Epilogue
“Your da would’ve made the devil think he was aboot to die that night.
” Elspeth grinned at her husband of nearly a score of years as she recounted their harrowing time in England.
Their four children listened raptly as they sat with their parents and extended family.
It was the night before Samhain, and the Sutherlands gathered before the fire in Dunrobin’s Great Hall.
“Ye shall give us all nightmares, Elsie,” Callen warned.
Neither had regaled their children with the tale until that year, fearing it would upset their offspring when they were younger.
But their oldest, Lucas, had asked Elspeth to tell everyone the scariest tale she knew, since she was the family’s best storyteller.
“Da, didna ye fear all the brains would fall out when ye shook the heads?” Of course, it was their only daughter, the youngest, who asked the most morbid question.
Laurel was the prankster in the family and was never squeamish about sticking spiders, slugs, or ants in her brothers’ beds and boots.
She’d left a fish’s head in her second oldest brother’s sporran the day before.
Callen insisted she took after Elspeth more than him.
“They did, but the minger yer uncles had was far worse. Disgusting.”
“But ye were glad to have it,” Alasdair insisted from the seat beside Callen, elbowing his brother. The sibling rivalry hadn’t died among the older generation and often inspired the younger.
“True. Ye and Gavin decorating that whip with the bones made up for it. The sound sent shivers down ma own spine.” Callen grinned at both of his brothers. It had been years since anyone had spoken of that ghoulish night on the Yorkshire dales.
“Our Dullahan never had to ride again. Yer da saved me and kept the English from ever entering Elliot land again.” Elspeth shifted on her husband’s lap as she rested against his shoulder. They sat like this most nights before a fire.
Callen kissed her forehead as he sighed. “There’s naught I wouldnae do for our family, even ride into England.”
The End