“Aye, I’m certain,” he told her, giving her a tender smile. “There’s no one else I would want by mah side as mah wife. Ye are kind, courageous, and make me happier than anyone or anything ever could. I never want tae know wot it feels like tae not have ye, lass.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes as he took her hand, clasping it gently in his. “Tell me ye will make me happy and marry me.”
“Aye,” she said, throwing herself at him. “Aye!”
Irvine crushed her to his chest, breathing a small sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to have to ever live without Bridget. They would spend the rest of their days together, and he would be happy, even if he were never laird.
After letting Leathen inform the tenants of their engagement, Irvine, Malcolm, Bridget, and some of the warriors headed back to the castle, where Lisbeth nearly lost it seeing them approach. Irvine smiled as his mother kissed his father, grasping Bridget’s hand tightly as they watched the heartwarming scene.
When they were done, his mother turned to Bridget, her cheeks wet from her tears. “I take it that ye are tae be mah new daughter?” she asked lightly.
“Aye,” Irvine answered, pulling Bridget close. “I wish tae wed her once the mourning period is over.” He didn’t want to wait too long, but he did want to honor his great-aunt and ensure that everyone had given her the proper respects. She had been a great laird, and he hoped he could continue on the tradition.
His mother grinned, placing her arm around his father’s waist. “Well, then I dinnae think that yer aunt Edna would want ye tae wait on something like that unless ye want tae wait until ’tis official.”
He knew what she was referring to. She was referring to the lairdship. “Aye,” he said softly, his voice wavering slightly. “I would like tae have it happen first.”
His mother inclined her head. “Then it will happen.” She stepped forward and held out her hands to Bridget, who took them hesitantly. “Welcome tae our family.”
Bridget looked back at Irvine, and he smiled at her. “Thank ye.”
“Och, lass,” he responded. “Thankye.”
That evening, Irvine waited for Bridget in the great hall with his father, a glass of whiskey in his hand. After a bath and a few hours’ rest, he felt at peace for the first time in a long while.
His family was safe, and his future was far different than it had been the day he had left the castle on his quest. If he hadn’t made the decision to go after the farm, then he wouldn’t have met Bridget.
“I like her, Irvine,” Lisbeth said, laying a hand on his arm. “She will be a good wife tae ye and a good leader for the clan.”
“Aye, she will be,” Irvine agreed. “She reminds me of ye.”
His mother laughed as he took a drink of his whiskey. “I dinnae ken if that is a good thing or not.”
“I dinnae ken if we can handle two of ye,” William groaned before his mother hit him on the shoulder. Irvine watched them, reminded of their interactions through the years. They had always been like this, a common love and affection between them, and he hoped that he and Bridget would have the same in their marriage.
“Och, ye are lovely, lass.”
Irvine turned, and he ceased to breathe as he watched Bridget descend the stairs, dressed in a fine gown of green. Her hair was done up on her head, with curls escaping their confines, and her eyes were glowing as she joined them, clearly happy to be in the castle. He had worried that she might not feel like it could be home but given her smile, perhaps she would.
“Are ye ready?” he asked hoarsely, wanting nothing more than to scoop her up in his arms and take her back upstairs.
“Aye,” she said softly. “I’m ready.”
Draining his glass, he set it aside and reached for her hand, clasping it tightly in his. “Then let’s go and finish this.”
Together, they walked into the study where the elders waited, followed by his mother and father as witnesses.
“Irvine McMillian,” the elder stated, greeting him with a warm smile, “I hear ye have something tae say.”
“Aye,” Irvine stated, refusing to release Bridget’s hand. She was his strength, and with her by his side, he could do anything. “I wish tae formally ask tae become laird.”
“And why do ye think that we should grant that request?” the elder continued. “’Tis the clan that has the right tae grant the request, not us.”
“I want tae get yer approval,”’ Irvine started. “Because ye are wot represents the clan, not the laird or any other member of our family. Ye have been a part of this clan and will see it into the future.”
The elder chuckled, shaking his head. “I wilnae live forever,” he stated as the other four elders laughed as well. “But ye have said the right things, Irvine McMillian, and ’tis yer ability tae see past the lairdship and tae the needs of yer people that will make ye a fine laird. Ye have our approval and our blessing.”
Irvine felt his knees weaken.
