He grinned and accepted her offering. Once he’d slipped both shoes on and helped her to her feet, she unfastened her cloak, revealing a simple but elegant light yellow gown. The color perfectly matched the slender yellow stripe in the McTaggart plaid sash tied around her waist.
“Turn around, lass. Let me see what ye’ve done with my tartan.”
Her pale brow arched. “Your tartan? You gave it to me, if you’ll remember.” She spun so he could admire the plaid train cascading down the back of her skirts. Glancing over her shoulder, she added, “You said every McTaggart woman has one.”
“Aye, that she does, and do you know why?”
“No.” Eddi faced him again, her eyes wide with wonder. “Why?”
He slid his arm around her waist. The tartan felt soft beneath his palm, and his Eddi even softer. “To let everyone know her McTaggart loves and cherishes her. He’ll protect her with his last breath.”
She reached up to cup his face. “And how does everyone know her McTaggart is loved and cherished in return?”
“He knows, lass.” He covered her hand, relishing the warmth of her palm through her glove. “When she looks at him with those bright blue eyes, he knows.”
A loud clearing of the throat drew his attention. Reverend Adair stood in front of the altar, arms crossed. “Are you marrying the lass today, Fergus McTaggart?”
“Oh, aye.” He held his arm out to Eddi, who looped hers around his. “And for the rest of our lives.”
Epilogue
“How dare you bring that man here?” Lavinia’s muffled shout held a note of panic.
Helena cringed as something heavy banged against the wall, rattling a nearby painting.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Lord St. Ambrose bellowed back. “My child will have a father.”
Helena paused mid-pace in the study and cast a wide-eyed look at her beloved Sebastian. “Do you think Reverend Adair can hear them?”
The clergyman had been whisked away to an unused drawing room the moment Lavinia realized what Lord St. Ambrose intended. Though Lavinia hadn’t yet raised her voice fully, her face had turned an alarming shade of red, prompting Helena and Sebastian to slip into the study once the minister was safely tucked away.
Sebastian left his chair to gather Helena into his arms. She melted against him, savoring the lean strength of his body. “I’d wager everyone on the estate could hear them, darling. Your sister and St. Ambrose might bring down the roof if they get much louder.”
Helena pulled back slightly to meet his gaze. “Is that supposed to comfort me?”
His grin made her breath catch, as it always did. She hoped she never lost the thrill that came with being the recipient of his attention. “The castle has seen worse rows, Helena. Don’t you remember how Edith and Fergus were at each other’s throats not long ago? And now they’re happily married, off to enjoy their wedding night.”
A tentative smile softened her lips. “They did seem happy, didn’t they? Leaving Aldmist Fell will be easier knowing Edith is here to watch over Fergus.”
He chuckled, pulling her close again and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “He’s a grown man, Helena. He doesn’t need a nursemaid.”
“Perhaps, but I find comfort in knowing he’s not alone.”
“Alone? Have you seen the swarm of McTaggarts in this castle?”
Sebastian’s teasing brought a smile to her face. She knew Fergus needed a helpmate—someone to love—and he had found that in Edith.
Helena would rest easier still if she could see Lavinia’s future secured. Her sister loved Lord St. Ambrose, and he adored her. Surely there was a way for them to find their happily-ever-after. What other choice was there? They had a child on the way.
She nibbled her lip, twisting her fingers together in a tight knot. “Lavinia will be furious with me for telling St. Ambrose about the baby.”
“She’ll forgive you in time, love. One day, she’ll see you had her best interests at heart.”
The shouting had stopped, and a moment later, the door swung open. Lord St. Ambrose appeared with Helena’s sister at his side. Lavinia looked surprisingly composed, despite the earlier commotion. Her smile was tight, but when she met Helena’s gaze, there was a hopeful spark in her blue-green eyes that eased Helena’s spirits.
“As you may have heard,” Lavinia said, “St. Ambrose has offered marriage. I’ve been given little choice but to accept, and we have need of witnesses. Are you and Lord Thorne available?”
“Of course.” Helena approached her sister cautiously. “Lavinia, should we speak privately first?”
