“Conn!”
Alf appeared behind them, Amice at his side. Alf raced to his brother, wrapping him in a bear hug that almost knocked him off his feet.
Leona cringed, knowing how Conn's wounds still ached sometimes. He went pale, but ruffled his younger brother's hair. “My brother,” he said. “I am so glad to see you again.”
“We thought you were dead!” Amice said frankly. Leona looked at her cousin and Amice blushed, covering her mouth. “Well, we did,” she insisted as she embraced Leona, squashing her older cousin till Leona thought she might stop breathing.
“Amice,” she smiled into the heart-shaped face, stroking her red hair. “I'm so pleased to see you.”
“Come inside!” Amice insisted. “Mother will have such a feast prepared! We want to hear all about it, and how you came back and how you came to be together and...”
As she chattered away excitedly, Alf and Conn following her up the steps into the great hall, Leona talked to Alina.
“So you are married, then, my daughter?” Alina asked softly.
“How did you..? Well, ignore that. Of course you knew,” Leona smiled fondly at her mother. “Oh, Mother! I missed you so! I love you.”
Alina relaxed. She smiled at Leona, all the tension draining out of her dark eyes. “Leona, my daughter. I sometimes thought you wished I was more like Amabel, worldlier, less...involved with the future,” she sighed. “I am glad to hear that you do not dislike me for it.”
“Oh, Mother!” Leona squeezed her hand, disbelief on her face. “How could you even think that? Yes, I found you hard to understand sometimes, but I do love you; so very much.”
Alina blinked and the two of them swallowed, trying not to cry. Then they went inside.
Aunt Amabel did indeed provide a feast.
Sitting in the great hall at the main table, the men-at-arms and serving staff packed in behind them, at the lower tables, Leona and Conn did their best to answer all the questions their family put to them.
“...And so we married in Bois,” Conn explained, squeezing Leona's hand for reassurance.
“I know it well,” Duncan, Leona's father, commented where he sat beside his wife. “A lovely town. We were there once, were we not, sweetling?”
“Many years ago,” Alina said with fond impatience.
They all laughed.
“Well,” Uncle Broderick, the thane of Dunkeld, said with a broad smile, “this calls for a celebration!” he stood, cup raised in hand. “To the newly-wedded pair! Lady Leona and Lord Conn!”
As the serving men and women and the men-at-arms and their wives and families took up the cry, beating against the boards and stamping their feet in applause, Leona turned to Conn and blushed. They were official.
Later, when they lay in bed together, Leona realized something. She turned to Conn in wonderment. “Conn, my sweet. I'm not pregnant.”
Conn looked at her, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You're not..?”
“No!”
They both laughed and then Leona cried, weeping with relief. She had not known how terribly the thought weighed on her, the possibility that they might have a child that was not Conn's. An eternal reminder of that awful event in the woods. Though she would have tried to love the child, she would always have known his origins and it would have been hard.
“Oh, Leona,” Conn whispered. “I am so glad. We're free of that. You're free of that.”
“We are,” Leona agreed. “I can forget now, in truth.”
She smiled and they made love with a passionate abandon that they had not known before, their love free to be expressed to its fullest. Leona felt as if she could truly trust Conn, truly give herself up to the passions that moved through her. It was a new, wonderful place of connection for them both.
As she lay beside him, her hair damp with perspiration, his body snuggled tight to hers, Leona realized that she was absolutely, completely happy.
“Conn,” she whispered, stroking his hair.
“Yes, my love?”
“I love you.”
Conn sat up and kissed her hair. “My sweetling,” he said, “I love you too. As big as the summer sky. As big as mountains. Forever and ever.”
They kissed.
They joined the family at the table for breakfast, and found that they had slotted in almost as if they had never left. The day stretched to a week, and the week to a fortnight.
Leona sat stitching a new dress in the solar. She heard footsteps in the hallway and smiled, recognizing them. “Conn?”
“Leona!” his face lit up when he saw her and she smiled.
“My dear.”
“Leona! I have...there is a messenger for you downstairs.”
“Oh?” Leona frowned. She stood, dusting a hand down the blue skirt of her gown. “Who is it?”
“It's best if you go down,” Conn demurred.
When Leona reached the hallway, she was tense with apprehension. To her amazement, she saw a face she recognized. “Allie? And Ferrier?”
Her maid grinned broadly. “We didn't mean to give you a fright, milady,” Allie explained.
“But what? How..?” Leona hugged her maid, feeling overwhelmed. “What are you doing here?”
Ferrier smiled. “His lordship the count sent us. He had...words with his overseer, Montaigne. They came up with a plan.”
“What plan?” Leona asked.
“Um...” Ferrier began. They spoke French, but Allie interrupted in her native tongue.
“Lady Leona, the land's yours!”
“What?” Leona stared at them.
Allie giggled and even solemn Ferrier had to smile.
