The McKinnon

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by James, Ranay


  Nic felt it again, just as he did the very first night she fell into his life. He felt the pieces of his life fitting back together. This woman was his destiny. She had never said she loved him, but that was all right. She cared for him, that much was certain and they were going to share this child. If he had doubts before about his being the father of this baby, he cast them aside as he placed his hand on her stomach and felt his baby moving.

  Morgan turned just a little to face Nic. “He is very active this morning.”

  “Our son has been through a lot. He seems strong.” Nic leaned in kissing the corner of her mouth.

  “Yes, like his father. Nic you have been through a lot, too." Reagan shared with her the wounds and scars on his body and some of how they had gotten there. "Talk to me and tell me where you were. Let me share that load with you.”

  He kissed her hair. “No, not right now. Just let me hold you and think only good thoughts. Just let me hold the two of you and keep you safe and warm.”

  As they lay there for a time in comfortable silence, basking in the feeling of each other’s nearness, Nic broke the silence.

  “I’m so proud of you, Morgan. You hung in there through all of this. I cannot believe I am here and you are with me. I am home. I have so much to be thankful for.”

  “As do I, Love. Cullen and I were worried sick. I thought all those months you were just silent because I had asked you to set me free, but when Cullen told me he had not heard from you, my heart stopped. I thought I had lost you, Nic. It was then I knew no matter what had happened or was to happen, I was still deeply in love with you, and time or distance wasn't going to change that fact.”

  “Say that again, please, just so I’m sure I heard it right. Say that you love me.” Nic tightened his hold on her.

  She sat up and looked down at him. She took his hand and brought it to her mouth then kissed it. “I love you, Nic. I love you with every fiber of my being. If you believe nothing else in this crazy world, you must believe that I love you. I think I have loved you from the moment I first woke in the arms of a stranger.” She looked deep into his eyes, her pause weighted. “Nic?”

  “Hum?” Nic propped himself up on his elbow.

  “Will you marry me?” Morgan asked.

  Nic sat up fully. “No, Morgan. I have already spoken my vows to you once already, and I meant every word of those vows. I am humbled and it would be my honor to spend the balance of my mortal life making you happy. So, the question should be, will you marry me?”

  “Yes. Yes, I will marry you.”

  Nic kissed her tenderly. “I am truly home.”

  Chapter 90

  “A week from today?” Mary was flustered with Nic’s request to organize an event of this magnitude in so short a time. “Oh, my Lord, how can I possible pull off a wedding in less than a week? Your Grace, it will take me at least a month to do it justice.”

  “Mary, I have faith in your abilities. It need not be a lavish affair. After all, we are already married, and it is more an affirmation ceremony.” Nic’s calm reply did not appease her.

  “Nic, would you rob her, again of a glorious day? No, no, no, we will do this, and do this right. A week ye' say and not a day more?”

  Nic laughed softly, shaking his head. “Not a day more.”

  “Very well, let’s get to work. It will be beautiful if it kills me.”

  Mary turned, already in a whirl of activity. Nic smiled. She always did love a challenge.

  Chapter 91

  Good to her word one week later, Mary had managed to plan the event. All the were arrangements done, a wedding menu fit for the King himself had been prepared, Morgan’s dress was ready, and the word sent out as far and wide as the limited time frame would allow.

  Reagan did her part to assist with what she could, but found her days filled doing what she did best. She tended the wounds and sick coming in throughout the week. Word was beginning to spread there was a competent healer living at Featherstone. In the last two days, she had delivered two babies, set a broken arm of a local village boy, lanced boils, stitched up several guardsmen, and pulled a bean out of a child’s nose.

  Connor had noticed.

  He was sure his men had taken to developing reasons to seek out the pretty Irishwoman. He was keeping an eye on her, but for different reasons than a week ago. She fascinated him with her easy ways with people, and her love of the children. He saw clearly there would have never been any way she would have harmed Morgan even if she had wanted Nic in the bargain. Cruelty was not in her nature.

