Chapter Twenty-Five
The feel of the rock face beneath Elise’s hands felt reassuringly familiar—cool stone, rough with age, with plenty of hand and footholds to make it easier.
The sun, hidden behind a cloud bank for much of the morning, had finally broken free and now bathed the cliff in sunlight—making the tiny crystals in the rock sparkle like diamonds.
Elise paused for a second to catch her breath.
The top wasn’t far away now but she was beginning to blow a little and her legs to tremble.
As always, the challenge of pushing herself to her physical limits sent a rush of exhilaration through her, and she welcomed the burning in her lungs and the tremble in her limbs like an old friend.
“Come on, woman,” she said to herself. “You haven’t got all day.”
Checking her safety rope and risking a quick glance up to her destination, she set off again.
She moved steadily, placing her feet with care, trusting the gear clipped at her waist. Decent gear, too—proper carabiners, modern rope—all things that she’d brought back with her from a trip to the twenty-first century.
Along with a solar charger, around half a ton of coffee, and enough chocolate to sink a war galley.
Finally, she reached the top, hauled herself up and over, and allowed herself a moment to rest, legs stretched out in front of her, leaning back on her hands. The wind caught her hair and tugged at her clothes, carrying the clean, sharp scent of the sea.
Islay stretched out before her—green and gold under a pale sky, hills rolling gently towards the coast. She could already spot half a dozen climbs she wanted to try: jagged rock faces poking out of the soil like the land’s bones and sheer escarpments where the land had heaved and slipped in times past. Islay, she’d learned, was a climber’s paradise.
She lifted her gaze and stared out to sea. The water was calm. No warships. Just Islay fishing boats moving lazily across the waves. A year ago, she hadn’t believed such a peaceful scene was possible.
In that time, there had been no further threats from Scotland or Ulster.
No whispered plots, no strange ships entering their waters to test their defenses.
Damn right. With three MacFinnan spellweavers on the Isles, they would be idiotic to try.
Jenna’s sharp mind and steadiness. Rose’s quiet strength and fierce loyalty.
Her own determination and stubbornness. Oh yes, anyone who thought to attack the Kingdom of the Isles had better watch out!
She sighed in contentment. After a long, warm summer, the harvest had been good—better than good. Trade had returned, slow at first, then stronger with every passing season. Laughter had found its way back into Dun Arach’s halls. People slept without fear.
Islay was healing. And so was she.
Elise glanced down at her wrist, where a strip of Donald plaid was wrapped neatly around her skin, worn soft with time. She touched it with her thumb, the fabric familiar and grounding, thinking of all it symbolized: her handfasting to Jamie.
It had been exactly what she’d needed at the time—a promise without a cage.
Not marriage, not forever written in ink and expectation.
Just a commitment made honestly, for a year and a day.
A halfway house, she’d thought then. Enough to keep the traditional islanders satisfied that she and Jamie weren’t living in “sin.” Enough to let her breathe.
But today, that year and a day was up and Elise had a decision to make.
Perhaps that’s why she’d come climbing today.
Perhaps that’s why she’d fled Dun Arach.
Climbing always helped clear her head. Out here, there was just herself and the rock face and the challenge of conquering it. Out here, she was free.
She exhaled slowly. If she squinted hard enough, she thought she could make out Dun Arach in the distance, a darker smudge against the coastline. Jamie waited for her there. Awaited the decision that would decide the course of both their lives.
Oh, hell. She couldn’t put it off any longer. With a sigh, she checked the safety ropes and began her descent.
By the time she rode into Dun Arach’s courtyard, the sun was beginning to set. The castle was alive—voices echoing off stone, the clatter of boots, the smell of baking bread drifting from the kitchens.
Home. The word settled easily in her chest now.
As if sensing her approach, the doors to the main keep opened, and Rose and Jenna stepped out, coming to meet her as she pulled up her horse and swung down.
“You went climbing,” Rose said flatly, a disapproving expression on her face.
Elise shrugged, unrepentant. “I always go climbing.”
“On this day?” Rose demanded. “Have you no sense at all?”
Jenna’s mouth twitched despite herself. “We lost track of you. Again.”
“I left a note.”
“A note?” Rose said incredulously. “Like some surly teenager trying to get out of school sports day? I swear you will turn my hair prematurely gray!”
Her sister’s tone wasn’t sharp now—just worried. “Have you made a decision?” she asked softly.
Elise met her gaze and nodded. “I have.”
Jenna’s lips quirked in a smile, the quiet, knowing kind. At the sight, Elise felt the last knot in her chest loosen.
“Did you get what I asked for?” she asked her niece.
Jenna reached inside her cloak and produced a small, carefully wrapped package. “I did. And before you ask—yes, I did have to visit the pawn shop. And no, I do not want to know how they ended up there.”
Elise laughed and took the package. “Let’s just say I needed the money and leave it at that, eh?”
Rose looked between them a few times. “What are you two talking about?”
Elise patted her shoulder. “All in good time, Sis. All in good time.”
Giving them a wink, she tucked the package into her pocket and walked away.
Jamie would be waiting.
It took a while to track him down, but she eventually found him up on the battlements overlooking the sea, hands braced on the stone, staring out at the horizon as though it might offer answers.
He turned when he heard her footsteps, trying—and failing—to look calm.
His smile was tight, his shoulders stiff, but the sight of him still had the power to take her breath away.
White-blond hair spilling onto his shoulders, bow-shaped lips ripe for kissing, piercing eyes that seemed to see right through her.
God, how she loved him.
“Elise,” he said, eyes sparkling as he caught sight of her. “Ye are back.”
“Did you doubt it?”
“Of course not.” He hesitated. “I just—today is…”
She crossed the space between them, resisting the urge to throw her arms around him. It had only been a few hours since she’d seen him, but it felt like forever.
Up close, she could see the tension in his eyes, the care with which he was holding himself. For a year and a day, he’d done that. Given her space. Never pushed. Never asked for more than she was ready to give.
“Have ye made a decision?” he asked quietly.
She glanced at the plaid wrapped around her wrist. “We followed the traditions of the Isles,” she said slowly. “The handfasting. A year and a day.”
Jamie nodded, jaw tight.
“But now,” Elise continued, “I have to break those traditions.”
The color drained from his face. “Oh,” he breathed softly. “I see.”
Before he could say anything else. Elise dropped to one knee.
Jamie froze. “Elise? What are ye—”
She flung up a hand to silence him. Her heart was suddenly galloping like a runaway horse. She unwrapped the package, revealing a small box. She opened it, revealing two rings nestling on the cloth inside. Not ostentatious. Strong. Beautiful in their quiet certainty.
Her parents’ wedding rings.
“I know it’s tradition here for the man to do the asking,” she said, looking up at him. “But I’ve never been very good at following rules. You might have noticed.”
She took his hand, grounding herself with the warmth of it. “I chose this life,” she said. “I chose these Isles. I chose you.”
His breath caught. “Elise—”
“Jamie Donald,” she said, steady now. “Will you marry me?”
For a heartbeat, he just stared at her. Then he laughed—a broken, breathless sound—and dropped to his knees in front of her, hands framing her face.
“Yes,” he said, eyes bright. “Gods, yes. I’d have waited forever if I had to—but yes.”
She laughed too, relief and joy spilling over as he pulled her into his arms. They kissed, unrestrained, the sea wind wrapping around them like a blessing. Elise felt the world settle into place around her.
She would always be who she was. Elise MacFinnan: impulsive, headstrong, a little wild. But now she was no longer running, no longer seeking what lay beyond the next horizon. Because everything she needed was here. She was exactly where she was meant to be.
And this time, she was staying.
THE END