He began moving, and before long, she met the storm again and vanquished it, then rested in Stellan’s arms, secure in the knowledge that she would never be lonely again. Or afraid. This man loved her and took care of her. She would do the same for him as long as she lived. And for any children they were blessed with. And for their clan. Today— and tonight —she’d taken on more than just this man, but she did so gladly, with hope and happiness for their future.
“I love ye, Stellan,” she told him. “With my whole being.”
“As I love ye, Mariota,” he whispered and caressed her cheek. “Ye mean more to me than anything in this world. I will love ye always, and never leave ye.”
She put a hand on his chest, over his beating heart. “That is all I ask of ye.”
EPILOGUE
DUNROBIN CASTLE, SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS, SPRING 1413
Mariota patted her rounding belly and smiled at Cook from her seat at the long worktable in the Sutherland kitchen. “I dinna ken how much of this is the heir and how much is yer excellent honey cakes.” She’d just finished another piece, and while she knew she didn’t need another, the bairn inside her seemed to have other ideas.
“Time will tell, lass,” Cook told her with a grin and put another small square, dripping with golden honey, on her plate. “Ye are eating for two.Dinna fash.”
“I try no’ to, but my feet have hidden from me for the last month. I canna see my slippers any longer.” She laughed. “Stellan has to help me put them on,” she added, eyeing the golden goodness waiting for her on the plate. “I’ll be glad when this bairn comes and I can find the rest of me again.”
“Like as no’, yer husband will be glad to be able to find the rest of ye, too. And ye’ll end up just like this again.” She laughed and slapped the tabletop.
Mariota had to laugh with her. A few more weeks. She could do this for a few more weeks. The reward would be worth all that she’d been through, and the pain yet to come. She hoped the bairn was a lad. Stellan would be excited to have his heir, but sheknew he’d be happy with a daughter, too. He would never treat her as her own father had treated her, even if it turned out their lassie bairn was fated to become the Sutherland laird after him.
“Ye are smiling more every day,” Cook told her. “Ye seem happier than when ye arrived. Because of the bairn?”
“And Stellan. And all of ye. I’m a very lucky lass.”
“A very smart lass, I’d say.” Cook patted her hand and moved away to deal with the rest of her busy kitchen.
Mariota sighed and gave in to temptation. Just this last piece, and she’d go back to work. She wanted to organize the clan’s library, which had fallen into disuse. She’d been overjoyed when she first saw it, a moment later, appalled as she realized how haphazardly books, documents, and maps were scattered about. Someone had cleaned as best they could, but really, everything would be so much more accessible and useful once she finished. Stellan heartily approved her efforts. Laird Sutherland was never much of a reader and had no opinion, Stellan told her, so she forged ahead. She was nearing the point when she would have to reach upper shelves, but Stellan had forbidden her from the library ladder, possibly forever. She would have him or Anders or one of the lads in the clan act as her arms and legs to bring things down to her so she could add them to the catalog she had created, then have them placed where they would belong in her system, and clean the upper shelves.
Archery was out of the question until the bairn came. She missed it, but she watched the lasses train, and more of them, old and young, joined all the time. Mariota knew they were eager to help defend their home, but she could also see they enjoyed spending time together learning a new skill. If only they knew how much that pleased her.
She loved her life at Sutherland. Loved Stellan more with each passing hour. Loved the people of the clan who had welcomed her from her first visit. Nan and Brìghde were still twoof her closest friends. And the letters Seamus sent now and again told her he was doing well as MacKay’s laird— as she’d known he would. The clan had a new leader and a new spirit of respect and cooperation that had sadly deteriorated during the last few years of her father’s life. In passing the responsibility to Seamus, she had made the best decision for her clan.
She had just finished the last bite of the honey cake when Stellan found her. She looked up at him and had to laugh at his rueful expression, lips pursed, but laughter in his eyes. “Again? I pray Cook doesna run out of honey cake before the bairn comes.”
She ignored his teasing. “Aye, ye found me.”
“I looked for ye in the library. I shouldha kenned ye’d be here. I could smell fresh honey cakes from the great hall.”
“Sit,” Cook told him, approaching with another piece for him. “Dinna give this to yer wife. She’ll birth a honey cake if she eats any more today.”
“I’ll be happy to help prevent that,” Stellan said and dug in.
Mariota watched him enjoy the treat without a trace of envy. She’d had more than her share, and the bairn’s share, too. They both were satisfied and ready for a nap.
“I see yer eyelids drooping,” Stellan told her as he scooped up his last bite. “I’ll take ye upstairs.”
“I have too much work to do,” she objected. “The library?—”
“Will be there after ye have rested. Valkyrie, too, now the rain has moved off.” He stood and held out a hand. “Come, wife.”
Mariota gave him her hand and let him pull her to her feet. He moved the bench aside to make it easier for her to slip by it and away from the table. “Thank ye, Cook.” She patted her belly. “We enjoyed it all.”
“Any time, lass. Ye tell me what ye want, and I’ll see it done.”
“I see ye have Cook wrapped around yer little finger,” Stellan told her a few moments later, as they crossed the great hall.
“I’m grateful for her care,” Mariota said, “hers and everyone’s here.”