  He has sought her out to apologize fully the morning after Nic had returned and could not find her. However, she had left him word that she was off to the village to do some restocking of her stores, and hoped he would manage to find sufficient responsibilities to keep him busy without the alternative of following her around. However, she had asked that if he had an extra bit of time, then she needed a few items and would be grateful if he could find them for her. Her list was not long, so Connor saw no harm in getting those items for her himself. She, in turn, left a note of thanks slipped under his study door the next evening.

  However, after a week, Connor was not sure that Reagan was not purposely avoiding him. So, he had yet to apologize, wishing he had done so the night in the stables.

  He had devised a plan and after the wedding, he was going to set that plan into motion.

  As if his thoughts had conjured her, Connor saw Reagan walking around the corner of the blacksmith’s shop with Morgan in tow. The two were laughing softly about something, and the ladies beamed brightly in the early fall morning.

  Nic was a lucky man, Connor thought as he watched the two ladies. Marriage suited Nic these days. He guessed the right woman could make all the difference. He watched the two women as they disappeared from view. Yes, the right woman makes all the difference.

  Chapter 92

  Hundreds of burning candles filled the Chapel casting a beautiful glow. It was a welcoming contrast to the waning daylight. Nic was standing at the front of the chapel with Connor and Cullen when Reagan stepped through the door just ahead of the bride. She looked lovely in the deep emerald green dress that Mary, by some miracle, had conjured.

  I must compliment Reagan on her choice of color, Connor thought.

  Her dress suited her superbly, setting off her clear creamy skin and beautiful copper hair. Just like Ireland, she looked lush and enchanting.

  Cullen stepped forward extending his forearm. Reagan placed her hand gently on his arm, awarding him with a smile Connor suddenly wished was for him. As Cullen led her to her place of honor, Morgan stepped into the arched stone doorway.

  Nic was completely disarmed.

  She began to walk toward him with a smile. She was here to marry him, and she wished it with all her heart. Nic stepped down to greet her. Taking her hand, he placed it on his arm. Smiling, he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  “You are a vision before my eyes. Shall we do this?” he asked lovingly.

  “Yes, let us do this.” Morgan smiled, looking up into Nic’s eyes. He appeared different with his hair cut short, but he was still beautiful to her.

  “Then come, my love, the good Father waits.”

  Walking back the short distance to the altar, Nic and Morgan faced the priest for a second time.

  The small chapel fell silent.

  “It is my pleasure today to reunite this couple. The first time I united them was not a happy occasion. With death so close, the faith and hope Nic felt kept his beautiful Lady alive. They have had a journey fraught with danger, misunderstanding, and hurt. Yet, their love for each other has overcome these. Our good book says, ‘to abide faith, hope, and love, but the greatest of these is love.’ These two before you today are testament to love being the greatest. So, let us today witness as they reaffirm their commitment to each other.”

  Nic’s clear and sure voice rang true for all to hear as he spoke his vows.

  “Morgan, please accept this ring
as a sign of my love for you. Its circle represents the love I feel. It has no end.” Nic slipped the ring on Morgan’s finger. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Please do not throw this at me, it could do me damage.” He winked. “It reminded me of your eyes.”

  Morgan looked down at the enormous emerald resting on her finger. “I have nothing for you,” she whispered back.

  “Oh, yes you do,” he said as he placed his hand on her rounded abdomen and smiled.

  “May we continue now?” The priest said humorously.

  “Yes, Father, we're sorry. Please continue,” Nic said then smiled.

  “Morgan Alana Pembridge, Seventh Duchess of Seabridge do you vow to honor, obey, and support this man? Do you so vow to raise his needs above your own, and love his children and raise them in the ways of the one true church? Do you vow to see to his happiness in all ways and to be devoted to him in sickness and health until your life leaves this one for the next?”