He cleared his throat and took up the narrative. “My lady, the count, my master, truly did care for you. He decided that, since the land on his southern border has recently become larger...” he paused, letting the information sink in, then continued. “Since he, um, came into the land he had wanted, there is much land he no longer needs. He has decided to pass all of the eastern section on to you. As a gift,” he added.
Leona stared at him. “What?” Conn came to stand beside her and she gripped his hand, feeling as if she had just woken up in another world. “Conn,” she whispered.
“What, my dear?”
When Leona had finished explaining to him, he grinned at her.
“Leona. You mean...you mean all that land is ours?”
“Only the eastern part, my dear...”
“Leona!” he laughed, amazed. “That place is big enough to lose an army in!”
Leona looked at him in wonder. Then she too, smiled. “My dear, we are rich.”
He shook his head, smile broadening. “No, dear,” he said. “We were always rich. Now we are prosperous.”
Leona laughed, knowing what he meant. “Yes, my dear. We were always rich. We always had each other.”
Conn nodded. He drew her into his embrace and they held each other tightly. Leona closed her eyes and felt her heart thudding, her joy soaring like a lark, high above her head. She and Conn kissed, and when they drew apart, she smiled into his eyes. “I love you, Conn,” she whispered.
“And I love you too, Leona.”
The last part they said together, tears of joy running down her face. “I love you as big as the summer sky, as big as mountains. Forever and ever.”
EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
The sun sparkled on the green lawn. Leona, looking out over it from the upstairs window, felt an arm snake round her waist. She snuggled closer to her husband. She smiled, feeling safe in his arms.
“A beautiful day, yes?” Conn whispered as he kissed her.
Leona smiled and turned to face him, feeling warm inside. “Yes, dear. It is.”
They stood nestled close, his arm round her, her body glued to his. Outside, the sun rose a little higher. A lark called. A pail of water splashed in the yard, the sound carrying up to them.
“It is strange we ended up here,” Leona smiled, standing and leaning bac
k against Conn where he stood just at her shoulder. They were at their French home, surveying the grounds.
“It is, dear,” he said. He rested his hands on her waist, a palm splayed on her belly protectively.
“I wonder if our baby will speak French?” she laughed.
Conn gave a big, warm chuckle. “You think he will?”
“Or she,” Leona said chidingly. “Yes. I do.”
Conn nodded firmly. “Yes, or she. They'll speak both.”
“Yes,” Leona agreed. “We'll teach them.”
“Well, they'll need to be able to talk to their Scottish cousins,” Conn smiled.
“They will.”
They stood silent a while, Leona snuggled in his warm arms, surveying the land beyond the window. The lark spiralled up against the summer sky, pouring clear notes on the landscape. A maid sang in the local dialect somewhere in the kitchens.
“I'm glad Allie came to work for us,” Leona observed.
“Yes. She and Ferrier are all we need here, really.”
“True.”
Conn was right, Leona mused. The Little Hall – or so they had called their home – really only needed two staff, and a cook, and old Gaspard, to take care of the estate.
“At least Allie can help teach the bairn our language,” Conn mused. “When she isn't speaking French like everyone else.”
Leona chuckled. She and Conn spoke French sometimes too, now that he was fluent, and she was sure they would both be teaching their baby both languages.
“I asked Florentia if she could bring me herbs from Bois to help with the birth.”
“When she visited last week?” Conn asked, breathing warm breath on her neck.
“Yes,” Leona replied, trying to resist the soft tickling at her ear and failing desperately.
“Well, then,” Conn smiled, running hands down her waist in a way that made her tense with longing. “It seems like all is set. Though I shall be impossibly worried.”
Leona giggled, her body igniting under his touch, carrying her thoughts far away from any trials or fears and into a place of total pleasure. “Well, then,” she said, turning so that she could kiss his cheek. “I think we don't need to worry about that for a while.”
“Good,” Conn replied, a little breathless. “I have a lot to think about.”
“Me too,” Leona whispered.
Laughing, they collapsed back onto the bed together under a southern sun.
As his arms wrapped around her and his hands, deft and caring, stroked down her back, Leona felt herself smile.
Yes, things had turned out perfectly for them. Her long journeys had brought her back to her own heart, and to her greatest contentment. She was content indeed.
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Lairds of Dunkeld Series
Book 1 Link -> Heart Of A Highlander
Book 2 Link -> The Highlander’s Challenge
Book 3 Link -> The Highland Hero
Book 4 Link - > The Cursed Highlander
Book 5 Link - > The Highlander’s Dilemma
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Publisher’s Notes
Copyright © 2017 & 2018 by EMILIA FERGUSON & MOUNTAINSKY HOUSE PUBLISHING CO.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real or dead people, places, or events are not intentional and are the result of coincidence. The characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. All rights reserved.
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The Highlander’s Dilemma (Lairds of Dunkeld Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story) Page 20
