as beautiful as her mother. Her own children had grown up and were almost adults. Ron had inherited her strawberry blonde hair, whereas Ailis had inherited her father’s dark onyx hair.

They had also inherited her and Liam’s stubbornness. It was the one thing Muriel didn’t want them to have, but nature had her own plans.

“They really have,” Muriel said; sipping on her tea. “The years flew by.”

She wondered how long she would have with them before they each created their own lives for themselves. Anna would marry soon, she thought, and Ailis would do the same not long after. Ron was already a strong warrior, even though the last thing that Muriel wanted for him was to fight.

She wanted her children to have long, happy lives. The mere thought of something happening to Ron because someone else expected him to fight was unbearable.

At least it had been a long time since the McAlpine clan had had any sort of conflict. They lived in times of peace, and Muriel hoped that it would be the only thing her children would ever know.

“Do ye remember when we were their age?” Caitriona asked. “We were wee devils.”

“Och aye,” Muriel said; hiding a laugh behind her hand. “It’s me biggest fear sometimes, that they’ll act like we did.”

She remembered all the mischief, all the rebellion, the sleepless nights she and Caitriona spent together. She remembered the trouble she used to get into with her tutors – all the wine that they had drunk when they shouldn’t have.

“At least Ailis and Ron dinnae seem as naughty as we were,” she added with a shrug. “As far as I ken, they dinnae behave like us.”

“As far as ye ken,” Caitriona said. “Nae one kent all the trouble we got into back then.”

Muriel had to admit that was true. They had managed to get away with a lot.

“But we didnae live at home,” she pointed out. “I’m certain that me maither would have kent immediately if she were there.”

“Och aye, that is true,” Caitriona said. “I suppose that’s a relief. I havenae caught mine doin’ anything verra naughty so far.”

Muriel wondered what she would do if Ailis fell in love with a mercenary and tried to run away with him while putting herself in danger – willing to throw herself into a fight to save the one she loved. She wondered what she would do if Ron did everything Liam had, sneaking into keeps and risking his life for a woman he barely knew.

She would be afraid for them, that much was certain. But she liked to think that she would also be proud of them for standing up for the ones they loved.

She would rather have children as foolish as she and Liam had once been than children who were cruel or too scared to fight for what they believed in.

“What are ye two whisperin’ about?”

Liam’s voice startled her who hadn’t heard him sneaking up. She jumped, almost spilling her tea over herself, and shot him an unimpressed look.

“When will ye stop walkin’ like a cat?” she asked and couldn’t help but smile as he leaned down to kiss her softly. Even after all the years they had spent together, Liam never stopped being sweet to her, just as sweet as when they were newlyweds.

Muriel couldn’t have imagined a better life for herself. Liam had given her everything she had ever wanted and everything she never knew she wanted. He had given her their two children. He had given her all his love.

“When ye stop jumpin’ when I scare ye,” he teased; perching himself on the couch next to her. “Caitriona, yer husband is terrible at huntin’. I’m never goin’ with him again. He didnae let me drink a single drop of wine.”

“I think that’s what makes him good at huntin’, Liam,” Caitriona said with a shrug. “What’s the tally?”

“Three geese for him, one for me,” Liam admitted. “To be fair, I truly think I’m better when I have some alcohol in me. He must ken that. That’s why he doesnae let me drink.”

“Aye, I’m sure that’s it,” Caitriona said with a chuckle.

“Next time, I’ll take wee Ron with us,” Liam said. “It’s time he goes on his first hunt.”

“I doubt he would want that,” Muriel said. Though he was a skilled fighter, she didn’t think he had it in him to kill an animal for anything other than survival. The boy was obsessed with them growing up, going so far as to sneak into the stables whenever no one kept a close eye on him. He had even raised and trained his own horse by himself and would not be separated from it. The horse wouldn’t let another rider on the saddle, and Ron would always refuse to ride another horse.

“Weel, he can do the drinkin’, then,” Liam said – earning a gentle shove from Muriel. “What? He’s a grown lad!”

“He’s a bairn,” Muriel said even though, at seventeen, that wasn’t true anymore. It hadn’t been true for a long time.

“Aye, aye, alright,” Liam said, giving in. “He’s a wee bairn.”

Muriel hoped that Ron hadn’t heard any of that. He hated it when people treated him like a child, though few still did. It was the same for Ailis. The two of them always insisted that they were grown.

Muriel supposed it was the same for her when she was their age. She remembered thinking that she knew everything when, in fact, knew nothing.

“It all turned out fine, didnae it?” she asked quietly, mostly talking to herself. “Even after everythin’ we went through. It’s been so long; it hardly seems real.”

Muriel would recall those weeks in her youth when she thought her entire life was over every now and then. She tried to avoid thinking about Macleod and her father, but it was at times like this that she remembered them. Her kids had never met their grandfather. She’d never seen him again, and she’d never learned what had happened to her stepsister. News about her clan would occasionally reach her , but she let Liam handle the majority of it. She didn’t want to deal with anything until the time came. She guessed it wouldn’t be long before her father died, but she had no idea what would happen then. The McNeil family would require a laird, and perhaps the duty would fall on Liam’s shoulders.

The only question she had was about Hextilda’s fate. She’d wanted to know if her father had punished her for what she’d done if he even cared. When she found out he hadn’t, it didn’t surprise her , but it did sting. Hextilda had hoped that her father would avenge her, as much as she expected it because she came from a powerful family.

Muriel reasoned that she was only hurting herself by seeking proof that her father loved her. It wasn’t long before she stopped inquiring about her family.

Ach weel… he’s still young. He can handle it.

Muriel looked at him in the early morning light. His once-black hair had turned grey at the temples, and he had wrinkles around his eyes. Even with his grey hair, he was the most handsome man she had ever seen; the lines around his eyes were a testament to all the times he had smiled in his life.

She, too, had changed, her hair gradually greying and her skin becoming a little more weathered. She still felt like a child at times, as if she was stumbling through life, unsure of what to do.

But she always had Liam by her side to provide her with a helping hand.

Muriel spent the rest of the day with Caitriona, the two of them riding their horses to the lake nearby. By the time they returned, dinner was ready and their families joined at the table. When they were all together, it was always chaos, with their children laughing and joking and the adults shouting over each other as the wine flowed, but Muriel wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

She stayed up late, as she used to when her friend was around, the two of them talking well into the night. When she finally retired to her chambers, Muriel was expecting to find Liam asleep, but he was wide awake, going through a stack of papers.

“Are ye bringin’ work to the bedchambers noo?” she asked with a fond yet exasperated sigh. For all the resistance Liam had put up when Ron had asked him to be his advisor, he sure took his position more seriously than anyone else in the castle.

“Weel, I wanted to finish it tonight,” he said with a small shrug. “But noo that ye’re here, I cannae focus on work.”

As he spoke, he placed the stack of papers on the bedside table and then pulled the covers back – gesturing at Muriel to join him. She undressed first, taking her sweet time only because she knew just how impatient Liam could get, and after she brushed her hair, she joined him, letting him pull her close.

“Did ye ever think we’d have everythin’ we have today?” she asked, her voice low as her hand came to rest on Liam’s chest.

“Hm… what have ye been thinkin’ about?” Liam asked instead of answering. He knew her so well; he could always tell when her mood changed and when there was something on her mind.

“Caitriona and I were talkin’ about the bairns, and it made me think of everythin’ we went through when we were young like them,” Muriel said with a small shrug.

