Epilogue
THREE MONTHS LATER
“Much better,” Elsie said with a decisive nod. “It suits yer complexion far more than the other one. I daenae ken what I was thinkin’ when I suggested silver.”
Nancy chuckled as she looked at her reflection in the looking glass, the mirror less clear than the ones in the future, which she didn’t mind at all. “I don’t much mind what the dress looks like, but it’s a good choice.” She glanced at Elsie. “Thank you for arranging everything.”
“Honestly, I was happy to have more time,” Elsie insisted, though the twitch in her eye betrayed the truth. “It has kept me busy, givin’ me an excuse to have a few moments away from me bairn.”
At that moment, the baby was fast asleep in a sling fastened across her chest.
Motherhood suited Hunter’s cousin, but even without a child of her own, Nancy could understand the desire to have some adult pursuits, in addition to constantly caring for a newborn.
“Let’s hope nothin’ disturbs this one, eh?” Elsie added, her brow furrowing.
It hadn’t been easy for Isla and Elsie to come to terms with the betrayal and ensuing death of Beathan. In truth, it was like they didn’t quite know how to grieve the loss of him, just like they hadn’t quite known how to grieve the loss of his eldest brother.
Both men had acted terribly, proving that there might well be some madness in their bloodline, but they were still family.
With Beathan especially, there’d been no sign of betrayal before it happened, as if it were a spur-of-the-moment thing, or Laird MacLeach’s forgiveness had pushed him over the edge.
No one would ever know what had prompted Beathan to attack Hunter, not fully, and that too was an ongoing struggle for Isla and Elsie. Still, one thing was for certain: they didn’t blame Hunter or Nancy for how that morning had ended.
“Jack hasn’t posted any archers in the rafters, has he?” Nancy joked.
“Heavens, he better nae,” Elsie groaned. “I’m surprised he doesnae have half the clan’s army followin’ me around; he’s so worried about Laura all the bloody time. I cannae even nap with her without him comin’ in and standin’ there, like me own personal guard.”
Nancy laughed. “I think that’s sweet.”
“Aye, well, if Hunter is like that when ye have bairns, ye come and tell me if ye still think it’s sweet,” Elsie replied with a smile.
A grimace twisted Nancy’s mouth. “I think we’ll just enjoy our marriage for a while.”
“Ye’re seven-and-twenty, Nancy!” Elsie protested. “Ye should be havin’ bairns as soon as ye’re wed.”
Nancy shrugged, smoothing her hands down the front of her emerald-green dress, the silky fabric embellished with golden flowers and little purple jewels that formed the center of an array of thistles and the petals of the state flower of New Jersey: the common meadow violet.
Her two lives combined, paying homage to her new world and the one she would probably never see again.
Although she had left a note in the strange, time-bending box in the sea cave below Jane’s castle. A note to let Emily know that she was alive and well, and sorry that she wouldn’t be coming home.
“Still, I think we’ll take our time,” she insisted, thinking of the implant in her arm.
Hunter was astounded when he heard about it, and the two of them had taken eager advantage of its benefits. It would last at least another year, but when she’d mentioned it to Adeline, her friend had assured her that if she wanted to conceive earlier, she could take it out safely.
“Come on, then,” Elsie said, taking her arm. “We should get ye married before anythin’ else has the chance to go wrong.”
This time, however, Nancy had no uneasy feeling or tingle of a premonition. She had the pendant in a box in her bedchamber, but it had not thrummed or vibrated since the day she had saved Hunter from his fate.
Now, she wasn’t silly enough to think that in the 1700s, there’d never be any trouble again, but she knew deep down that there wouldn’t be any today.
This would be a day to remember for all the right reasons.
Every pew in the chapel was packed with eager, chattering guests, waiting for the bride to arrive. Hunter stood almost exactly where he’d been when Beathan had revealed his hatred, yet he felt no fear or uncertainty as he glanced back at the chapel doors, desperate to set eyes on his beloved.
At her insistence, they hadn’t seen one another for three days, and he felt like he’d go mad if he didn’t see her again soon. His bed had been cold, his heart and mind restless, his desire raised to a relentless peak.
“Are ye nervous?” Jack asked, standing at his side.
Hunter shook his head. “There’s nothin’ to be nervous about.” He paused, smirking. “I have soldiers stationed all around, just in case.”
“Aye, I ken,” Jack replied, shaking his head. “But if I were ye, I’d have more.”
“All will be well,” Hunter insisted as he turned back once more, wishing his bride would hurry up. He couldn’t bear the anticipation a moment longer.
Among the congregation, he spotted Isla with Freya in her arms, and Adeline and Jane with their husbands and children, and their extended family, including Beitris and the mysterious Mrs. Crimmins.
The old witch caught Hunter’s eye, giving him a nod of approval.
Did ye ken how it would end?
It still felt strange to him that a woman with such knowledge of time travel, with a strong connection to Nancy, hadn’t appeared to her sooner, hadn’t given her any advice on how to change history.
Before he could dwell too much on the bizarre nature of time travel and magic, the door to the chapel opened wide, and a vision in emerald-green appeared, like a goddess of the old ways, come to give her blessing.
Instead, it was the bride herself, looking more beautiful, more ethereal than he had ever seen her.
A hushed gasp of awe rippled through the congregation, while Hunter’s heart beat a little bit faster.
“Mercy, that’s a fine woman,” Jack whispered.
Hunter chuckled. “Keep yer eyes down if ye want to keep them. Elsie will pluck ‘em out, and I willnae stop her.”
“I’m just sayin’,” Jack replied defensively. “Can a man nae compliment his new Lady?”
Hunter paused. “When ye put it like that, nay.”
With no father to give her away, Nancy walked alone down the aisle. She had barely made it halfway when Hunter decided he’d had quite enough of being apart from her. Nor did he want her to have to walk anywhere alone again.
He strode toward her and offered his arm, enchanted by her radiant smile as she weaved her arm through his.
“I don’t think this is traditional,” she whispered.
“Then it’s fortunate that I daenae care for tradition,” Hunter replied with a grin.
She beamed up at him. “I love you.”
“I love ye more,” he told her, leading her toward the priest and his disapproving frown. “Ye look beautiful, love.”
“I think this is more my color,” Nancy murmured. “And I happen to be quite fond of it, so don’t get any notions of ruining it later.”
He smirked. “I wouldnae dream of it,” he said, leaning in close to her ear, “but I might have to crawl to ye later, and worship at the altar of yer body.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she giggled.
“I cannae stop. Nor will I.”
She leaned into him as they came to a stop in front of the priest. “Is that your solemn vow?”
“One of ‘em, aye,” he purred. “But the first and most important, love, is that I mean to cherish ye every day for the rest of me life, as we continue rewriting history together.”
Her breath hitched as she gazed deeply into his eyes, her own shining with happy tears. “I can’t wait.” She paused. “But how do you think our story ends?”
“When we’re old and gray, with enough bairns and grandbairns to ensure we’re never forgotten,” he replied, lifting his hand to cradle her face, not caring about the priest’s impatience. “Aye, love, I think our story will end like this… with a kiss.”
He dipped his head and kissed her, the rest of the chapel falling away for a moment as she kissed him back, her palm resting on his heart, where he hoped she could feel just how much he loved her, and always would.
“Will ye marry me, Lady Lochlann?” he whispered, pulling back.
She grinned at him. “I think I will, Laird Lochlann. In fact, not even fate could stop me.”
The End?