“It is the perfect day. Exactly how I wished it,” Dallis whispered in his ear.
Most of the event was held inside the great room. The cook prepared all her favorites. Roasted duck, root vegetables and goat cheese along with sweet fig tarts were presented on platters and plates much to the delight of those in attendance.
Musicians played which meant Fiona urged women to dance even before the meal began. Dallis tapped her fingers in time to the music, stopping when Alasdair covered her hand.
He cupped her face and lifted it up for a kiss and then gently pulled her to stand. “Go. Dance.”
Although it was not the time to dance, but when they should be waiting to be served, Dallis hurried to where Fiona was and joined in the circle of women.
The laird smiled indulgently. “It will come that ye and Guiles’ will be responsible for our clan. I fear how unruly the women are.”
Alasdair couldn’t help but chuckle. “Unruly and yet beautifully perfect in the manner both connect with the people.”
Fiona had encouraged both young and older women, some highborn and others simple villages to join the dance. Dallis clutched hands with a frail elderly woman who’s wrinkled face was bright with joy as they turned in a circle.
“They will keep all of us mindful of what is truly important,” Guiles said leaning forward to look at him.
Just then Lady Fraser stood, Alasdair expected that she’d demand the music stop so that the guests could begin the meal. Instead, she held her hand out to Lady Gordon. “I say we join in.”
The day continued with celebration and laughter, the entire time, Alasdair could not help keeping guard over his bride. The meal had long ended, but the celebration continued.
Alasdair now stood next to the high board making himself accessible to those who wished to speak to him.
“Ye need to relax and allow yerself a normal existence,” his mother whispered into his ear. She’d come up without him realizing it. “I am so very happy for ye son. She will make ye a fine wife.”
There were questions in her eyes, but she did not voice them. Alasdair walked her to an empty chair. “All will work out well. I have no doubt.”
“Ye have to be with care. Do not ever allow yer guard to be down.” She cupped his jaw as was her custom whenever wishing to ensure he paid full attention. “At the same time, no matter what, let it be time that ye finally settle.”
Alasdair hugged his mother. “Come to visit often.”
Her eyes twinkled with mirth. “Ye will grow tired of me. But I must because the cook here has many talents I wish to learn.”
“I could never tire of ye.”
She laughed a sound he’d missed. “We shall see.”
By the time the festivities ended, everyone was exhausted. Along with his wife and the laird’s family, they trudged up the stairs, everyone going to their chambers.
Just as he was to guide Dallis to his, Lady Sinclair called out and hurried over.
To his utter shock, the woman hugged him tightly. “With all of this happening so quickly, I forgot to properly welcome ye to the family.” She smiled up at him. “Welcome.”
Somehow Alasdair managed to swallow past the lump in this throat and he nodded. “Thank ye.”
Dallis sniffed. “I have never been so happy.” The women hugged until Laird Sinclair came and retrieved his wife.
His lips curved when Dallis murmured softly in her sleep and snuggled deeper against him. He slid a hand across the soft skin of her arm.
The most precious of gifts had been her love for him.
Because of his gift of foresight, he not only found the love of his life, but his true destiny as well.
The descendants of the Triùir Mhòra did not normally to live long as persecutors hunted them. Alasdair imagined if his ancestry came to light his life would be cut short. That someone like him would be granted the prestigious position of being not only leader of a guard, but also married to a laird’s daughter would be considered heresy by many.
Alasdair understood this was his burden to bear, and yet he vowed to keep it a secret for the rest of his life. He prayed that his descendants did not inherit the legacy, otherwise they would have to embark on a quest of their own.
“You’re awake,” Dallis said in a soft sleepy voice. “Sleep darling.”
And he did.
Epilogue
Alasdair stood atop the walls that surrounded Keep Sinclair as the sun fell. It had been an exhausting day, as he’d been up since before dawn and had yet to rest. Other than a quick meal at mid-day, he’d been on guard that day.