“I kent that I would do anythin’ to keep ye happy,” Liam said. “And that was enough for me.”

Liam cupped Muriel’s cheek; bringing her face closer to press their lips together in a sweet kiss. He knew exactly how to kiss her to make her shiver, and he hummed happily at her reaction. Muriel felt like a teenager again every time their lips met, flustered by all the attention.

“Ron and Amelia are already lookin’ for a husband for Anna,” Liam said after a short pause. “Perhaps we should do the same for Ailis. And find a wife for wee Ron.”

Muriel sat up at that; pinning Liam with her best, most terrifying glare. “We will do nae such thing,” she said. “All three of them are perfectly capable of findin’ a spouse on their own. I willnae force any of them to marry someone they dinnae want. Ye should ken better than that. Ron and Amelia should ken better than that.”

Liam raised his hands in surrender; giving Muriel a placating smile that she had come to know well throughout the years. “Pretend I didnae say anythin’,” he said. “Though they will hardly find husbands and wives if we dinnae arrange for them to meet other people.”

Muriel supposed Liam had a point there. “Fine,” she said. “But we will allow them to choose as they please. If they please. They are still verra young. I willnae marry them off so soon.”

“Weel… as they please within reason,” Liam said. “I willnae let me, daughter—”
“Liam,” Muriel warned – interrupting him. “May I remind ye that nae one approved of ye for me?”

“That is verra different,” Liam said. “I wasnae a bad man.”

“I’m sure ye willnae like anyone,” Muriel said with a knowing smile. “Nae one is good enough for Ailis and Anna, isnae that right?”

“Och aye, of course,” Liam said while laughing and shaking his head. “I see… I suppose ye may be right. As ye always are.”

“Ye’ll do weel to listen to me,” Muriel said; her expression softening as she lay back down, letting Liam embrace her once more – her previous agitation dissipating. The two of them fell into a comfortable silence and it wasn’t long after that Muriel began to hear Liam’s soft snores. It made her chuckle, the way he could fall asleep so fast these days, though she knew he was exhausted from all the work he had to do around the castle, simply because he didn’t trust anyone but himself and Ron to do it right.

“I love ye, Liam,” Muriel whispered against his neck, closing her own eyes.

“I’ll love ye forever.”

The End.

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Five Years Later

“Aindreas, ye daenae need to be overprotective,” Hayden called with a laugh as he looked up from the river to where Aindreas was standing with the horses.

Aindreas seemed to stifle his own laugh as he peered over the horses’ saddles.
“Aye, take yer own advice, Hayden.” He pointed down at the young boy who was clinging onto Hayden’s hand.

Try as he might, the boy couldn’t get to the river, for Hayden held too tightly onto his hand.

“Pa!” the boy exclaimed with annoyance, thrusting his booted feet into the riverbank beneath him in anger.

“Daenae look at me like that, Fin,” he chuckled, bending down to his son’s level. He had named his son after the stable master, wanting the memory of a good man to go on in the castle, despite what darkness had lingered there five years ago. “The river is dangerous, and ye must respect it.” He lifted Finley into his arms, holding the boy on his hip as he turned to look at Aindreas again.

“See?” Aindreas said with lifted eyebrows. “The boy wants to play with his cousins.”

“Aye, he will,” Hayden said with a laugh, knowing the two girls were far behind him playing in the shallows of the river. “In the meantime, calm yerself, relax a little. Nay one will attack us out here.”

“I take me responsibilities seriously.”

“Ye surprise me,” Hayden said with a laugh as he turned away from Aindreas, nodding in parting. Aindreas’ decision to stay at the castle had delighted Hayden over the years. Never had he had a truer or more loyal guard to his family than Aindreas had turned out to be. The one time that Hayden had asked Aindreas about his decision to stay, the man had been surprisingly honest after having a couple of drinks.

“Havin’ a place in the world, I finally realized what it is all about. It’s about findin’ someone worth fightin’ for, isnae it?”

Hayden couldn’t agree more. As he walked across the riverbank, his son increasingly kicking up a fuss at being carried. Humored by it, Hayden still held tightly onto Fin, with his eyes shifting to the rest of his family that was gathered together.

He had brought them all to his and Brandon’s favorite place from when they were little, though they had not yet attempted to take the children across the river to the stone in the middle.

Nay, too risky.

Hayden was protective indeed of his son. Such a feat would remain for another day. He kissed his son’s forehead, pushing the fair hair to the side and making the boy wriggle in annoyance.

“Pa!” he cried again, pointing down at where his cousins were playing in the shadows. “Play.”

“Aye, aye, ye can play.” Hayden laughed and slowly lowered his son down to his feet. He didn’t let him go completely, though and followed closely behind him, watching him as he took off his boots and stepped into the water too.

Ailsa and Catriona reached toward Fin, begging him to come to play too. Ailsa was the eldest of the three, by just a couple of weeks compared to Fin, and she splashed up and down in the water, casting such water over him that the boy complained loudly, rubbing his eyes. Catriona was the youngest and barely able to stand by herself, meaning that Brandon was standing behind her, holding onto her hands and helping her to walk in the water.

“Ailsa,” Brandon said with a warning tone. At once, Ailsa stopped what she was doing and looked up at her father with innocent eyes. “Aye, ye can look at me like that all ye like, but I saw what ye did.”

“She is as mischievous as ye are,” Hayden teased his brother, just as his son took hold of his hand and pulled him into the water too.

“I think she is as mischievous as her maither and aunt,” Brandon said, nodding his head in the direction of the grass where Luna and Aurora were gathered together. They were spreading out a picnic for them all on a rug, pointing up at the sun in wonder at it making an appearance after the long winter they had endured.

Hayden smiled at the sight, his eyes resting on Luna for a few minutes longer as he clutched his son’s hand. The last few years had brought more happiness than he had thought possible in the castle. It was a joyous place to be, and with his new family, the old shadows and darkness that had walked the walls were long gone. In its place were smiles and frequently the running steps of children as they chased down the little ones after doing something naughty.

“Pa, look.” Fin pointed down into the water. Hayden caught his son under his arms and held him still when he nearly toppled over.

Aye, this is me place. I will always be here for him to stop him from fallin’.

He loved this new role in his life. With someone else to love, he had a purpose. He clutched onto his son to keep him standing as Fin traced his fingers through the water, watching as silvery fish danced back and forth.

“Fis?”

“Fish,” Hayden corrected with a smile, watching as Fin continued to trace the fish with his fingers. He tried to kick the fish at one point, prompting Hayden to pull his son back in the water.

Brandon burst out laughing at the sight, pulling Catriona away from the potential splash.

“Did ye just try to kick the fish, Fin?” Hayden said in clear reprimand. Fin smirked up at him, clearly feeling rather naughty.

“Aye, they are all as mischievous as each other,” Brandon said, still loving, as his eldest daughter began to run around him in the shallows. “Nay wonder it’s hard to keep runnin’ after them.”

I daenae mind.

Hayden lifted his eyes from Fin to look back at Luna, wondering if it was time to ask her what he so longed to say. The children had transformed his life again, just as Luna had changed it, and he found he kept wanting it to be changed.

Maybe… it is time we had another.

***

Luna smiled as she watched her son play with Hayden. The two of them together were a delight to see, making her dance her hand across her stomach, knowing that there was another life brewing there, though she had not uttered a word of it to anyone yet.

“I long for sleep, Luna,” Aurora complained dramatically as she fell back on the rug. Luna laughed and inched toward her sister’s side, pouring out a tankard of small beer for her.

