“I wanted tae beg yer pardon in the part I played in yer imprisonment,” Aimil said, her face filled with shame, still not looking at her. “Padraig had imprisoned the man I love, my betrothed, for not being able tae pay his rent. He told me he’d show him mercy if I spied on the other servants when rumor spread that Latharn MacUisdean had returned. He—he asked me tae follow any servant who was new and took long absences from the castle. I remembered that ye’d asked about Laird MacUisdean being alive, so I followed ye during one of yer visits tae see him; 'tis how I kent ye were a spy. I—I didnae want tae tell Padraig, but if I hadnae told him something, he’d have killed my betrothed.” Aimil closed her eyes, tears spilling. “If ye want tae imprison me, tae exile me . . . I understand.”
Latharn’s mouth tightened, but he looked at Evelyn.
“I’ll let ye decide,” he muttered.
Evelyn studied Aimil, her heart warming with sympathy. She knew what it meant to do anything for the man you loved.
“I understand, Aimil. Ye’re forgiven,” she said gently.
Evelyn looked at Latharn, who gave her a grudging nod.
“Ye’ll return tae yer post, but if ye ever seek tae betray me . . ." Latharn told Aimil, his voice trailing off with warning.
“I willnae,” Aimil said. She looked up at Evelyn, shaking as she wiped her eyes. “I thank ye, Laird MacUisdean. Thank ye, Eibhlin.”
As Aimil left, Latharn turned to her and started to speak, but he was interrupted by another noble.
“Laird MacUisdean, I was hoping we could continue our discussion about ye wedding my niece, Ceit. She's a fine lass who—”
Evelyn turned and hurried out of the hall, not wanting to hear anything more about his potential bride, anguish swirling in the depths of her stomach.
You will leave before he marries someone else, she reassured herself. She’d done what she came here to do, and Latharn was in his rightful place. She could nurse her broken heart when she returned to her own time.
* * *
Evelyn didn't see Latharn for the rest of the day. A new laird was a busy man, with a stream of visitors and nobles either swearing fealty or asking him for favors. She remained in her guest chamber, telling herself she needed to rest before embarking on the trip to Tairseach—and back through time. But she knew she was only fooling herself. She wanted to avoid hearing about Latharn's new bride.
She remained in her chamber even during that night's feast; Aoife brought her meal to her room, where she ate alone, trying not to think about who Latharn had chosen for his bride, and trying not to wonder why he hadn't sent for her—or visited her chamber—before she fell into a restless sleep.
By the time she awoke the next morning, she decided that she couldn't stay for tonight's celebratory gathering. The gathering would be a perfect place for Latharn to announce whom he'd chosen to wed, and her heart couldn't take even hearing the name of his future bride.
She left her chamber after washing and changing into a gown comfortable enough for travel, her heart heavy. She had to find Horas to escort her south to Tairseach. She couldn't face Latharn to say goodbye; it would break her heart to face him.
Evelyn stepped out into the corridor, freezing as she saw Crisdean approaching her chamber.
“Where are ye going, lass?”
“I’m leaving,” she said, forcing a smile. “I—I should return home. I’ve stayed longer than I intended."
“My brother wants tae see ye in the great hall," Crisdean said with a frown.
“Send him my apologies, but I should—"
“Please, Evelyn,” he said, and she started, looking at him in surprise at the use of her real name. “My brother may have told me some things about ye," he added, with a knowing look. "But after this, ye have my word I’ll escort ye tae Tairseach if ye donnae want tae stay.”
She swallowed hard. Had Latharn told Crisdean she was a time traveler? And what did Latharn want with her in the great hall?
After a brief moment of hesitation she nodded, trailing Crisdean down to the great hall.
When she entered, an ache spiraled through her at the sight of Latharn standing at the head table, surrounded by the nobles in all his finery: a dark tunic and a belted plaid kilt, no longer the humble servant but the laird and chieftain he was always meant to be.
His eyes met hers as she sat down at one of the long tables in the back of the hall next to Crisdean.
“As ye all ken, I must marry someone with strong ties to one of our allied clans—or one of yer kin, now that I am laird and chief,” Latharn said.
Evelyn’s heart lurched with pain, and tears stung her eyes. Is this why he’d wanted her to come to the great hall? Was he going to make her listen to him announce his bride?
