“He loved you, too, Duncan. What he did was wrong, but he was trying to make it right.”
He nodded, then sat down on the chair and pulled her onto his lap, cuddling her in his arms. She laid her cheek on his chest, savoring the warm strength of him.
She couldn’t quite believe it was all over.
“It’s strange how my father’s life mirrored mine.” His eyes met hers. “Except for one thing.”
“What’s that?” Jeannie asked softly.
“I have the chance to make amends that my father did not.” He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss on her fingers. “Ten years ago I asked you to marry me. I don’t deserve a second chance, but say you’ll marry me again and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”
Jeannie tried to swallow, but the lump in her throat made it impossible. Her heart swelled with love for him, with long overdue happiness, and with disbelief that all her dreams were finally coming true.
She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He grinned, and brought her mouth to his. This time when he kissed her, he didn’t stop.
Epilogue
Beltane, 1609, Dunoon Castle
Jeannie paused at the entrance to the great hall, surveying the festive scene of celebration before her, momentarily overcome by emotion. It was almost too perfect. Maybe she should pinch herself to make sure it was real.
She’d waited over ten years for this wedding. It seemed fitting that it be on Beltane, the ancient festival of fertility and spring—a day for new beginnings—and the true day of Dougall’s birth.
The back of her neck prickled and her senses seemed to come alive. Her heart skipped a beat, then shot forward with anticipation. She felt the warm, hard strength of his body behind her as he slid his hands around her waist, clasping them over her stomach and nuzzling his face in her neck and hair.
The soft warmth of his breath near her ear sent a shiver of desire rippling down her spine. “Is it everything you hoped for, wife?”
Wife.She didn’t think she would ever get tired of hearing it. Unwilling to wait while everything was worked out, they’d been married secretly over four months ago, but today they’d done so publicly with all their family gathered together to witness their celebration.
She tilted her head slightly to peer up at him, her heart catching at his boyish grin. Looking at him now, it was easy to remember the handsome young warrior she’d seen across the hall at Stirling Castle who’d captured her young girl’s heart. Her love for him had never changed; it had always been there. She’d only had to become strong enough to trust it.
“It’s perfect,” she said softly, adding, “Chief.” Her eyes sparkled with mischievousness, unable to resist teasing him. She was rewarded by the faint tinge of color on his face. He had every right to be proud. He’d stepped into the role with ease, already earning the respect and admiration of his clansmen. She knew the position felt strange to him and that he still was getting used to the fact that he was Chief of Auchinbreck, but he’d been a leader for years—all that had changed was his title.
It was hard to believe all that had happened. They were truly blessed.
She gazed around the room, seeing her brother and his wife, her two younger sisters and their husbands—even Huntly and the Countess had put aside his differences with Argyll for the day to be here. Telling them about Dougall had been one of the most difficult things she’d ever had to do. Lady Gordon had just one question. “Did my son know?” Jeannie’s assurances that he did had been enough. The Countess’s fierce love of family might not ever include Jeannie, but it did her children. Both of them.
They’d yet to tell Dougall the truth of his birth, but would when the time was right. But he was so perceptive—much like his father—that she wondered whether he’d already guessed the truth. She frowned. “Where are Dougall and Ella?”
Duncan cocked a dark eyebrow, his blue eyes twinkling. “Take one guess.”
She groaned. Ever since Duncan had told the children of how his sword had been used by his ancestor to save the life of King Robert the Bruce, they’d acted like it was something akin to Excalibur. “Fighting over the sword again?”
He nodded. “I’m going to have the cleanest sword in the kingdom.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, they promised to come down and eat when they were finished.”
“Which means we shall have about an hour of quiet before Ella gets hold of you.”
He chuckled and drew her a little closer. “I don’t know, I think I’ve been replaced in her affection.”
Jeannie caught the direction of his glance. “I think you’re right. I’m glad Jamie and Caitrina could be here after all.”
“Aye, it was thoughtful of my wee niece to make her appearance a few weeks early so they could make the journey.”
The tiny cherub was the most beautiful child Jeannie had ever seen—not surprising given her parents. Ella was almost as fascinated with the child as she was with the sword—high praise indeed. “Perhaps she’ll leave with a name?”
He laughed. “I doubt it. The last I heard Caitrina wanted to call her ‘Peace’ because it was the last Jamie would ever know or ‘Penance’ for what he would pay later when the lass is old enough to catch a male eye or two.”