“It cannae be that bad.”

“That bad?” Aurora scoffed, sitting up to take the tankard. “Wait until ye have a second. They run around at all hours of night.”

Luna tried to hide her smile, not wanting anyone else to know yet that there was indeed another on the way.

“Ye think we cannae hear yer children?” Luna said with a laugh. “We may be in a different wing of the castle, but Catriona’s voice has a habit of carryin’ very far.”

“Ye mean her cryin’ does,” Aurora said, biting her lip before sipping her beer.

“It was much the same when Ailsa was that young. I cannae wait for the day she sleeps through the night.”

“It will happen soon,” Luna assured as her sister fell on the blanket again, her eyes fluttering closed as she waited for sleep.

Luna thought it rather right not to disturb her sister again. When Aurora showed genuine signs of falling asleep, Luna lifted a second blanket she had brought with them on their picnic and laid it across her sister’s body, giving her a little warmth as she slept. When Aurora’s voice grew even, Luna turned her focus back to their husbands and children as they all played together, making the splashes in the shallows so great that they sometimes reached above Fin’s head.

For a second, Luna shifted her gaze from the son she adored so much to her husband and Brandon as they talked together. Much had changed in the years that had followed Nathair’s attack on the castle. Brandon’s lairdship went from strength to strength, and with Hayden frequently making trips to other clans to build friendships and treaties for him, the clan was certainly becoming something secure and formidable. Luna had seen firsthand how the clans’ people had prospered.

The poor were not so great in number these days, and the harvests had been good. With the comfort of a secure lairdship and friends in other clans, they had drawn more and more soldiers to their ranks, and they had never gone to battle with another clan since.

Once feared, thanks to its last laird, the Mackenzie clan was now something celebrated and admired by other clans. Together, Brandon and Hayden had done something Luna had thought impossible when she had first heard their names and believed the rumors. They had made the Mackenzie clan a true home to the people here, including her.

Fin abruptly stepped away from Hayden and reached for his cousin. Together, he and Ailsa clung onto one another and walked into the shallows, looking at the fish and pointing them out to each other. Luna could see Hayden asking Brandon to keep an eye on Fin, something he eagerly agreed to before he stepped out of the river and hurried toward her.

Luna placed a finger to her lips, urging Hayden to be quiet as she pointed down at Aurora’s sleeping form. He nodded in agreement before sitting down beside her and placing a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Ye are very protective of him,” Luna whispered with a giggle, pointing at Fin.

“That is why he fusses so much.”

“I ken, but I cannae help it. I will never let any harm come to him.” Hayden’s firm voice made her wriggle with delight, for she knew he would hold true to that vow. The day they had married, he had made vows of his own to her in the privacy of their chamber as they had made love. He had promised not only to protect her, but any child they had and any loved one that was a part of their family. The strength of his devotion was one of the reasons she loved him so much.

Aye, it is time to tell him.

“Well, soon yer attention may be somewhat divided from Fin. A little, anyway,” Luna said cryptically, watching as Hayden looked up to her with eyebrows furrowed quizzically.

“Why? Because Brandon is sendin’ me on more treaty talks? Nay. I ken it takes a few days to get to the north, but I willnae be gone that long. I’ll be back fussin’ over Fin before ye ken it.”

“That is nae what I meant,” she said slowly, watching as Hayden frowned further. She glanced down at Aurora, checking that her sister was indeed fast asleep before she lowered her lips to Hayden’s ear and whispered something to him. “We are to have another child, Hayden.”

When his lips found hers, it was so sudden that she almost fell over from where she was knelt up in the rug. She laughed as she pulled back from that kiss.

“Somethin’ tells me that made ye rather happy.”

“Rather happy? I’m delighted!” Hayden said hurriedly, kissing her again. “I was just about to come and ask ye if ye wished for another child.”

“I do, very much. Fortunately, one is already on the way.” As she laid a hand across her stomach, her eyes flitted across Ailsa as she played with Fin. Luna imagined another little girl was standing there with them. “This time, I have a feelin’ it is a girl.”

“Then our life is complete, Luna,” Hayden whispered, leaning to kiss her again.

The End.

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One year later

Olivia stared at the snow-covered trees where they met with the sky. Her eyes glazed over, and her hand routinely rubbed over her pregnant stomach. Her mind traveled far from the scenery before her. Time had moved so fast, it had been over a year since she had met Maxwell, a year that she had been married to him, and seven months since she had last seen him.

Any day. The midwife had said her bairn would be born any day, yet her husband was nowhere to be found. No, Olivia knew where he was. He was roaming the highlands with his band.

Olivia remembered when she was with him during the start of the new year, going places Olivia chose on the map. Just the both of them. They were happy that way until her father summoned them. Maxwell was needed to lead his scouts on a quest for her father. Olivia was dead set on going with them, and Maxwell had agreed.

He had snuck out of their bed without waking her and was most likely past the border of the clan by the time Olivia had woken up. He had left a  sweet note explaining the dangers of the quest and how he absolutely could not let her get hurt. Olivia had not seen him since, but she missed him terribly.

Her pregnancy was discovered only a few days after Maxwell had left, and she had written to him about it. If the letter could come to life, she would have had it bite his head off for leaving her behind. The last letter they shared was a few days ago when Maxwell’s messenger bird returned with his reply.

He was on the Scottish border and would be arriving any day, but so would their child.

Olivia blinked as something soft descended over her shoulders. Blaire had set a wool cloak over her shoulders, and Olivia immediately thanked her. “Staring at the gates will nae bring him any closer, ye ken.”

“Aye, but I keep feeling restless whenever I sit fer too long. I’d rather stand. And I was nae looking at the gates. I just thought the sky looked beautiful today.” Olivia said as she gave her stomach a small pat when she felt her child move. “He is so eager to see the world already.”

“How would ye ken if yer bairn was male?”

“I daenae ken. I just have a feeling it is a boy.” A particular chilly breeze blew into the castle, making Olivia close her eyes, shielding them from the snow. She winced after another kick, this one much stronger than the last. “Only boys are this bothersome.” Blaire laughed while tiny giggles left Olivia. Her laughing was cut short with a wince when another kick came.

Her breath left her in a loud hiss as she pressed herself against the wall, Blaire quickly by her side.

“How bad is the pain?” Blaire asked after a while; Olivia’s scrunched-up face had started to lose its red color. “Ye should be in bed, come on. Let us get ye into it to rest a bit.”

Olivia nodded, and the moment she took a step forward, she heard one of the guards from below. “Open the gate!” While Olivia couldn’t move as fast as she wished, she had to rely on her sister as Blaire poked her head through the window first.

“Olivia, they are back!” Blaire smiled and pulled Olivia closer as gently as she could to help her see to the castle ground. True to Blaire’s words, Olivia saw familiar horses throttle through the open gates. She zoned in on one person, her husband, when he rode up behind his scouts, his fur cloak almost white from the snow that had descended on it.

Olivia was ready to call out for him when she felt something trickle down her left leg. Her grip on her sister tightened, causing Blaire to look back at her. “Perhaps ye should send fer the midwife.

***

It had been five hours since Maxwell had returned. He had only seen Olivia for the first time in almost a year for a little under half an hour before she was whisked away when the midwife arrived. He had then been allowed to wait by her side for a little longer. Olivia had tears streaming down her face by the time the birthing started. She squeezed his hand so bad, Maxwell was sure it would break. Her forehead was shiny with sweat, and her voice raw from the screaming.