“I’m here tae announce who I’ve chosen tae wed.”
Evelyn's eyes swam with tears. She lowered hear head, her stomach lurching. She got to her feet, needing to get away. Crisdean reached out to stop her.
“Evelyn—"
“I can’t listen to this,” she whispered, her heart too shattered to keep up her accent. She moved past him, tears spilling from her eyes. “I—have to go.”
“My betrothed's father once served this clan under my father, and he died for his loyalty. His daughter is fierce, proud, and strong. So fierce I’ve called her by the name of those creatures who dwell in faraway lands. Lioness.”
Evelyn was halfway to the door, but froze at Latharn’s words.
“She is the strongest lass I’ve ever kent. Many of ye have seen for yerselves how fierce she is as an archer. She’s risked her life for me—for this clan—by spying for me in this castle, toiling as a servant, undergoing torture when she was captured. But she kept fighting for me. Her father was a man ye all respected, a clan noble, yet she worked as a servant without pride. I want tae be a great leader for ye, but I can only be that leader if I have Eibhlin Aingealag O'Brolchan at my side—or Evelyn Angelica O’Brolchan, as her English mother called her, the name she prefers. Evelyn, the woman I love. And for those reasons, I choose her as my bride. My lady. If she'll have me.”
Evelyn slowly turned, her mouth dry. All eyes in the hall were trained on her.
Latharn stepped out from behind the table, approaching her, his eyes filled with raw emotion.
"If she'll have me," Latharn continued, as he approached her, "this brave lass will bear the MacUisdean name. My name. I choose her; there is no one worthier than her. 'Tis I who isnae worthy of her. But I hope she'll accept by my proposal." He knelt before Evelyn, taking both her hands in his. He spoke in a low tone now, for her ears only. “Will ye stay with me in this time and be my wife, Evelyn? All that I am, all that I have . . . 'tis yers. Including my heart.”
Evelyn met his eyes, her heart thundering in her chest, a joy she'd never known before sweeping over her. In his eyes, she saw love. In his eyes, she saw her future.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I love you so, Latharn MacUisdean.”
Latharn beamed, standing to lift her into his arms as the nobles shouted words of approval and congratulations, punctuated by shouts of “Lady MacUisdean!.”
But Evelyn was only aware of Latharn; the man she loved. Her present, her future. Her always.
“I love ye,” he whispered, his eyes locked with hers. “My Evelyn. Lady MacUisdean. Ye are my destiny.”
Epilogue
One Month Later
Kensa watched from the rear of the great hall as Evelyn and Latharn were wed, their eyes locked on each other with love as they spoke their vows. She smiled as the priest announced they were now husband and wife; Latharn pulled his new bride into his arms for a passionate kiss as the guests cheered.
Her gaze trailed from Evelyn and Latharn to two other couples that time, fate and magic had brought together; her niece Diana and Diana’s husband Artair, along with Niall and Caitria, who all sat at the same table, beaming as they watched Evelyn and Latharn seal their vows with a kiss.
Artair turned to Diana, his hand
lowering to his wife’s belly, which was just beginning to swell with the early stages of her pregnancy. Niall and Caitria locked eyes, and Caitria reached out to link her hand with Niall, who raised it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss on her palm.
Kensa had spent the last fortnight checking in on the couples that had been pulled together across time. Eadan and Fiona, who were now tucked away in Macleay Castle, happy parents to a newborn daughter. Kara and Eadan’s cousin Ronan, who often shared dinners with Eadan and Fiona, and took long walks along the path outside Ronan’s manor. Ciaran and Isabelle, Fiona’s close friend whom Fiona visited as often as she could, who was now in the latest stage of pregnancy with their first child. She’d watched Ciaran and Isabelle walk hand in hand through the courtyard of Aitharne Castle, Ciaran’s hand often drifting protectively to his pregnant wife’s belly, a smile of love spreading across his handsome features.
Watching the love that had pulled these couples together across centuries brought Kensa great joy. She felt her niece’s eyes on her across the hall, and she gestured for Kensa to join them. It was Diana who’d had Evelyn extend an invitation to her and Latharn’s wedding, though Kensa had yet to formally meet her.
