Epilogue
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
Skye looked at herself in the mirror. Ava had found her a beautiful pale pink dress for her mother’s wedding day.
Skye’s breasts had begun to swell with milk. The high waist of the gown emphasized them, and the full gathers of the skirt flowed over her ripe fullness. She had even spent the previous evening adorning it with embroidered flowers to make it extra bonnie for her mother’s special day.
But the bump made it all real. Her body was growing her first child, and she could feel it happening. A wonderful, kind, clever child was inside her, and she could not wait to meet him or her.
“Are ye ready, me love?” Arran’s voice called from the doorway.
“Aye, I’m ready,” she called back, turning toward him with her hands still pressing the fabric of her skirt to her burgeoning pregnancy.
“Och, Skye,” he murmured, his eyes going directly to her stomach and instantly filling with love. “Me bonnie wife and bairn.”
He walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulders. He cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her gently.
“Ye look amazing.”
“Thank ye, Arran. Ye look pretty dashing yerself in yer uniform.”
Now Laird of two clans, Arran was dressed in a specially woven tartan, signifying both his success and the union of both clans that he and Skye had brought about.
“I saw Magnus heading for the kirk. He seemed nervous.” He laughed. “It is funny to see a man of his age nervous.”
“Well, he should be. He will be responsible for me maither’s happiness. It is a big role to fill,” Skye breathed.
She was nervous about the day too. She loved Magnus and knew the wonderful man he was. But marriage had brought her mother such pain in the past, and she was scared that the same thing would happen again.
Helena deserved happiness, peace, and love, and Skye hoped with all her might that her mother would get it.
Arran brushed her cheek with his knuckle, guessing her worry. “Do nae fret. Magnus will treat her well, Skye. Better than any other man I know. It hurt him full sore to look for the two of ye. I think that’s why he tasked me with the chore.” Arran reassured her.
Skye nodded and took her husband’s hand, “Happen ye might be right.” Together, they headed downstairs to the ceremony.
The kirk was filled with white roses and purple thistles—Helena’s favorites—as well as all of their family and friends. Music filled the air, and everyone came in their finest attire to celebrate the happy couple.
Skye had spent weeks embroidering a white gown for her mother, and it sparkled with tiny glass beads in the late autumn sun. Helena looked as radiant as any lass on her first wedding day.
“There ye are, me darlin’,” her mother said. “I was beginnin’ to fear ye an’ yer bonnie lad had gotten distracted when he went to fetch ye.”
Skye linked arms with her mother. “I would nae miss this day, Maither. Ye deserve all the happiness in the world.”
They strolled down he aisle together. Magnus waited at the altar, seeming awestruck by the vision before him. He smiled warmly at Skye as she placed her mother’s hand in his, but his gaze was fixed upon Helena.
“Thank ye, Skye, for bringing yer maither to me,” he murmured. “It means so much that ye place this trust in me.”
“Ye are welcome, Magnus. Look after her.”
His eyes were bright with tears. “I will, lass. I always will.”
With a nod, Skye stepped to the side and let the new chapter in her mother’s life begin, as happy as it should have always been.
“I promise to make ye laugh even when yer face is trippin’ ye,” Helena swore.
“I promise to carry ye over hills and valleys when yer feet are hurtin’,” Magnus vowed.
Skye stood next to Arran, their hands clasped together, and she reflected on their own wedding. It had been rushed, and they had hardly known one another. It was filled with excitement but not much romance. And yet, she wouldn’t change it for the world.
They had jumped in to help each other and look where it had brought them. True love.
As if he was thinking the same thing, Arran leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Would ye do it any differently now?”
“Nay,” she responded instantly. “There isnae a thing I would change about our story.”
He kissed her cheek softly and squeezed her hand. “I would like to write the next chapter, though,” he whispered.
“What do ye have in mind?”
“What I have in mind cannae be spoken in a house of God, that’s for sure.”
Skye snickered at his cheek and nestled into his embrace, looking forward to being ravished by him later that evening.
As the guests began to leave, tired after a day of celebrating and an evening of dancing, Skye watched her mother dance in the arms of her new husband. The day had been glorious, and she hoped it was the first of many in the next chapter of Helena’s life.
She felt a hand on her thigh under the table, and she turned to her husband, who was sitting beside her.
“Have ye had a nice day, me love?” he asked.
