Although she was still in a goodly amount of pain, Keevah’s heart was filled near to bursting with all the love she had for Lachlan, as well as her daughter. ’Twas still difficult to speak as her voice was still hoarse from all the screaming she’d done the night she’d been abducted.
Today was far too special to allow the memories of that night to squirm their way inside. Later, mayhap after they arrived at their new home, she would bring up the matter of the Inverness Slasher. For now, she was simply content knowing Lachlan had killed him. The bloody bastard would never be able to harm another woman again.
Lachlan doused all but one candle before climbing into bed with his wife. He had sworn to himself that he would wait until she had regained some of her strength before making love to her.
But as soon as she slipped off her chemise and snuggled in beside him, that promise faded like fog in the afternoon sun.
They made slow, tender love to each other, intently, methodically exploring each other’s bodies. Tender, amorous kisses, soft gentle caresses that neither of them wanted to end filled the next hour or two of their night.
It took every ounce of willpower Keevah owned not to cry out in ecstasy when her release finally washed over her. Thrilling, intense, intoxicating. Lachlan’s soon followed.
Any pain she’d felt before was gone. Something akin to bliss and joy came over her and she couldn’t help but to cry. There were a hundred different things she wanted to tell him but didn’t have the strength. Nay, she hadn’t come to their marital bed an innocent blushing bride.
But the way he made love to her? ’Twas unlike anything she had ever experienced before. He wasn’t there to slake his own desires. Nay, he was claiming her, letting her know with every touch, every kiss, every tender word that he loved her.
Worried he’d hurt her, Lachlan lifted his head and asked, “Are ye well? Did I hurt ye?”
Sobbing, she shook her head. “That was beautiful.”
Feeling rather proud, he rolled onto his back, pulling her to lie beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder wrapping her arm around his chest and held him as if her life depended on it.
“I love ye, Keevah,” he whispered as he caressed her arm and kissed the top of her head.
Swiping away her tears, she said, “I love ye, more than I ever thought possible.”
They had slept like the dead and would have been content to sleep longer had Brigid not wakened them early the next morn. “I am hungry,” she told them. She was adorable with her tousled hair and sleepy eyes. “And I has to pee.”
They all tended to their morning ablutions, dressed, and went below stairs to break their fast. Brigid, they soon learned, was, unlike her mother, very much an early bird. She happily chatted away as she ate her porridge and eggs. “Are there other children to play with?” she asked, referring to the new home they’d be heading to.
“Aye,” Lachlan replied.
“Do ye think they will play with me?” she asked, shoving a big bite of porridge into her mouth.
He assured her they would, even though he wasn’t certain yet exactly what he’d be going home to. Hopefully there hadn’t been any further insurrections in his absence.
As they packed their belongings, he sent a silent prayer heavenward that Jamie and Fergus had been able to keep the peace. The image of them being attacked by the Chisolm clan bounced into his thoughts on more than one occasion.
Keevah hadn’t brought much with her; in truth, she thought she’d only be in Inverness a day or two at most. Poor Brigid had even fewer belongings. Packing took very little time at all.
They walked out of the inn into the bright winter morning. Lachlan’s men had readied the horses that brought them here. They had also purchased a very mild-mannered mare for Keevah to ride. Brigid insisted on riding with Lachlan.
Down the cobblestone streets of Inverness, they rode. ’Twas difficult to tell who was most relieved or excited to be away from the city. In the end, it didn’t matter.
They had ridden for nearly two hours before Brigid asked a most poignant question. “Are there bad men where we are goin’?”
“Nay, lass,” he told her. Could his answer be considered a lie? Honest to God he truly didn’t know what they’d be returning home to.
“Because ye sent them all to hell?”
Lachlan chuckled. “Aye lass.”
“Good,” she smiled up at him. “I dunnae like bad men.”
“Neither do I, lass. Neither do I.”
’Twas after noonin’ time the following day before they reached the gates of their new home. Lachlan was relieved to see it was still standing and that it was MacCullough and MacDougall men manning the walls.
Brigid’s eyes grew wide in amazement, the same expression her mother bore. “It is huge!” Brigid proclaimed. “It is beautiful!”
Lachlan agreed with the former, but not the latter. For now, he’d reserve his opinion on the place until after he received his reports from Jamie and Fergus.
The men on the wall called out their greetings and soon the gates were being opened. Lachlan handed Brigid off to Keevah before leading them through. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, just in case.
The courtyard was filled with people. Wholly unlike the first time he had arrived. Children ran and played, women stood in huddled groups chatting away.
As soon as they saw Lachlan approach, they all raced toward him. “Welcome back, Laird!” they began to call out.
For a brief moment, he wasn’t certain if he’d suffered an injury to his head and was now hallucinating.
They followed them into the inner bailey where stable boys rushed out to take their horses. Lachlan dismounted; a look of utter confusion etched on his face. He helped Brigid down first and handed her to one of his men.
