Epilogue
Lucas watched as nearly everyone in Clan McGowan, as well as several lairds from other clans, mingled in the great hall. The music swelled, and the savory smell of enough food to feed everyone here for a week wafted through the air. None of that mattered as much as the woman on his arm, though.
“Ye’re thinkin’ too much,” Flora observed, looking up at him through her lashes, her hair pulled away from her face. The cut had healed nicely now, just leaving a light pink line that was only visible in direct sunlight. “I can hear it.”
“Ach, so ye can hear me thinkin’ about how much I love ye,” he said. Then, he leaned down, dropping his voice an octave lower. “And ye can hear how badly I want to get ye alone.”
“Lucas!” she squealed, only half-jokingly. She didn’t pull away from his touch, only leaning in closer.
Keeping his hands off of her during the last two weeks had been agony.
The stolen moments between his investigation into the men who’d kidnapped her and Elizabeth and holding Flora as she drifted off to sleep were nothing more than a temporary balm to the biting lust he felt.
He’d only made it through by reminding himself that their wedding was quickly approaching.
“I ken ye feel the same,” he said, his voice dipping low. “I can see the way ye look at me, Flora. Ye’re waitin’ for this ceilidh to end just as I am.”
She blushed a gorgeous shade of pink, the color in her cheeks making her dark eyes pop. Clearing her throat, she turned away from him, looking over the festivities. A bit amused and breathless, she said, “It seems Elizabeth is dragging Annabeth and Matthew over.”
Lucas followed her line of sight, grinning when he saw his overexcited niece trudging ahead. In each hand was one of her parents. The two were wearing equally giddy expressions, the same ones they’d donned when Lucas and Flora had told them about their engagement.
“There’s the happy couple,” Matthew said as soon as they were in earshot, speaking loudly to be heard over the ambient music. “And the reason that we’re finally havin’ another ceilidh.”
“Matthew,” Annabeth scolded, though she was laughing, “their weddin’ is more than the celebration.” She turned to Flora and Lucas then. “The ceremony was wonderful. And ye’re the bonniest bride I’ve ever seen, Flora.”
“Thank ye,” Flora replied, the hold she had on Lucas tightening. “And thank ye for bein’ here. I dinnae think I’d ever get married nor have such wonderful people in me life.”
“Well, Elizabeth was determined to have ye married,” Mathew laughed, resting his palm against his daughter’s shoulder. “She’s been tellin’ everyone that she’s the reason ye’re together.”
“But I am!” Elizabeth exclaimed, her enormous grin showing off the tooth she’d lost just a few days before. “If it werenae for me, they wouldnae have spent so much time together.”
Lucas furrowed his brow, caught somewhere between amusement and incredulousness. “Wait, Elizabeth. Are ye tellin’ me that ye asked us to stargaze kennin’ ye werenae goin’ to join us?”
“Of course,” she said as though that should have been obvious. “I could tell ye liked each other.”
“Elizabeth, ye cannae go meddlin’ in people’s lives like that,” Annabeth gasped, covering her mouth to hide her own mirth. “Ye ken it’s nae yer place.”
“Ach, but they wouldnae have spent time together on their own,” Elizabeth argued. “Uncle Lucas is difficult!”
“He is. And I wouldnae have him any other way,” Flora agreed, sending the entire group into a round of laughter.
Lucas was the first to recover, but the ridiculousness of the revelation stuck around. Truthfully, he should have seen what his niece was doing. She was smart and knew how to get her way; he just never imagined that she’d turn that brilliant little brain of hers toward his own affairs.
“I suppose I owe ye me thanks, then,” Lucas said, kneeling in front of Elizabeth. “Though I daenae want ye thinkin’ that ye’re the only reason I’ve married Flora. I think it was always meant to be. Ye just spread the process along.”
“Aye,” Elizabeth replied before throwing her arms around Lucas’ neck and hugging him tightly. “I just dinnae want to wait for Flora to be me aunt.”
“I cannae fault ye for that,” Lucas said as he released her. “She’s a wonderful woman.”
While he stood again, Elizabeth went around him to embrace Flora, who seemed overwhelmed at the open declarations of affection.
She was smiling still, but her eyes were a bit wet.
As carefully as she could, she reached up to dab just below them, wiping away any tears before they could streak down her face.