Maxwell was sure he did not want another child after that. Seeing the pain his wife was in, the sobbing and the screaming was enough for him to reach that decision. He wondered how his mother had given birth to three sons or how the townswomen he would see with a whole flock of children did it.

Maxwell found himself starting to panic when Olivia began to complain of having no more strength. He had seen how her eyes would roll back only for them to snap open when she was in pain. He had unknowingly snapped at one of the lassies that had come with the midwife, frustrated and on edge at the sight of his wife and her pained cries. He had been pushed out after that.

That was two hours ago, and Maxwell was ready to tear out his hair. His scouts left him be, each one recognizing the tiny tick of the vein in the middle of his forehead. He was ready to lash out, and Olivia’s cries were not helping.

The sun retired for the crescent moon to hang in the star-dotted sky. It had been roughly seven hours since Maxwell returned, six since Olivia had gone into labor. Maxwell had taken to sitting by the door, blue eyes glaring at the space ahead of him. His throat was parched, his limbs ached, and he was starting to feel the pangs of hunger, but Maxwell knew anything he put in his mouth would taste like sand.

About an hour later, Maxwell scrambled to his feet the moment a high-pitched scream came from Olivia. He was about to rip the door open when another cry came from the other side. Suddenly, voices filled the room.

“What a beauty. A bonnie lass just like her mother.” At that, Maxwell felt his whole body sag with relief, his head coming to rest on the wooden door as he blinked away the tears in his eyes. He was finally a father.

He was nae allowed to see his wife and daughter as the midwife insisted they needed to rest. It was nearing midnight when the rest of the family had settled down for a very late dinner. Olivia’s handmaid announced that his wife was awake. Her father and sister saw her first while Maxwell took the time to gather himself. He was meeting a life he created with his wife for the first time, and while it was apparent that the bairn would not remember it, Maxwell would. He would cherish that moment for the rest of his life.

When Maxwell stepped into their bedchambers where Olivia had been moved to, the first thing he saw was the tiny wool-wrapped bundle in his wife’s arms. Olivia beamed at him as he bit down on his bottom lip while willing the tears in his eyes away. “Maxwell, she has yer eyes.” Olivia waved her over, giggling as he did as told. He peered down at the bairn, who was pressed to her mother’s chest, lips parted as her chest rose and fell with every breath. She had a head of reddish blonde hair as he did. Tiny bright eyes watched him as he leaned in to press a kiss to his daughter’s head.

“She is just as beautiful as ye. Perhaps more.” Maxwell chuckled at the pout that formed on Olivia’s face before he leaned closer to capture her lips in a short, sweet kiss.

“Thank ye.” He rested his forehead against hers, noses brushing.

“What should we name her? I was expecting a lad with how much she kicked inside me.”

Maxwell’s smile fell slowly as he remembered his absence during a crucial time for his wife. “I am sorry I couldnae be there.”

“Nae, ye were fer the betterment of the clan. I can nae blame ye fer that. Ye are here now with yer daughter and I, and that is all that matters.” He hummed, not satisfied, but he would let it go fer now. Olivia looked down at their daughter. Her smile seemed to grow wider.

“I can nae believe she is here already. I can nae think of what to name her. All I have are names fer lads.”

“How about Charlotte.” Olivia paused to stare at her husband before her face broke out into another smile. One look at the bairn, and it was obvious that she took all of her father’s features, and Maxwell, in turn, had gotten all of his mother’s features. Olivia loved the idea and nodded as she gently hugged her daughter closer to her.

“Yes. Charlotte, it is. We can use the other names I have fer when we have other children.” Maxwell caught himself as he was nodding at her words. She did not see his glare as she was too engrossed with her child. They would talk about that later, but for now, Maxwell wanted to enjoy every moment he got with his family. For he had never been happier.

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Five Years Later

Brandon leaped into the pool with a splash, and Evander shrieked, swimming as fast as he could across the water as Brandon chased after him.

“Mother, the monster, the monster,” he cried out, as Brandon caught him and tossed him up in the air so that he fell back int the water with a shriek, laughing so much that he swallowed a great mouthful of water, emerging spluttering as Brandon pulled him back to the bank.

“Ye need to learn to swim fast, Evander. Otherwise, the monster will always catch ye,” Marion said, smiling, as Evander pulled himself out of the water and rolled onto his back.

The sun was shining down through the trees above, the water in the pool sparkling, crystal clear, and deep blue, where the waterfall gushed down from the rocks. Marion and Brandon had come to spend the day in the canyon with Evander and his brother, Gregory—named in honor of Brandon’s old mentor who had passed away four seasons prior—who, at only four years old, was too young yet to swim.

“When will Gregory swim with me, Mother?” Evander asked, looking at his brother, who was sitting in the sun, pulling at tufts of grass and chattering to himself.

“When he is a little older, then we shall teach him to swim. But until then, ‘tis only ye the monster will chase,” Marion replied.

“I can swim faster than the monster,” Evander said, and he turned to Brandon, who was just hauling himself up onto the bank.

“Is that so? Well, we shall just see about that,” Brandon replied.

But Evander now leaped forward, pushing Brandon back off the rock and into the pool, letting out a triumphant cry as he swam strongly across the pool to the waterfall, leaving Brandon flailing in his wake.

“Well now, maybe the monster is defeated,” Marion said, laughing at the sight of Brandon, who now pulled himself back out of the water.

“‘Tis a brave lad who pushes his laird into the water. Few could get away with it,” he said, smiling as Marion handed him his shirt.

It was the middle of summer, and the canyon was blooming with flowers of every shade and color, filled with life. They had left the castle early that morning, riding through the forest on horseback, Evander riding his own stead, which Brandon had bought him for his thirteenth birthday. It was called Flash and was grazing happily next to Marion and Brandon’s horses at the edge of the clearing.

“Ye let Evander get away with anythin’—will ye be so forgivin’ to Gregory,” she asked, and Brandon smiled, reaching down and picking up the little boy, who smiled and patted him on the cheek.

“I dote on them both. This little lad will grow up to be just like, Evander, I am sure, and I shall be forever chasin’ after them both,” he said, hanging Gregory to Marion, who called out for Evander to swim back to the bank.

“Must we go, Mother? I want to swim, and I want the monster to come and swim, too,” he said, as Brandon reached out his hand into the water and splashed Evander, who shrieked and dived back in.

“We can come again later this week, or Allie will bring ye when she comes to gather herbs and plants. But we must go now, Evander. The feast for the harvest festival is tonight, and there is still much to dae,” she said, beckoning him out of the water.

The harvest festival was now an eagerly anticipated feast, the traditional celebration of the summer and the bounty of the fields. A great feast was held in the great hall, and all the clan came together in unity, and to swear their loyalty to the laird. There was dancing and merrymaking long into the night, and the festival had become one of Marion’s favorite times of the year. There had been much to organize, and now they returned through the woodlands, in eager anticipation of all that was to come.

XXX

“They have hung the banners as I wished,” Brandon said, looking up approvingly at the castle walls, where the colors of the clan hung fluttering in the breeze.

They had reached the castle gates now, and the soldiers had hurried to greet them, saluting the laird, who now climbed down from his horse to make inspection.

“Have the first guests arrived yet?” Marion called out, and the soldier nodded.

“Aye, mistress, they started to arrive an hour or so ago. Ye will see their horses tethered in the courtyard,” he replied.

Marion, too, slipped down from her horse, making her way through the gates, with Gregory in her arms. Evander was old enough to lead the horse himself now, and he hurried off the to the stables, as Marion followed Brandon into the keep.