Visitors were expected to come, and Laird Sinclair had been informed of a possible attack. Although the chances were low, no one was willing to take a chance. For over a year the Macpherson had been demanding a meeting with the trio of lairds.
Robertson, who remained as the head laird had forbidden anyone meet with the man until he agreed to cede land that had been stolen from Gordon farmers.
As tedious as the task of archer was, Alasdair had learned to enjoy it. Admittedly, the most enjoyable part of his new work, was becoming a better archer. In fact, he now preferred target practice to sword play.
“Last meal has been announced. Ye best go,” Nevin said walking toward him.
Alasdair yawned and stretched. “I hope to get sleep more than I wish for food.”
Nevin nodded. “Tis the way with new bairns. Demand what they need despite the time of day.”
“Or night,” Alasdair added shaking his head.
Hurrying through the house, he rushed up the stairs to the chamber he shared with Dallis. Knowing better than to call out her name, he entered the room quietly.
His wife sat on a chair by the window rocking back and forth with their son in her arms. Her lips curved at seeing him.
The child slept soundly, his tiny fist clenching a strand of Dallis’ hair.
“Allow the nursemaid to watch over him,” Alasdair said. “Come to last meal with me.”
Gingerly, she stood and leaned over slowly to place the slumbering child into a cradle, her hand lingering over the baby’s chest for a moment.
It was her custom to pray protection over him and Alasdair found it both curious and heart-warming.
The nursemaid entered and motioned for them to come to the hallway. “Laird requests that ye both attend last meal.”
“We were just heading down,” Dallis said turning to look toward the cradle. “He should remain asleep for a while. I am hoping most of the night.”
Candlelight and fire in the hearths cast shadows that seemed to dance against the walls and floors. People sat on both sides of three long tables discussing the events of the day.
Servants entered with trays laden with meats, breads and whatever other food had been prepared in the kitchens that day.
Alasdair guided Dallis to the high board where they sat on the left side of the laird next to Lady Sinclair. On the Sinclair’s right were Guiles and Fiona.
The Sinclair turned to him and nodded. “I am glad to have ye both join us in this meal. Since my grandson came to be, it is a rare sight.”
Dallis chuckled. “Do ye miss me Da?”
The meal was delicious and despite the exhaustion of not enough sleep and work, Alasdair found himself enjoying the time with his new family.
“Ye should sleep in another chamber tonight. Get some rest,” Dallis whispered in his ear.
“Only if ye come with me.”
Lady Sinclair turned to them a soft smile on her lips. “I will ensure William is looked after tonight and allow ye both to rest.”
“He has to feed mother,” Dallis said with a sigh.
“Feed him and go with Alasdair to one of the guest chambers. If he requires another feeding, I will instruct the nursemaid to come for ye.”
It was like the night of their wedding. Both undressed quickly and climbed into bed.
Alasdair brought his wife against him and kissed her until both were breathless.
>
“Tell me what ye want,” Alasdair asked yawning despite his arousal.
Dallis laughed. “Make love to me. Quickly else one of us falls asleep.”
A HEARTLESS LAIRD
Coming face to face amidst battles and danger, a heartless man and a gentle healer begin the first of many impassioned interactions.
Seeking to avenge his father’s death, new laird Malcolm Ross declares war. Nothing will deter him from finding and killing the man who murdered his father, especially not a beautiful healer who needs to learn her place.
Elsbeth Muir has a kind heart and dedicates her life to caring for those injured in the clan wars. Despite her dislike of Laird Malcolm Ross, there is something about him that calls to the healer within.
It could be that Elsbeth’s abilities go deeper than skin deep and she will melt his frozen heart.
Read it today: My Book
About the Author
Enticing. Engaging. Romance.
USA Today Bestselling Author Hildie McQueen writes Medieval Scottish Romance and American Historical Romance. If you like stories with a mixture of drama and humor, you will love Hildie’s storytelling. Strong heroes meet their match and fall in love every time!
Hildie resides in eastern Georgia with her super-hero husband Kurt and three little dogs.
Visit her website at www.hildiemcqueen.com
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