Kensa’s gaze flicked back to Latharn and Evelyn, who now greeted their guests hand in hand as they were congratulated. From her place in the back of the hall, she could hear that Evelyn’s modern accent was starting to come through—ever so slightly. Diana had told Kensa that Evelyn planned to gradually slip back to her native accent over time, using the excuse of the lingering influence of her English mother. But given how the nobles of the clan had taken to Evelyn after she’d help fight for Latharn’s titles, as well as their new laird’s utter love and devotion to his bride, she suspected that no one would mind.
Evelyn had found her own way to this time, but Kensa had kept careful watch over her during this trip to the past, and the one she’d taken previously to make certain that nothing went awry, prepared to intervene if necessary. But once Evelyn crossed paths with Latharn, she knew it was only a matter of time before love bound the two of them together.
Kensa turned back to face her niece, merely giving her a subtle shake of her head. It was time for her to leave this time and return to the present. She would return from time to time to visit Diana, but she had served her purpose in this time for now.
Kensa took one last look at her couples before turning to slip from the hall without notice, a smile on her face, content that the strings of time, magic and fate had pulled her time travelers to when—and to whom—they belonged.
THE END
* * *
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Afterword
The origin of the idea for this series began with a simple image: a woman standing in a museum in modern day Scotland, struck by the familiarity of a painting that was created in the fourteenth century. I wondered—what if the painting caused her déjà vu because she was the one who painted it? What if she was a time traveler whose soul mate lived hundreds of years in the past? From there, the story pooled out of me, along with Kara and Ronan's, then Ciaran and Isabelle's, all the way to Evelyn and Latharn’s story. I find medieval Scotland utterly fascinating with such a rich, vivid history; it was the perfect time period to send my time travelers back to.
I tried to be historically accurate where possible, but given that this is a historical fantasy series featuring time travel, magic and witches . . . I did take some license. The biggest one is the language; Gaelic was the language spoken in the Scottish Highlands at this time, but given that my modern-day travelers didn't speak Gaelic, I used the distinctive Scottish brogue as a substitute. There was also, sadly, no kilts—at least not the ones we think of today. There was the precursor to the modern day kilt which was an outer garment called a “belted plaid" or a "great kilt” which is why I used the term "belted plaid" whenever I could.
I read many books and sources to delve into the time period, some of the most helpful sources include Life in the Middle Ages by Richard Winston, and The Time Traveler’s Guide to Medieval England by Ian Mortimer, among many, many others.
The clans in the series are all fictional, though I did take some inspiration from the famous age-long feud between the MacDougal and Campbell clans. Tairseach is fictional, but I think it would be fun if a place like that existed . . .
I had help bringing this series to life, and I'd like to take a moment to thank those who did so. I’d like to thank my amazingly talented cover designer, Kim Killion, for her lovely covers featuring the dashing Highlanders of the Highlander Fate series. I’d like to thank my wonderful editor and proofreaders including Paula, my primary editor / proofreader who is patient, thorough, and efficient. I’d also like to thank the narrator of the audio books, Liisa Ivary, for bringing my characters so vividly to life.
On a personal note, I’d like to thank Mr. Knight for being such a supporter, cheerleader, and my very own swoon-worthy hero that makes creating dashing Highland heroes a cinch.
But most of all? I’d like to thank each and every reader who stumbled across my books and took a chance on a new-to-them author and dived headfirst into my world. Thank you for all your kind messages telling me how much you love the series, the world, and most importantly the characters. I can’t tell you how much each message means to me—and how grateful I am to each of you for reading my books. Without you, I would be out of a job—and there would be no Highlander Fate series. So thank you, from the bottom of this grateful author’s heart.
I hope that you’ll stay in touch. You can join my newsletter, visit my website, or follow me on Facebook or Bookbub to be notified of upcoming releases—and to generally stay in touch. And feel free to drop me a line anytime, I love hearing from readers.
With love and gratitude,
Stella Knight
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About the Author
Stella Knight writes time travel romance and historical romance novels. She enjoys transporting readers to different times and places with vivid, nuanced heroes and heroines.
She resides in sunny southern California with her own swoon-worthy hero and her collection of too many books and board games. She’s been writing for as long as she can remember, and when not writing, she can be found traveling to new locales, diving into a new book, or watching her favorite film or documentary. She loves romance, history, mystery, and adventure, all of which you’ll find in her books.
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Latharn's Destiny: Highlander Fate Book Six Page 17