“I shall put Gregory in his bed for an hour or so, Brandon. Otherwise, he will be too tired for the feast,” she said, and Brandon nodded.

“Aye, the guests shall want to see him, I am sure,” he said, and Marion made her way upstairs to their chambers, meeting Allie as she went.

“Did they enjoy swimmin’ in the pool?” she asked, putting her hand on Gregory’s head, and smiling.

“Aye, they did. Though Gregory is still too small for the water, he played at the side while Brandon and Evander swam,” she replied, and Allie nodded.

“And are ye all right, Marion? Ye look tired, lass,” she said, and Marion sighed.

“I have been feelin’ tired lately, aye. But ‘tis nothin’—only the feast, I have had much to organize. But now it has arrived, I can enjoy it. See ye later,” she said, opening the door into her and Brandon’s chambers and laying Gregory down to sleep on the bed.

He smiled up at her, chattering away as he was wont to do. He had Brandon’s eyes, and she smiled down at him, tickling him on his stomach.

“Mama, I go to the feast,” he said, and she nodded.

“Aye, ye shall go to the feast, and sit next to yer brother. Go to sleep now for a while. I shall sit her by the window,” she said, taking up her embroidery and sitting in a chair which gave a view down into the courtyard.

Allie was right. She was tired, and despite the excitement of the day, she found herself nodding off. She awoke to the sound of Brandon entering the room, startled, as he stood before her, smiling.

“Did I wake ye?” he asked, and she leaped to her feet in surprise.

“Oh, ‘tis the hour already? There is still so much to dae,” she exclaimed, but he raised his hands and shook his head.

“All is done, Marion. Ye need only splash yer face with water and put on yer shawl. Come now, the clan has assembled. The feast is about to begin,” he said, smiling at her as he shook Gregory gently awake.

A few moments later, Marion was ready, and carrying Gregory in her arms, she followed Brandon down to the great hall. She could hear voices long before they reached the doors—this was the most eagerly anticipated moment in the year, and it seemed that more so than ever, the clan had made an effort to gather as one.

“There are hundreds here,” she exclaimed, gazing around the great hall,” and Brandon turned to her with a smile.

“Aye, the whole glen must be the preserve of the animals tonight, for every MacInnes is gathered here,” he said, as the pipers began to play.

Marion took his arm, still with Gregory on her other, and they walked down the central aisle in procession to the high table, where Evander and Allie were already sitting.

“Hail our noble laird, master of the MacInnes,” Oren said, standing to welcome Brandon, who nodded and turned to greet the clan.

“My friends, welcome. ‘Tis an honor to have ye here, an honor for us to gather as one on this most glorious feast when we celebrate the good news of the harvest, and all that we have accomplished in this year gone by,” he said, and a cheer rang out from the assembled clan.

What they had accomplished that year had been considerable—new farms had been established on the far side of the loch, and a village was under construction a mile or so along the shore from the castle which would allow for boats to easily be put out on that side of the loch to fish. The castle’s defenses had been strengthened and alliances forged with several clans to the north, and a pact agreed to defend the border against English marauders. Marion was proud of Brandon for all he had achieved, and thankful for the part she had played in encouraging the women of the clan to make goods to sell at the market and establish a school in the village for the children.

“Ye have done much that is good, Brandon,” Allie said, as Brandon took his seat.

“Aye, but there is still much more to dae, I know that,” Brandon replied, as wine was poured, and the feast began.

There was all manner of good things to eat, and the clansmen tucked in hungrily, helping themselves from platters of meat, pastries, and sweetmeats, dishes of vegetables, soups, and breads. Brandon had ordered barrels from the cellars to be tapped, and wine flowed in abundance. It was a true celebration, and Marion looked around her with a smile on her face, pleased to see the unity of the clan there before her.

“‘Tis a grand gatherin’ and so good to see everyone comin’ together like this,” Marion said, after she had finished her meal and pushed her plate to one side.

“And the dancin’ to come. I hope ye have nae forgotten how,” Brandon said, and Marion laughed.

“‘Tis nae that long since I danced, Brandon. Be careful ye daenae step on my feet,” she said, winking at him.

When the guests had eaten and drank their fill, the long trestle table was pushed back and the fire in the hearth was kindled with a great log from the forest—a symbol of their strength for the coming winter. The minstrels filed in, ready to play a merry tune, and the guests joined together for the dance. Evander made a show of asking Allie to dance with him, and Marion laughed to see him escorting her down the steps from the dais.

“And what of ye, Gregory, will ye dance with mother and father?” she asked, picking Gregory up and following Brandon into the throng.

The minstrels struck up their tune, and there was much laughter and joy as everyone joined in the dance. Brandon and Marion joined hands with Gregory and danced in a circle, the great hall coming alive as the music echoed all around. Marion could not have felt happier than to be surrounded by her family and the clan she loved. To be its mistress was her privilege and honor, a duty she took very seriously, one she knew she had been destined for.

“Ye have nae forgotten how to dance, lass,” Brandon said, and she raised her eyebrows at him.

“And ye have only stepped on my feet twice, Brandon, ye… oh,” she gasped, clutching at her side.

A terrible pain had just shot through her, and she stumbled, fortunate that Brandon was there to catch her.

“Marion, what is wrong?” he exclaimed, as the music came to a stop and all eyes turned toward them.

“I daenae know…” she said, as another sharp pain coursed through her.

Allie now came hurrying up, and she and Brandon lifted Marion to her feet, Evander and Gregory looking fearfully on.

“Come now, we must get her upstairs to bed, make way there,” Allie said, and the way through the great hall was cleared, the clansmen looking anxiously on.

“Mother?” Evander asked, his voice sounding fearful.

“I will be all right, Evander. Take care of Gregory now, will ye?” Marion replied, but she felt far from all right, barely making it up the stairs without collapsing again.

Brandon brought her to their chambers and laid her on the bed, and Allie hurried to stoke up the fire before going to her workshop and returning with all manner of ointments and remedies.

“What is wrong with her, Mother?” Brandon asked, and Allie shook her head.

“I must examine her first, then we shall know better. But first, a little of this on the lips. It will take away some of the pain,” she said, and she applied some of the ointment to Marion’s lips.

It was sweet, and its effects were almost instant, the pain subsiding, as Marion breathed a sigh of relief.

“I could barely stand, I was in such pain,” she said, looking up at Brandon, whose face was anxious.

“Ye have done too much these days past in preparin’ for the feast and ridin’ out today. I should nae have suggested it. I am…” he began, but she shushed him.

“Nae, Brandon, ‘tis nae yer fault. I am just tired, I am sure of it,” she said, as Allie began to examine her.

“Have ye been feelin’ unwell these past few days, Marion? Ye would tell us if ye were?” she asked, but Marion shook her head.

“‘Tis the first time I have felt like this, truly, so,” she said, and Allie nodded, running her hands gently over Marion’s stomach, before looking up with a smile.

“When did ye last bleed?” she asked, and Marion thought for a moment.

“Oh, but I have nae—ye daenae think that…” she began, and Allie smiled.

“‘Tis a simple explanation,” she said, and Marion glanced at Brandon, who looked puzzled.

“She is ill, Mother,” he said, but Allie shook her head.

“Nay, Brandon, foolish lad. She is with child,” she said, and Marion gave an exclamation of surprise.

“Oh, ‘tis I who am foolish then,” she cried.