  “Nic, my love, I vow to trust you with my life and the lives of our children and to accept you are acting with our best interest in mind and heart. I vow to be there to support you in whatever endeavors you seek. And whatever hardships come our way, we will face them together. As a symbol of my love, please accept my gift to you. For today before these witnesses, I release you from your vow. I shall never ask for my freedom for I am already free.”

  She had released him from his vow. It was a great gift indeed. Nic looked down into the eyes of the woman he was marrying. It was so right this love he felt for her. “Thank you for loving me,” Nic whispered for only her ears to hear.

  “You, my husband, are very welcome.”

  Chapter 93

  Morgan and Nic left the chapel through a throng of well-wishers. It was common knowledge of how the first ceremony had taken place, and this second service was cause for a celebration.

  Walking out of the chapel, Nic’s senses went on high alert. The crowd made Nic nervous. Brentwood was still a major concern, and they had captured a spy just that very morning. He was certain Brentwood would have gotten word by now that Morgan was back with him. He would also know that Reagan was here and had been the one to help him escape.

  Nic’s instincts as a warrior, husband, and father were to go out immediately, hunt him down, and run him through.

  However, he and Morgan just reunited, and he still feared for her well-being and that of his child. He was certain Morgan would not take the news well should he decide to make good his promise to remove her uncle forever.

  He, Connor and Cullen decided they would sit tight through the next three months, wait for the baby’s birth, and then seek vengeance come spring. He would use this time to regain his full strength and let Brentwood stew on exactly when he would strike.

  “Nic, be at ease.” Morgan pulled on his sleeve. “You look like you are about to charge into battle.”

  Morgan had felt him tense when they walked out into the crowd. The thought had crossed her mind that her uncle might have the brass to come. There had been plenty of time for him to get here, and the gates were open. Surely, he would not be so bold as to walk into Featherstone with Nic, Cullen, and Connor all in residence and the two hundred armed men Connor had at his immediate disposal.

  Morgan pushed the vile thought aside. She was going to enjoy this day. Brentwood had destroyed so much of her life, and she refused to let him have this day, too.

  Morgan thought the chapel was lovely, but the Great Hall was fabulous. Mary had strung garlands with fall leaves, brightly blazing with color. Hundreds of candles burned, giving the room a glow resembling gold and brilliant yellow gems. Food and wine was plentiful.

  Nic and Morgan were in the place of honor at the head of the table along with Reagan and Connor as host.

  Once everyone sat down, Connor stood to deliver the wedding toast as the Great Hall fell silent.

  “I have known Nic most all my life. Nic, I am honored to call you friend and brother, though no common blood flows through our veins. We have fought beside each other, we have fought for each other, and we have fought with each other. I have gone drinking with you and dragged your sorry carcass out of several young damsels’ beds just before their father had a chance to kill you. Or worse, make you wed that daughter.”

  There were good-natured whoops and male laughter that filled the hall. Connor let the laughter die down and continued.

  “Nic, I have seen you angry, I have seen you laugh, and I have seen you harden as life has a tendency to do to us, but I have never seen you love. That is until now.”

  Connor then turned to Morgan.

  “And Morgan, the day you choose to ride that brute of a horse, fate propelled you not only off that horse, but also down a path. That path was not only to change your life, but Nic’s as well. You being here has changed him. He is not made weaker, but made stronger, for now he has two good reasons to live. Woe to the enemy who foolishly dares threaten that which he loves so fiercely.”

  Conner then turned back to face the hall.

  “Friends, rise with me and let us lift our cups to these two.” The Hall filled with standing well-wishers. “May you love long and live happy.”

  Cheers rose across the crowd and became even louder as Nic kissed Morgan full on the mouth, branding her for all to see. Morgan blushed as if she were a new bride and smiled radiantly at Nic.

  Cullen stood at the back of the hall watching the woman he desperately loved be delivered forever and irrevocably into the hands of his brother.