“Aye, Arran, a bonnie day.” She rested her head on his shoulder, and he shuffled to make it more comfortable for her.
“Ye look remarkable in that dress, Skye. Bein’ with child is making ye even more irresistible than before,” he whispered into her hair. He gently squeezed her thigh and then began to massage her leg.
“More irresistible?” She giggled. “I didnae think it was possible.”
“Neither did I, me beauty.”
Slowly, Arran trailed his fingers up her thigh, pulling her dress up her leg inch by inch.
Months ago, Skye might have protested, but she was used to his antics now. He always loved to get her a little worked up in public, where she dared not let her face show her response. Now, she kept her head on his shoulder and allowed her eyes to flutter shut.
He bunched the fabric up into his palm until his fingertips finally touched her skin. Then he gripped her thigh and pushed her dress up a little more until he felt the crease where her thigh met her hip.
Skye’s breath hitched. She turned the sound into a cough to conceal what was going on. Down the table, old Agnes gave her a wink. The canny old woman knew exactly what Arran was doing to her. More than that, she clearly saw the humor in it and approved.
Arran kissed her gently on the head. She gazed up at him, letting the light kiss explain the adoring smile she simply could not conceal. He began to trail his fingers up her upper thighs. She eased her legs part for him, granting him permission to go further.
Arran exhaled, his breath tickling her ear.
He curved his finger and applied gentle pressure exactly where she liked it, and ever so carefully, he massaged her beneath the table.
Her breathing quickened, and he increased the pace of his attentions.
“Do ye think it too soon for us to slip away upstairs?” he murmured.
The heat of his whisper in her ear nearly undid her, right there at the table. “If ye steady me,” she whispered back. “I think me legs have gone to rubber.”
“Take a moment if ye need,” Aaron whispered wickedly, his fingers teasing her mercilessly, bringing her right to the edge. “I want to hear ye scream.”
Skye leaned against him, pressing her face into his shoulder while his busy finger invaded her most sensitive places. “Then perhaps we should go to our chambers, before I scandalize the guests by making the rafters ring.”
Arran laughed wickedly, as if she had just told him the finest joke in the world. He withdrew his finger, leaving her quivering on the edge of release.
He helped her smooth her skirts, then helped her to rise. They said their goodbyes for the evening and wished the happy couple a wonderful evening.. They calmly left the Great Hall, then Arran scooped her up in his arms as if she and the babe within her weighed scarcely more than a sack of grain.
Once they were behind closed doors, they were all over each other.
Skye tore Arran’s clothes off him like a ravenous beast, all the while keeping her lips on his.
He quickly but carefully undid her beautiful dress, knowing how much work had gone into it but urgently needing to feel her bare skin.
Once he unfastened the top, he cupped her breasts in his hands and began to massage them before her dress had even hit the floor.
His lips danced down her neck and across her chest, and he pushed her up against the door to take a nipple into his mouth. He sucked and nibbled, making her moan just how he liked, and he felt his member thicken and press against her leg.
“Arran,” she moaned.
“I’m going to give ye the best night of yer life, Skye.”
“Whatever ye do, do it quickly,” she breathed. “Please.”
He slid his hands under her buttocks and hoisted her in his arms, wrapping her legs around his naked body and carrying her to the bed. He could see that she could be teased no longer, and neither could he.
He gently laid her down on the edge of the bed, bent her legs, and positioned himself between them.
He admired her body for a short second. Her bump was beautiful and emphasized her stunning curves. He admired how her breasts had grown, her nipples looking more ripe. He slid his hands up her thighs and gripped them at the top. And then, looking her right in the eye, he thrust into her.
She moaned deliciously at the feeling.
“Yer a sorceress, Skye,” Arran groaned as her walls fluttered around his member, drawing him in.
Reading her body like a book, he focused hard and managed to time his climax perfectly with hers. Just as she arched her back and neck, dug her fingernails into his arms, and let out a moan, he spilled into her.
The moment seemed to last forever as the euphoria coursed through them. Finally, when they came back down to Earth, Arran collapsed beside her on the bed, out of breath.
“Ye werenae lying,” Skye eventually managed through labored breaths.
“Best night of yer life?”
“I think so,” she replied, and the two laughed.
They wrapped their arms around each other, safe in their castle, and slept soundly, with their child growing between them.