She should have known the signs, but in the busyness of their preparations, she had barely had time to think. It all made sense now—the tiredness, the change in mood, the pain in her side, that was surely only a cramp, brought on by the exertion of the dance, and now she smiled, filled with joy at the news which Allie had given her.

“Then this is a happy day, indeed,” Brandon exclaimed, and he embraced Marion, kissing her, before turning to his mother with a smile and doing the same.

“A brother—or a sister—for the other two. They shall be so excited,” Allie exclaimed.

“Have the castle bell tolled, it must be proclaimed. Oh, this is the greatest of days,” Brandon said, his face now filled with joy at the prospect of being a father once again.

Allie hurried off to spread the good news, for the rest of the clan were surely waiting anxiously for news of the mistress. Brandon sat down on the side of the bed, and leaned forward to put his arms around Marion, kissing her again.

“Now, Brandon, ye must nae treat me as an invalid,” she said, but he only laughed.

“I would nae be allowed to, but ye are so precious to me, Marion, how I love ye,” he said, their lips meeting in a further kiss.

“And how fortunate we are to have been blessed like this—not once, but twice,” she said.

The thought of another child brought joy to her heart, as she knew it did to Brandon, too. Truly, they were blessed, and as the castle bell began to toll, Marion could not imagine feeling happier than she did at that moment, happy that in the end, it was an abundance of love which was theirs after so much sorrow had passed.

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Scottish Highlands

October 15, 1432

Beitris sat in the garden, a book in hand. It was an unusually sunny autumn’s day. The leaves were changing, casting the garden in honey and crimson hues. Beitris smiled while turning her face towards the sun, enjoying its warmth despite the crisp air. She pulled the shawl closer to her body, shivering at the light sweep of the wind rolling past.

“My lady,” someone called.

Beitris gently closed her book, turning towards a servant stumbling towards her through the narrow dirt path. “My lady, the new cook has arrived.”

Beitris clutched her book to her chest as she rose. Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall if there had been any mention of a new cook; however she couldn’t recall anything. She swallowed the bile threatening to rise and grimaced at the nausea sweeping over her. Her hand clasped the tree at her side, leaning into it while she tried to shake away the sickness overwhelming her.

“My lady,” the servant said, worry tinging her voice. “Are ye well?”

Beitris nodded as the nausea left her, and she forced a smile, hoping it would ease the servant’s worries. “Of course. Please,” she gestured towards the path, “take me to the new cook. I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”

Beitris followed the servant to the courtyard, finding a beautiful woman with long, fiery red hair and green eyes scowling up at Scott with her hands planted on her hips. “Ye don’t say,” the woman said bitterly while craning her head towards Scott.

Scott crossed his arms, smiling bitterly as he stared at the woman. “I just don’t see why ye, of all people, are back here. I thought ye were doing well in the village.”

“Well,” the woman huffed, “I’ve got mouths to feed, now don’t I? Just because I was doing well doesn’t mean I’m doing well now.”

Beitris pursed her lips as she watched Scott shark his head. She didn’t know exactly what she was stepping into. This argument seemed like it had been going on well before this woman stepped within their castle walls.

“Scott,” she called, watching as both the woman and Scott jerked to attention. “Is something wrong?”

Scott’s mouth gaped upon, and he glanced between the woman and Beitris, worry glimmering in his gaze mixed with something else. Beitris bit her tongue, knowing if she didn’t, she would have more questions needing answered, and she didn’t think poor Scott needed to be interrogated at a time like this.

“Apologies, my lady,” Scott rushed out. “I was only greeting the new cook.”

The woman narrowed her gaze at him, not impressed with his words. She forced a smile at Beitris and dipped into a curtsy. “Apologies, my lady, I am Alana Clark. Ye may have known of my father.”

Beitris was growing even more intrigued. She smiled while stepping towards the woman, noting her fraying hem and the hole in her brown scarf Alana kept trying to hide. “Ah, yes,” Beitris said while stopping in front of her. “He made my bookshelves. How is he?”

Alana grimaced. “Not well, I’m afraid. He’s taken ill.”

Beitris frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Will he get better?”

Alana lowered her gaze and shook her head. “I fear not.”

Beitris turned to Scott, noting the sorrow and worry in his eye as he stared down at Alana. Her gaze lingered on the hand he reached towards her, but it quickly fisted and lowered back to his side as if he was afraid to touch the girl.

Alana cleared her throat, and she forced a smile, which resembled more of a wince than anything. “Anyway, ye have naething to worry about, my lady. My mother used to cook here, and she has taught me well. I will work very hard to earn my wages.”

Beitris nodded. “Of course. We are very happy to-“ Beitris gasped, and she doubled over, nausea hitting her once more. Her legs wobbled underneath her, and she groaned, feeling her vision sway.

“My lady!” Scott shouted, grabbing her hand and holding her up. “Call for Hamish,” Scott ordered the servant at Beitris’s side. “Now!”

Beitris groaned, pressing a hand to her head while she followed Scott into the keep. “Where are we going?” she groaned.

“We need to get ye to bed.”

“Where is Fraser?” Beitris gagged, her hand flying to the wall to steady her.

“Please, my lady, we must move-“

Beitris retched onto the floor. She gasped as another wave hit her, her hands trembling as she clutched her book to her chest. Inhaling deeply, she waited for more bile to rise.

“My lady,” Scott whispered, his shoulders tense and his hand on her gently. “We should get ye to bed.”

Beitris shook her head. “Nae, I don’t think I can move.”

Scott grimaced, his nose wrinkling as a breeze rolled through the window. Beitris gagged as the scent of her bile rose to her senses. She feared she might be sick again.

“What’s this?”

Beitris groaned and turned towards Fraser, stalling towards them. His gaze glanced between the bile on the floor and Beitris leaning against the wall. “Are ye ill?”

Beitris shook her head. “I’m fine.”

Fraser pressed his hands against her cheeks, stroking away her hair sticking to her face. “Yer not well at all.”

“I’ve called for Hamish, my laird,” said Scott while Fraser picked her up and cradled her to his chest. “Shall I send him to yer rooms?”

“At once,” Fraser shouted while stalking down the halls.

Beitris groaned, her head lulling from side to side. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed while clamping her eyes closed. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I was fine this morn.”

Fraser sighed. “Ye have naething to be sorry for. ‘Tis not yer fault ye have fallen in. Let’s just hope there’s something that can be done about it.”

Beitris nodded, her eyes opening in time to watch Fraser shove open his door. He laid her carefully into the bed before tucking the blankets around her. She nuzzled into the pillows while Fraser closed the window and snapped the curtains closed.

“It’s better to have the light and fresh air,” Beitris called.

Fraser shook his head and paced back and forth. “We should wait for Hamish. ‘Tis too cold. Maybe ye caught something from the winds.”

A knock thudded at the door before Beitris could admonish Fraser for not listening to her. Fraser threw open the door, stepping to the side as Hamish strode inside and to her side.

“What is wrong?” Hamish asked while rifling through his jars.

“I do not know,” said Beitris while sitting up in bed. The spinning in her head was gone, and the nausea left her as quickly as it came. “I was fine in the morn, but suddenly the world wouldn’t stop moving. I, unfortunately, retched all over the stone floors.”

Hamish frowned, and his hands moved to her stomach, pressing lightly before stopping. His lips twitched before he leaned close to Beitris whispering, “I know it is forward of me to ask, but have ye been getting the bleeds?”

