Page 105 of Forbidden Kilted Highlander

Lady Armstrong blinked at him, brows lifting slightly, surprised. But then her gaze slid to Agnes, who was now sitting with Isolde in her arms, cooing softly. The baby let out a gurgled laugh.

Lady Armstrong stared for a long moment. Then she turned back to Tav. “Will she be yer wife?”

Tav didn’t hesitate. “Aye,” he said, quiet and sure.

Agnes looked up, her cheeks pink but her eyes steady. “I’d be more than happy tae care fer yer daughter,” she said. “Truly.”

Something in Lady Armstrong softened. Her shoulders lowered, a sigh escaping her lips like something unspoken had been carried too long. “Then… aye,” she said at last. “Let her grow up where she’ll be safe. Where she’ll be loved.”

Agnes smiled down at the babe in her arms. “She already is.”

After speaking with Lady Armstrong, Tav and Agnes stepped out into the crisp afternoon light. The camp stretched wide before them, tents flapping in the breeze, the last embers of the fire still curling toward the sky. Word had already spread.

As they walked between the rows of tents, the soldiers rose to their feet, one by one, until the whole line stood. Then came the chant, low but certain.

“Laird Armstrong, at yer service.”

Tav blinked, stunned by the sound of it. Dozens of voices, rough and loyal, speaking his name not with fear, but with trust. With hope.

He felt Agnes slip her hand into his. She gave it a squeeze and lifted her chin with pride.

Later, they found a quiet hill beyond the edge of the camp, overlooking the glen. Just the two of them. The wind tugged at Agnes’ hair as she leaned into him, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Is it mad,” she said softly, “but I can see it now, the future. A real one. Nay war. Nay blood. Just... gardens. Babies. Morning bread and midwinter feasts.”

Tav smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “That sounds like heaven.”

She turned to look at him. “We’ll build it together, aye?”

“Aye,” he said, eyes shining. “Day by day. I’ll never let it fall.”

And in that moment, surrounded by light and wind and the quiet promise of peace, they knew. They had made it home.