“With his murder, you mean,” Lynette rousedherself enough to shrill out.
Roark ignored her.“We’ve agreed.Jenny,pregnant with Leif’s child, distraught and provoked by Leif’scruelty, acted rashly and without forethought or malice.”He lookedto Jenny and her parents, who didn’t move, blink, or even breathe.“We absolve you of Leif’s murder.”Loud gasps of collective relieffilled the square as Lynette stood with her mouth hanging slack.“We offer you the choice of staying here at North Shore Keep towork as you have been and raise your child, or moving to Thorn Bushor Yew Tree.”Roark smiled kindly as Jenny burst into sobs.“Youhave plenty of time to decide.”
“Thank you, Laird Roark,” Craig said, hugginghis wife and daughter to him.“Thank you, all of you.”
Roark nodded, looked out over the crowd, toedthe ground with his boot, squared his shoulders, and met Alina’sworried, waiting gaze.
“As laird, I will need to marry,” he said.“As you all know, my family betrothed me to Gwyneth, the onlydaughter of Roger and Lynette MacKinnon, ten years ago now.”Gwyneth giggled again and dimpled.Alina swallowed her heart.“However, since the MacKinnons were not who or what they presentedthemselves to be, I have been allowed to withdraw from thisbetrothment.”
“What?”Gwyneth shrieked.“No.You cannot.Iam your betrothed.I am to be lady of North Shore Keep.”
Ignoring the still-shrieking Gwyneth, Roarkclosed the chasm between him and Alina with sure, steady strides,took both her hands in his, and grinned, slow, easy, andmelting.
“Will you marry me, my curious little owl?”he asked.“Will you consent to be my wife and take me as yourhusband?To ask me why every day and night for the rest of ourlives?”He stepped in closer and whispered in her ear.“Will you bemy wife in this world and ours, where the consequences andrepercussions of our actions will matter to more than onlyourselves?”
Alina stared into eyes as warm, soft, andgiving as summer rain.Eyes that poured a deep, enduring love intohers.“Yes,” she said, answering him as she almost had the night ofSpring’s Eve by the lake.As her heart had answered him every nightsince.“Yes, I will marry you, sir stag.With pleasure and withhonor.”
Roark laid his open palm on her cheek.“Tha thu braegha,” he whispered huskily.
Alina placed her hand on his cheek, rubbingthe pad of her thumb over his freckled cheek.“Ni ye henpiaoling.”
Loud sniffing caught their attention, andthey turned to where Bors and Han stood.
“What?”Bors said, tears tracking down hischeeks.“I’m not crying.”He elbowed a grinning Han in the side.“He’s crying.”
EPILOGUE
“Mama, Mama, Mama.”
Alina straightened from over the seed bedshe’d been planting, wiped her soil-covered hands on her apron, andturned in time to brace herself for the onslaught of her sonbarreling into her legs.
“What is it, Owain?”she laughed, snatchinghim up and twirling him around.
“Da wet me wook in pie gwas.”
“He did?”she said as he squirmed out of herarms.“What did you see in the spyglass?”
“I see wagon.I see Unco Wen dwivewagon.”
“You saw Uncle Owen driving the wagon?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Mama, Mama, Mama.”
Alina grinned as her daughter came skippinginto the greenhouse.“What is it, Oona?”
“I see wagon in pie gwass.”
“Did you?”She scooped up her daughter andnuzzled her neck, eliciting girlish giggles.“Was Uncle Owendriving the wagon?”
“Uh-huh.”Oona wiggled her way out of Alina’sarms and started inspecting the herbs that had made it through thewinter.“What dis?”
“That,” Alina told her, “is fennel.”
“Is fenny?”Oona said, whisking her toddler’sfingers though the herb’s ferny leaves.
Alina laughed lightly.“So it is,” she said.“Fenny ferny fennel.”