Beitris’s eyes widened, and she lurched forward. “I-I must have.” She frowned while moving her fingers up and counting in her head. They had been so busy with tending to the western villagers. Then, there was the flood in the East, which needed tending to, followed by a visit with Hendry and Peigi at their estate. She had been flitting back and forth for so long, she had forgotten about her bleeds in the ruckus.

“Oh,” she breathed, turning her attentions to Fraser.

Hamish smiled and nodded knowingly. He stepped towards the door while Fraser shuffled nervously from foot to foot. “What has happened?” Fraser asked worriedly. “Is she well now? Or is there naething to be done?”

“She is quite fine, my laird,” said Hamish while patting Fraser’s shoulder. “I’ll leave her to announce it.”

“Fraser, my love,” Beitris called sweetly while patting the bed. “Come here.”

Fraser frowned as he sat on the edge of the bed and grasped her hand. “What is it, my love?”

Beitris sighed. “Apologies, dear husband. I fear I have worried ye for naething. There is naething wrong with me.”

Fraser sighed in relief, his shoulders relaxing. “Then what could have made ye so ill?”

Beitris giggled and poked his nose. “A child.”

Fraser blinked. “A what?”

She knew he heard her, but she wanted to live in this joy, at the knowledge of knowing they were going to start a family. They were going to start a whole new adventure together. “I’m with child, my love.”

Fraser’s lips parted, growing into a wide smile as he pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms fiercely around her. “That’s such wonderful news,” he laughed. “Wonderful, wonderful news. I must tell Scott. Ye must write yer father.”

Fraser bounded from the bed, running towards the door. “We must have a large celebration!” he shouted, making Beitris giggle. “And a feast. Tonight!” He paused, turning on his heel and running back to her side, kneeling before her and grabbing her hand. “Only if ye wish it, Beitris. Only if yer well enough.”

Beitris giggled as she stared down at her husband, at this loving man who cared so much for her. She never thought she could be this happy, and with a child in their future, she knew they would have happy days for the rest of her life. As she stared at her husband, something caught her attention. The adoration in his gaze as he stared at her, was the same way Scott had looked upon the new cook, Alana. Her smile widened, and she squeezed Fraser’s hand, wondering if there would be many more celebrations at Castle Dunnegan that included the pair.

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The sun beat down on Ramsey Bain so heavily that he wondered if it was trying to fight him. The sword in his hand was heavy enough that it made his arms ache as he had been wielding it for a while now. Sweat dripped down his brow as he stood, waiting for his opponent’s strike, but he could not even take the time to wipe his sweat because he knew that if he gave any openings at all, he would lose in an instant.

Standing in front of him with his sword at the ready was his older cousin, and The Younger of the clan, Nathan Mackenzie. His cousin was a beautiful young man. He did not think that there was any other explanation that could do him justice. His strawberry blond hair that he got from his blond father and red-haired mother, had grown long enough to brush his collar bones when he let it down now. His dark blue eyes were teasing and full of laughter most of the time, but there were times when that playfulness became scary, and now was one such moment, as sparring with his cousin made him feel like a mouse being toyed with by a cat.

The two of them were the best swordsmen in their age group. Nathan continued to tell him that the gap in their skills was only because Nathan was older than him with five years, but Ramsey knew that was a lie. Nathan was just ridiculously strong and the only reason why he could fight better than everyone else, was because he was frequently sparring with Nathan, and due to that, fighting with anyone else seemed easy. Every time he improved and thought he had taken one step closer; Nathan was still ten steps ahead.

Sometimes, the other boys asked him if he never felt frustrated about it, but Ramsey had never felt any frustration. He loved his cousin who was like a big brother to him. For as long as he could remember, he had looked up to Nathan. They had always been close, since they were much younger. Every time that Nathan found a new interest, or some new friends, Ramsey always thought that it would be the time when his cousin would finally leave him behind and stop being so close to him given the age gap between them. Each time however, he was always wrong as Nathan did not fail to carry him along.

Even now as he felt like prey in front of his cousin, his heart was pounding with excitement and there was a huge grin on his face. The bead of sweat on his brow finally dropped and Ramsey blinked to protect his eyes. That split second was all it took as before he knew what was happening, he had been swept off his feet, his weapon appropriated, and he now had the tips of two blunted swords at his neck. Exhausted, he flopped down on the ground with a groan and shut his eyes against the sun.

He heard his cousin chuckle victoriously before the clang of the swords hitting the ground, and his cousin lay down next to him. His arms were aching quite a bit, but he was pleased with the sensation. It meant that he would soon be big and strong like his father General Alastair Bain and his Uncle Laird William Mackenzie, his aunt’s husband.

Nathan was only nineteen years old, and he was already half as big as his father. Ramsey could not see any men possibly bigger than the ones in his family. As they grew older, they seemed to get more massive, it was beyond his comprehension. However, he knew why when he watched his father and uncle spar. It was always like a dream. Even Nathan, with how skilled he was, had not won against his father or uncle even once, but he continued to train and try anyway. Ramsey wondered if his cousin felt the same way he did fighting them that Ramsey felt when he fought him. He could not even imagine sparring seriously with his father yet. He was still too green.

“Ye boys are always like this, ye always lie around on the ground after yer spar. Dae ye want to be a rug that badly?” a feminine voice above him said. That voice was no one else other than Ramsey’s twin sister Marie. He opened his eyes to find that she was blocking the sun with her head. He sighed in relief, closing his eyes again with a serene expression.

“Ah, ye are quite the perfect shade, sister, finally we found something that ye are great at for once,” he teased.

He had known the price of that joke when he made it, but he did it anyway. When she stepped on his belly in retaliation, it was expected, but that did not mean it hurt any less. He screamed and Nathan guffawed beside him. Marie was good at a great number of things, but she also lost interest easily.

His sister was a very strong woman, so she had started their sword lessons together with her, however she had lost interest in it a few years ago after reaching average standards of proficiency. After that, she had begun learning how to shoot a bow but stopped that as well.

Their father had said that there was nothing wrong with her trying different things to find what she was great at. His inside joke had been about her finally finding something she perfected as the jack of all trades she was.

“Marie, dae nae kill yer brother over there, he is the only one ye have got,” the voice that saved him finally came. It was their father speaking, and so Marie left him alone. He could hear Ivie and the youngest of them, Ellie his ten-year-old cousin giggling as they approached them. Ellie was blonde like her father as well, but her eyes were brown like her mother’s instead of blue. Ellie and Ivie who were only two years apart in age were joined at the hip and inseparable.

The two younger girls in their household were not as vivacious as Marie, liking the simpler things like baking together and making dresses. The two of them had been drawing up clothes for women with skirts that did not fall to the ankle. They modeled those dresses after their mothers who had both become famous in the clan for ripping their dresses in times of danger, and valiantly facing the enemy. The girls kept their drawings a secret however as their mothers were both severely embarrassed by those tales, covering their faces in shame each time someone brought it up.

Their mothers claimed that the stories the people told were too greatly exaggerated, but when they told the stories themselves, it was not any less heroic. Naturally, the girls all looked up to their mothers although they expressed it in different ways. Ellie threw herself at her brother who as usual was quick to catch her, getting to his feet so that he could lift her above his head, and spinning in a circle.

“Oh, me precious sister… ye look absolutely beautiful today!” Nathan said, in his accent which remained partially French even after spending eleven years in the Highlands with all of them. His partial accent was not a problem however, along with his voice, it made all the young women they met seemingly melt in front of him as they held on to his every word. It had no effect on the women in their family though, although his existence was enough to make them giddy instead.