  Slipping out unnoticed, he made his way to his quarters. The bottle under his arm would be his companion for the night.

  Chapter 94

  The feast was magnificent. The entertainment was good for such short notice, and the Great Hall was warm and smelled of fresh spice boiling over the fire. Morgan was content. Turning to her left, she noticed Reagan was staring blankly into her platter.

  “Reagan, are you all right?” Morgan asked as she placed a hand on the forearm of her new friend.

  “Yes, your Grace, I am fine. What is the not to be fine about?” Reagan’s smile did not reach her eyes.

  “Reagan, do not call me ‘Your Grace’ and you know well what I’m asking.”

  “Morgan, I'm fine. Don’t be concerned about me. I'm content enough. I am freely practicing my medicine. I have food to eat, I’m not worried about protecting myself, and I have a roof over my head. I count myself fortunate. I have new friends like you, Cullen, and Nic.”

  “What about Connor?”

  “Connor?” she shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Do I hear a ‘but’ in there somewhere?” Morgan watched her friend as Reagan unconsciously looked at the door.

  Reagan studied her folded hands in her lap a moment before looking back to meet Morgan’s young, but wise face.

  “Yes, there is a ‘but’ there.”

  Morgan and Reagan had come to know each other so well in a short time

  "Do I need to convince you to stay?” Morgan asked softly, wanting no one else to hear.

  "I will stay until the baby is born. I will not entrust your delivery to anyone else. After that, who knows?” She shrugged her shoulders. “We’ll see.”

  “Once you leave you will be very far away, I feel that."

  "Distance is relative. Time is not," Reagan said flatly.

  "I understand, Rea. I miss you already.” Morgan gave Reagan a small hug just as Nic interrupted them.

  Nic stood behind her to the right, and extended his hand in support for her to stand. “Morgan, please dance with me.”

  Standing, Morgan let her husband lead her to the floor, leaving Connor and Reagan at the table. Connor seized the opportunity to speak with Reagan, moving down the table and taking the seat vacated by Morgan.

  “Good evening, Reagan. You look very nice tonight. The color becomes you. You should dress such more often.”

  “Are you saying I do not look nice in the clothes I normally wear?”

  Re
agan did not know why she had the urge to provoke him, but it was there nonetheless. They had not spoken since the week before in the stables. She wanted to keep their interaction that way.

  Reagan was not so foolish to think that she would not have to deal with him some tonight, but she felt exposed after having had the conversation with Morgan.

  “No, that is not what I’m saying. The clothes you wear serve the purpose. It would not be wise or practical to wear anything but such garments to birth a lamb.”

  She stood gracefully then looked down at Connor. He knew he had said something wrong, but for the life of him could not figure it out. She was fleeing his company in every sense of the word.

  “Ahh, still checking up on me, I see. Thank you for the fashion critique, English. My garments are unattractive and only serviceable. I'll tuck that back for future reference. Now, if you will excuse me, I have promised the next dance to David Hale, and a promise is a promise.”

  Reagan walked away to find David. She liked the young man and enjoyed his company.

  Connor watched her weave though the crowd to meet David. He was smiling at her as she approached and bowed over her hand. Connor did not miss David placing his hand at the small of Reagan’s back in a gesture any man would recognize as possessive.

  Well, he would put a stop to this and soon. Connor would let David know she was well above his station, and even if Reagan did not admit the fact, she was still the daughter of an English Earl.

  Chapter 95

  Hours later, and in the privacy of their chambers, Nic propped himself up on one elbow and smoothed hair away from Morgan’s face. They had made just love for the first time since his return.

  Nic had approached Reagan earlier in the day and tried delicately to broach the subject, and in typical Reagan style, she made Nic feel comfortable with asking such an intimate question. She had assured him that he could indeed make love to his wife. As long as he was gentle with her, it would be fine, and she even gave him some suggestions about how to make Morgan more comfortable with her this far along in her pregnancy.

 

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