After helping Keevah dismount, he kept her protectively close to his side. Sensing his unease, Keevah said, “What is the matter?”
He shook his head. “I am nae certain. They are all bein’ … nice.”
From the look she gave him, she thought him daft. He hadn’t taken the time to warn her about the Chisolms. Of course, there hadn’t been much time these past days, what with a madman killin’ women and all that.
Looking around the bailey, his eyes lit on something highly unusual. A very auld looking man who was missing a leg.
Jamie and Fergus came bounding down the stairs and greeted him with broad smiles and slaps on the back.
“What the bloody hell is goin’ on?” Lachlan exclaimed in a whisper.
“Well, it seems yer stance on sendin’ people away for no good reason, had a profound impact on the clan’s opinion of ye.”
Incredulous, all he could do was stand with mouth agape. “Ye have got to be jestin’.”
A wry grin came to Jamie’s face. “Nay, Laird MacCullough, I dunnae jest.”
“Many of those who had been sent away have returned. There are a few, however, who rather liked livin’ in the forest. Either way, the people are truly happy.”
Lachlan’s attention was pulled away when he saw Murdoch running across the bailey. A very comely woman, with hair graying at her temples was rushing towards him. “Mum!” Murdoch called out as he scooped the woman up and twirled her around.
“I cannae believe my own eyes,” Lachlan said with a shake of his head. “I just cannae believe it.”
Brigid had squirmed her way out of the warrior’s arms and ran to Lachlan’s side. She slipped her hand into his and stared inquisitively at Jamie and Fergus.
“What have we here?” Jamie asked.
“This is my daughter, Brigid.”
The two men were stunned. “I dinnae ken ye had a daughter,” Fergus said.
Lachlan smiled. “She came with my bride.” Gently, he pulled Keevah to his side and smiled at his friends.
Once they got over the shock of what Lachlan had told them, they bowed at their waists and greeted her. “Welcome, m’lady.”
As they were heading towards the
keep, Murdoch approached with his mother in tow. “Laird! Laird!” he called out.
Their procession came to a halt as a very happy Murdoch Chisolm introduced his mother. “This is me mum, Elsbeth. Mum, this is our new laird, Lachlan MacCullough.”
She smiled warmly and curtsied. “’Tis a pleasure, laird, a true pleasure.”
“I ken ye want to be gettin’ yer wife settled,” Murdoch began. “But there is somethin’ important we need to do first.”
Curious, Lachlan crossed his arms over his chest. “And what might that be?”
Murdoch withdrew his sword. Jamie and Fergus were upon him in an instant. Murdoch laughed and struggled against their tight hold. “I am only meanin’ to offer my fealty, ye dirty buggers.”
Lachlan gave a curt nod to his men and ordered them to release Murdoch. Murdoch shrugged himself out of their grip and smiled. Firmly, he thrust his sword into the earth at Lachlan’s feet. He knelt on one knee and bowed his head. “I, Murdoch Chisolm, hereby swear my fealty to ye, Lachlan MacCullough. As long as there is breath in my body, ye have my loyalty and my arm.”
In a matter of moments, more Chisolms were surrounding Lachlan and swearing their fealty to him.
Sensing his abject confusion, Fergus leaned in and whispered, “Give them yer thanks, laird. We shall explain everythin’ else to ye later.”
Looking at the rapidly filling bailey, Lachlan’s heart swelled with pride and a good measure of relief. He raised his arm high and shouted, “Unity for us! Unity for Scotland!”
The crowd erupted into cheers, hands waving high, repeating the chant, “Unity for us! Unity for Scotland!”
That night, they feasted on roast goose, pheasant, and venison. Platter after platter of succulents, vegetables, and sweets were brought to the high table.
Lachlan sat on the bench with his men. He still refused to sit in the previous laird’s chair. He also made it known he had no desire for a new one. He preferred to be seen as an equal to his men.
Keevah and Brigid sat to his left, Jamie and Fergus to his right. They ate and drank fine wine and copious amounts of ale without the worry of being poisoned.
This was not the same clan he had left behind.
Musicians played near the hearth as the gathering room was filled near to bursting with clanspeople. Those who hadn’t been in the bailey upon his arrival, now filed in. A long line had formed and one by one, these people who a week ago despised and loathed him, were now giving him their fealty.
It hadn’t taken might or strength to gain their loyalty or trust. Nay, this was fealty born from their hearts. Hearts that had missed those family members who had been sent away over the years. Hearts filled with a renewed sense of hope for their future. Gone now was the fear of being imperfect or ill or injured. Those days were long gone.
“Honest to God, I dinnae believe the place would still be standin’,” Lachlan admitted to Jamie and Fergus. “I feared I would come back to an insurrection or rubble.”
Jamie downed his ale and let out a loud belch. “I must admit, there were many times I thought the same. But as soon as ye made the proclamation that all were welcome that no one else would be sent away, everything changed.”
