“You’re not?”
She nodded. “I thought I was late when you went, but now I’m certain.”
A voice interrupted them from the doorway. “What are you two looking so happy about?”
They turned to find Fingal leaning on his walking stick. While Tavish had been away he’d improved in leaps and bounds. The apothecary had worked wonders and he no longer looked like a skeleton, his skin clean, the sores healing. The only sign of his prolonged incarceration was a fading limp.
He took a step into the room. “Ah heard you were back, Tavish. The laird tells me all is well. Your record is expunged. I suppose you have much to smile about.”
“Aye, Father,” Tavish said. “Once he knew the truth, he signed the contract. He has no prime heir of his blood. I am to be laird as recompense for what was done to thee and me, and my children after me will inherit the title.”
“Wonderful,” Fingal said with a smile. “And to think you might have ended your days an outlaw if you hadn’t met yon lass there.”
“Aye. Though that is not why we smile.” Tavish kept his hand pressed to Lindsey’s stomach.
Fingal’s smile broadened, his eyes growing wide. “You dinnae mean…is it true?”
Lindsey grinned. “I’m pregnant.”
Fingal threw his stick away, limping over toward her and throwing his arms around them both.
“That’s wonderful,” he said, losing his balance almost at once and falling onto the bed. He sat up laughing. “I am to be a grandfather.” His smile faded. “Your mother would have loved to see this moment.” The smile returned and lit up his face. “No doubt she is watching still. Now pass me my stick or you’ll be stuck with my company all day.”
“Your company is most welcome, Father.”
Fingal got to his feet slowly, holding out his hand for the stick. “I will not keep a man and wife from their reunion. I will see you tonight at dinner.”
By the time the horn blew for the evening meal, Lindsey and Tavish were thoroughly reacquainted. They joined the rest of the clan in the great hall, sitting on the high table beside the laird who called for silence before the food was brought out.
“Some of you will already have heard,” he began, his voice echoing around the candlelit walls. “We all now know the truth of what happened on that dark day so many years ago. Lilias the flower girl did not speak the truth during the trial of Tavish, son of Fingal. Princess Margaret, may she rest in peace, was murdered at the hands of no one. Her death was naught but an accident, most tragic and the fault of none here today.”
Lindsey glanced at Tavish who nodded almost imperceptibly. The laird was not sadistic in his response to finding out the truth. He was willing to show Lilias a little mercy, not mentioning that she could have caught the princess before she fell but chose not to. He continued his speech as the room listened in silence.
“Today we return with the knowledge that the man who was once an outlaw will one day become laird of Clan Sinclair. By his side, none could ask for a better wife and lady than Lindsey who, I dinnae mince my words, saved us all.
“In her name, the village of Tavistock will be rebuilt in honor of her, the sacred stone, and all good people of Clan Sinclair. I ask you now to raise your goblets and toast the man and woman who brought back the stone and ended our feud with the MacIntyres.” He lifted his horn cup above his head, mead splashing over the sides. “To Tavish and Lindsey. May they be bonded for all days, past, present, and future.”
“Tavish and Lindsey,” came the response from the crowd.
“Can we no eat yet?” Fingal called out. “I’m starved and you blether on like a fishwife.”
The crowd gasped but the laird just roared with laughter. “Bring in the food!”
The meal began, conversation spreading around the room. Lindsey looked at her husband and then out at the inhabitants of the castle. She smiled to herself. She was truly happy and truly in love.
She had everything she had always needed and the one thing she’d never even realized she wanted. A family with her outlaw Highlander.