Ivie stretched her hand out and dabbed at Ramsey’s face, getting his attention as she wiped his sweat, before plopping down to hug him. He laughed at his sister’s antics and hugged her back.

“Oh, Nathan is right! Ivie, ye two look wonderful,” he said as well. The girls were all dressed up in their prettiest clothes as today was the day a painter was coming to paint their family portrait. He would need to leave with Nathan very soon to bathe and put on their own formal clothes.

A throat clearing to the side made them all turn their head to Marie, who looked every bit like one of the gorgeous fee from the folklores. Her auburn hair was held up in an elaborate style by several pins and expensive brooches, and her dress was a yellow that made her brown eyes stand out.

“Ye look wonderful, Marie,” he complimented, not even bothering to tease her. Nathan complimented her effusively as well and the girls ran up to her, admiring her dress. Satisfied with their compliments, she raised her nose in the air playfully.

Their fathers had been watching everything from where they sat together on the chairs that had been brought out of the house and placed on the hill for the purpose of their family portrait. They had all left the castle the night before as their parents decided that they wanted the first family portrait to be taken at their family home in the village his father and aunt had come from.

Both men were already dressed in their finest kilts and coats with their beards trimmed, only waiting for their wives to be ready. Ramsey realized it at seemingly the same time as Nathan. Everyone was already dressed and ready, except for them. Once their mothers came out of that house, they would be the only ones not ready. The two exchanged glances, before taking off running towards the house in a bid to get into the bathhouse before their mothers came out.

….

Devona stepped out of the house and unto the grass, holding hands with Jane as the both of them helped each other to stay balanced in their fancy shoes as they walked on the grass towards the picture position where their husbands were sitting in the chairs meant for them. Spotting them approaching, both men got to their feet swiftly and offered the chairs up with gentlemanly bows.

Devona smiled at her husband William who as far as she was concerned, had only gotten even more handsome with age. Following Alastair’s choice, he had also begun to keep a beard after their second child Ellie was born. It suited him perfectly, and he always laughed saying that his father had kept a beard throughout the time he knew him, so of course a beard would suit him too. Both him and her brother continued to grow stronger in their old age as they stayed fit both to polish up their skills and to make sure that their insanely talented sons did not surpass them too soon.

To the boys, their fathers were probably the strongest men that they knew, but they did not see them after every spar complaining to their wives about how they were getting too old for this and making exaggerations about their creaking bones. She chuckled as she thought of it before searching with her eyes for their sons in question and finding them nowhere. Seeing Marie and the girls waddling suspiciously with something behind their backs that they refused to walk straight so as not to let her see, she could already figure out what was happening. She turned narrowed eyes to William and her brother, Jane doing the same thing.

“They are nae ready, are they? The lads,” Devona said. William scratched his jaw guiltily and Alastair just laughed nervously. She exchanged a glance with Jane who wore an unimpressed expression similar to hers. They had known it would be like this. The boys had taken up their swords for what they claimed would be a light spar, so she had asked William to make sure that it would indeed be a light spar since she knew that the boys had a tendency to get carried away when their fathers were watching them spar.

From the way both men were avoiding their judgmental gazes, they had no doubt forgotten to tell the boys when it was enough and instead been carried away themselves while they accessed the boys fighting. She clicked her tongue at them before Jane finally let the cat out of the bag.

“We knew that something like this would happen, that is why we did not give you all the correct time for when the painter will arrive,” her sister-in-law said. William and Alastair’s jaws dropped open and they both gave them dramatic expressions of betrayal. The girls who had approached them after getting rid of the swords which were evidence of their brothers being late, also let out exclamations in protest.

She lifted her nose as she brushed a plum against her lips to deepen its color before popping the piece of fruit in her mouth.

“Now, they will be on time after all, so this was the perfect way to deal with ye all,” she said.

Marie began to whine about wearing her dress for too long and how she should have been allowed to dress up at this time as well so that she would not sweat in her dress. Jane only gave her an unimpressed snort. They all knew that Marie just wanted to play around until the very last minute like the boys had.

With her family around her, Devona could not help but smile to herself. On this day eleven years ago, she had been on this very hill, coming to visit her parents after returning to the clan. She had been lost and unsure of herself back then as she met with her brother again, not confident in thinking that she deserved any love since she had been gone for so long and returned suddenly.

Looking at Jane talking animated with Marie, she remembered how she had been worried that her brother’s wife would not like her since she was an extra responsibility who had appeared and even brought a child with her.

Looking at William bending over to let Ellie whisper something in his ear, she remembered how shocked she had been when she was told that William was going to let her stay in his castle despite the way she had broken his heart by leaving without saying a word to him nineteen years ago.

She felt it was crazy when she thought about it, that her nineteen-year-old son, who was already one of the most sought-after young men in the Highlands, had grown up from the tiny baby she had wrapped in her cloak, sitting on the streets of Paris, and thinking that she would have to give him away to an orphanage when starvation threatened to take her life.

She had been through so many highs and lows of life that it brought a tear to her eye when she thought about it while looking at where she was now. She raised her face and blinked several times to keep the tears that had formed from coming out.

This was no time to cry, she needed to look perfect for the family portrait. She got the perfect distraction right at that moment as the doors to the house burst open and Ramsey and Nathan came running out, nearly tripping over each other as they approached. She pursed her lip with dissatisfaction as she noted Nathan’s wrongly buttoned shirt and his coat which was on the rumpled, but was at least on the right way unlike Ramsey’s which was on backwards.

The girls burst into a fit of giggles at the chaotic sight and William and Alastair turned away when their chuckles were met with judgmental stares from their wives.

“Ahem, I should probably help him with his coat,” Alastair said sheepishly, clearing his throat and adjusting his collar.

“Stop runnin’, ye fools, we gave ye the wrong time because we ken that ye would have been late like this if we told ye the actual time,” she called out to them. Much like their fathers the two boys stopped in their tracks and gave her an open-mouthed stare of betrayal causing her to roll her eyes.

“Oh, come off it, get over here so that yer faithers can help ye put yer clothes in order, ye look like a mess,”she said.

The boys scratched their heads sheepishly and took off their coats beginning to arrange their clothes properly on their own even as their fathers approached to help them. After a few moments, they looked every bit the respectable young men, nothing even hinting at their previous looks of disarray.

Nathan’s long hair was combed and smoothed back so that his locks were held behind his ears and Alastair had righted Ramsey’s jacket. Devona’s heart swelled with pride at the sight of her son. Nathan who was fully aware of this effect sidled up to her, leaning down to give her a hug and placing his head on her shoulder like he did when he was younger.

“Ye look beautiful, Mother,” he said in his mixed-up accent.

She wondered who he was learning such tricks from, as she knew he was only trying to avoid the scolding and ear-pulling that Ramsey was now getting.

Devona squeezed her son’s cheeks instead, pulling until his face looked like stretched out dough and his sounds of protest were warped as his lips were spread.

“Nice try there, very nice try. Ye really think that ye can escape me wrath, dae ye nae?” she said. Only after ample cheek squeezing time, did she finally let him go and he rubbed his reddened cheeks with fake sobs.

“I was nae lying though, Mother, ye truly dae look beautiful,”he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead even as he still massaged his stinging cheeks. She clutched at her chest, no longer able to resist his sweetness and forgiving him immediately.

She had just released him from the bone-crushing hug she had pulled him into when the painter arrived. As they all gathered to pose for the painting, Devona knew that they would be perfect like this forever, just like a picture in a painting, preserved for all time.

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