Epilogue
Three Months Later
“Nearly got it that time,” Amelia said as Isla groaned in frustration at missing a butterfly.
Isla looked up the hill where Amelia was standing. The brilliant colors behind her were nearly enough to take Amelia’s breath away. She’d lived in the Highlands her entire life, and no place was quite as pretty as Fraser Keep.
“There’s nae reason a creature so small should be able to evade me so easily,” the girl whined.
Hazel covered her mouth. From where she was seated next to Amelia, she watched her daughter. The woman wasn’t much for conversation, but Amelia found that she liked it. Moments of silence at the keep were rare.
“Didnae ye know?” Amelia replied with a playful grin. “Butterflies all come out of their cocoons kennin’ how to avoid wee lassies like yerself.”
“I’m nae wee,” Isla shot back.
She glared when her mother began to laugh, but she didn’t let it derail her from her task. Turning around, Isla began creeping toward the cloud of butterflies. Amelia watched as she made another attempt at catching one. As expected, she came away from the attempt empty-handed once more.
Amelia was taking a few last moments of peace before Flora and Lucas’s arrival. Despite her initial hesitancy, she’d become fast friends with the other woman. On the day that she and Darragh got married, Flora’s attendance was the only thing that she cared about.
“Ye’re glowin’,” Hazel said thoughtfully, looking up at Amelia, her head cocked to the side.
“I believe it’s just the lightin’,” Amelia replied, still not quite comfortable with the compliments the staff gave freely.
“Perhaps,” Hazel said without taking her eyes off Amelia. “But ye do look healthy. Seems ye get even better every day.”
“I’ve been healed for over a month,” Amelia pointed out, ducking her head.
The silence stretched between them. Both women watched as Isla continued her impossible task. She’d moved onto lying as still as she could, likely in hopes that one would land close enough for her to grab.
“I do believe I feel better each day,” Amelia admitted.
“Nae in the same way as I did when me ribs were still tender. But it does feel as if each day is better than the last.” She went quiet then, contemplative.
“I wait every day for it to end. I think that surely the day must be comin’ that I wake up from this dream. ”
“Sometimes we’re blessed with our realities from the beginnin’,” Hazel murmured, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. “Sometimes we must go through hell to get them. When ye’ve had to fight for yer peace, it’s hard to believe the fightin’ is really over.”
Amelia swallowed around a lump in her throat. She had to look away, lest she end up crying in front of Hazel. It hadn’t happened in so long, and she preferred to keep it that way.
A familiar form was making its way toward them. The sun cast a halo around broad shoulders and muscular thighs. When she shielded her eyes from the light, Darragh was already smiling up at her.
“Ach, seems it’s about time for the two of us to get back to work,” Hazel said, following Amelia’s line of sight.
She looked at Isla, who was blissfully unaware that anything had changed.
“Isla! If we daenae get back to the castle soon, Mrs. Rowan will have us both reorganizin’ the tincture stores. ”
“Already?” Isla asked, immediately stopping her pursuit. She glanced up at the sun’s position, then at Darragh’s approach. Understanding dawned on her face, though her disappointment was still evident. “I suppose I can try again tomorrow if the weather holds.”
“I’m sure it will,” Darragh said, coming to a stop next to Amelia. He offered Hazel his hand, helping her to her feet easily. “After all the rain we had, we’re due for a few days of clear skies.”
Isla nodded, waiting for Hazel to meet her. Then, she locked her arm with her mother’s. Amelia and Darragh watched them in silence as they began their walk back to the castle.
“Flora and Lucas have arrived,” he reported, reaching over to grab her hand. “They’re gettin’ settled now. Flora’s lookin’ forward to seein’ ye at supper.”
“I’m lookin’ forward to seein’ her as well,” Amelia said, not resisting the urge to take a step closer to him. “I nearly came to the courtyard to greet them, but Isla was insistent that I stay and give her butterfly catchin’ tips.”
“The child wants to be a professional at everythin’ she does,” Darragh replied with a laugh, shaking his head. “I’m worried that one day she’ll get in her head that she should be the next laird.”
“Ye should let her,” Amelia said, grinning up at him. “I trust her decision-makin’ skills.”
“Ach, but she’s too wee to be a competent fighter,” Darragh sighed. He was smiling at Amelia, too. It seemed that the warmth in his gaze grew every time he looked at her. “Though I do suppose she could learn to use her small stature to her advantage.”
“She’s more than capable,” Amelia agreed.
For a few moments, she and Darragh watched the trees. When he broke the silence, his voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “Would ye care to join me on a walk, Lady Fraser? I havenae spent time with ye all day, and I’ve been missin’ ye terrible.”
“I’d be happy to, Laird Fraser,” she said, already offering him her arm as contentment spread through her chest.
* * *
“Peace suits ye,” Darragh said as the two walked slowly along the tree line. He couldn’t take his eyes off her silhouette, the gentle curve of her nose, and the impossible length of her eyelashes. “Ye get bonnier every day.”
She turned to look at him, a little smile on her lips. “Ye ken, Hazel just commented on me health.”
He knew she was skirting the statement, and normally, he’d let her. This, though, was important for her to understand. She’d been beautiful since the day he met her, but the way her energy had calmed made her ethereal.
“She was right to,” he said, squeezing her hand to pull her attention away from the trees. When their eyes met, he said, “Livin’ a life where ye can help Nigell in the kitchen and organize me linen closets at yer leisure has ye smilin’ much more. Ye have nae idea how much I love yer smile.”
Though she didn’t speak, her eyes seemed to light up. She searched his face, her grip on his hand tightening. He stayed where he was, steadfast.
“I daenae think I’ll ever ken how to respond to ye when ye say such things,” she said finally, the apples of her cheeks a dusty pink. She was trying and failing to hide her smile. “Perhaps if ye werenae so genuine, I wouldnae feel so…”
“I will continue to remind ye of every single thing I love about ye,” Darragh said, holding her gaze for a beat longer before he returned his attention to the tree line. “Until ye learn to accept it as a fact.”
She was quiet, but she walked a little closer to him as they got further from the castle. They were nearly at the edge of the woods when he stopped beside her. A faint smile on his face, Darragh raised his hand, pointing ahead.
“Oh,” Amelia breathed, following the gesture. Standing there, just a stone’s throw away, was the brilliant white deer. “She’s still here.”
The doe was watching the two of them with eyes that seemed far too intelligent. Her ears flicked. After a moment, she leaned down, nosing over the grass and turning around slowly.
“Aye,” Darragh agreed, his voice tight. There were so many emotions swirling in his mind that he couldn’t say anything else.
Quietly, the two observed the animal. She didn’t get too close, but she lingered for much longer than she did the first time.
It felt like approval and a message of well-wishes all in one.
When the doe finally turned around and made her way deeper into the woods, the grief and longing felt much smaller.
“Ye told me that peace looked good on me,” Amelia said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over both of them.
“Aye, because it does,” Darragh replied. “I hope ye’re nae goin’ to argue with me.”
“Nay, nae this evenin’,” she said with a faint smile. “The peace that I’m wearin’... it took some fightin’ to find it.”
“And was it worth it?” he asked, his features softening in the dying light.
“Aye,” she confirmed, going easily when he pulled her into an appreciative kiss. “And I will wear it every day with pride.”
The End?