Fergus nodded with a mouthful of venison. “The verra next day, people began goin’ to the forest in search of their family members who’d been sent away. Word spread like fire, and before we kent it, more and more people were comin’ back.”
Keevah had been listening intently. “I cannae believe their old laird would do such a thing.”
“’Twas a surprise to all of us,” Lachlan said.
“I am glad ye put a stop to it,” she said, smiling proudly at him. “Ye are a fine laird, MacCullough.”
Lachlan looked out at the crowded room. Oh, how his life had changed these past few months.
Behind him was his past; a life filled with heartache and sorrow and loneliness.
Beside him sat the love of his life and her daughter. His heart swelled with joy and pride. God had certainly blessed him, more than he thought he deserved.
Ahead of him was a bright future, one he had never dared dream of. Hope. Hope for a prosperous clan. Hope for a united Scotland.
His quiet reverie was broken by Brigid tugging on his sleeve. She kept tugging until he leaned over to listen. “I has to pee.”
Epilogue
Ewan MacHolmes sat in his semi-dark room staring at the figure on the bed. The healer he had hired had worked for days to keep the man from dying. There were many moments when he was certain the man had succumbed to his injuries, only to be surprised long moments later by his rapid breaths.
The ravages of his injuries, the loss of blood, and the subsequent ravaging fevers had left him almost unrecognizable. Gaunt with sunken eyes, dry, gray skin… he’d lost so much weight he rather resembled a skeleton covered in skin.
The healer had left that morn, his pocket filled with Ewan’s silver. “There is nothin’ else I can do,” he had told him.
“Just remember to keep yer mouth closed.”
Now, twas the middle of the night and the man still clung to life.
Ewan had a thousand questions he needed to ask him. Something deep within needed answers. Why? What possessed ye to do such a thing? What were ye thinkin’? How did ye come to this?
The man coughed, softly at first, but soon, his body racked, the bed shaking as the rattling in his chest increased. Ewan held his head as he held a cup to his lips. “Drink.”
There was no warmth to his voice. Up until the moment he discovered the truth about him, Ewan would have given his life for the sick and dying man. But now? The only reason he wanted him alive was so that he could ask all those burning questions racing in his mind and heart.
The cough quieted and for the first time in days, the madman opened his eyes. He squinted in the darkness, his eyes glassy and unfocused.
For a long, long moment the two men stared at one another. Ewan’s eyes were filled with pain and contempt. His foe’s? Soulless dark eyes glowered at him.
After an interminable time, the man took in a deep breath and smiled. ’Twas not the smile Ewan remembered from his youth. Nay, this was a malevolent, hateful smile. “Brother.”
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Also by Suzan Tisdale
The Clan MacDougall Series
Laiden’s Daughter
Findley’s Lass
Wee William’s Woman
McKenna’s Honor
The Clan MacDougall Boxed Set
The Clan Graham Series
Rowan’s Lady
Frederick’s Queen
The Mackintoshes and McLarens Series
Ian’s Rose
The Bowie Bride
Rodrick the Bold
Brogan’s Promise
The MacCulloughs
Black Richard’s Heart
Lachlan’s Heart
The Clan McDunnah Series
A Murmur of Providence
A Whisper of Fate
A Breath of Promise
The Clan McDunnah Boxed Set
Moirra’s Heart Series
Stealing Moirra’s Heart
Saving Moirra’s Heart
Stand Alone Novels
Isle of the Blessed
Forever Her Champion
The Edge of Forever
In the Echo of a Kiss
The MacAllens and Randalls Series:
Secrets of the Heart
The Daughters of Moirra Dundotter Series:
Mariote
Esa
Muriale
Orabilis
The Brides of the Clan MacDougall
(A Sweet Series)
Aishlinn
Maggy
Nora
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling Author, storyteller and cheeky wench, SUZAN TISDALE
lives in the Midwest with her verra handsome carpenter husband. All but one of her children have left the nest. Her pets consist of dust bunnies and a dozen poodle-sized, backyard-dwelling groundhogs – all of which run as free and unrestrained as the voices in her head. And she doesn’t own a single pair of yoga pants, much to the shock and horror of her fellow authors. She prefers to write in her pajamas.
Suzan writes Scottish historical romance/fiction, with honorable and perfectly imperfect heroes and strong, feisty heroines. And bad guys she kills off in delightfully wicked ways.
She published her first novel, Laiden’s Daughter, in December, 2011, as a gift for her mother. That one book started a journey which has led to more than twenty published titles. To date, she has sold more than 650,000 copies of her books around the world. They have been translated into Italian, French, German, and Spanish.
You will find her books in digital, paperback, and audiobook formats.
If you’d like to know more about upcoming releases you can sign up for email notifications at: https://www.suzantisdale.com/newsletter
Lachlan's Heart: Book Two of The MacCulloughs Page 17