“I’m honored to be yer aunt now,” Flora said, her voice thick. She swallowed, letting out a breathless laugh. “And I’m grateful ye pushed me toward Lucas. Even if yer maither is right about meddlin’ in other people’s business.”
“I only meddle when I ken I’m right,” Elizabeth replied. When the two finally parted, Elizabeth turned back to Matthew. “I’d like to dance now.”
“Ach, ye’re a demandin’ wee thing, are ye nae?” Matthew laughed as he took her hand. With one final look at Lucas and Flora, he said, “Congratulations again. I’m happy for the two of ye. Ye both deserve this, truly.”
Annabeth nodded in agreement, and then the group was off again.
Elizabeth giggled as Matthew spun her, the two disappearing into the droves of dancing partners.
Annabeth stood off to the side, careful not to get in the way as she watched her husband and her daughter sway together with a soft smile on her face.
Flora leaned against Lucas, her head resting against his shoulder, the movement careful to keep from disturbing the jewelry she’d been adorned with.
The simple, easy contact sent a profound sense of calm through him.
He still wanted to get Flora away from the ceilidh, to have him all to himself, but he was in no rush.
It was rare that he found contentment, yet she was giving it to him without even realizing it.
“Would ye like to dance, Lady McGowan?” he said after a few more minutes of observing.
Flora lifted her head, meeting his gaze bashfully. “I daenae ken how to dance.”
“That doesnae matter to me,” he said, grabbing hold of both of her hands. “I’m nae a good dancer, but I promise nae to step on yer feet.”
“Well, as long as ye’ll nae step on me feet, I suppose I could dance with ye, husband,” she murmured, tightening her fingers around his. “But I cannae promise that I willnae step on yers.”
“That’s a risk I’m willin’ to take.”
Flora had never had the pleasure of attending a celebration or a wedding prior to this one, so she had no idea what the protocol was for leaving. Lucas had been right; she was desperate to be alone with him, but she was even more determined to behave appropriately.
It came as a relief when he pushed aside his glass of wine and leaned over to say, “I believe we’ve fulfilled our duties here. Unless ye’d like to stay for a bit longer.”
She surveyed the ceilidh and all of the people still dancing and celebrating.
The cooks that were now her cooks as well were bringing out more refreshments, and the band continued to play merry tunes.
It was lovely, and she’d enjoyed herself, but she was fairly certain their presence wouldn’t be needed to keep the festivities going.
“Nay,” she murmured, the love she felt making the word come out soft. “I believe I’m ready to retire.”
When Lucas stood abruptly, taking hold of her hand and pulling her along with him, she giggled. They wove through dancing bodies, careful not to upend any drinks. Then, they traversed through the castle, not needing words, the anticipation speaking for them.
Her breath caught when he pushed open his own door, leading her inside. The decorations were sparse, but the fire was roaring, and the bed looked inviting. Before she was able to get a proper look at her surroundings, he turned her toward him, pressing his lips firmly against hers.
She responded immediately, her arms wrapping around Lucas’ neck, allowing him to pull her even closer.
Her body flush against his, she could feel the sheer strength he kept hidden beneath his clothes.
Against her hip, she felt the same hardness she’d noticed when they were at the loch beneath the stars.
“I’ve been waitin’ to have ye like this all night,” he practically growled against her lips. “I made ye mine in front of everyone, and now, I’m goin’ to claim ye here. I’m nae leavin’ ye any doubt who ye belong to, Flora.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she said, her heart beating faster as her hold on him tightened. “I’m yers, Lucas. I’ve been yers since ye rescued me.”
A feral noise tore from his throat as he cupped her face, pulling her into a kiss that was even deeper than the first. His tongue pressed at the seam of her mouth, and she granted him entry thoughtlessly. She wanted all of him; however she could get him.
“We have to get these jewels off of ye,” he said against her lips when his fingertips brushed her earlobe. “And everythin’ else, too.”
The thrill that ran through her was profound. It started at the top of her head, zipping down to the tips of her toes before coming to settle between her legs. As he removed the earrings and the necklace with gentleness that belied his obvious impatience, her breathing grew more ragged.
When he set the accessories aside, Lucas grabbed her by the waist and walked her back toward the bed.
He stopped just short of the mattress. His palms slid up her hips and over her ribcage, ghosting over the sides of her breasts.
As his touch shifted to her back, she arched forward, practically begging for more.
“Turn around, Flora,” he said raggedly, his lips still tantalizingly close to hers. “I need to get ye out of this.”