Epilogue
SOME WEEKS LATER
Callum
“Show me again?” For once, my youngest brother’s face held a serious expression, his gaze taking in everything Gordain was doing.
He copied the kilt adjustments and straightened his so the centre point in the tartan lay correctly down the middle of his body.
By some form of miracle, the twins were dressed on time, their formal Highland attire transforming them into smart young men. My groomsmen.
A wave of emotion had me turning in my Ghillie Brogues to stare out of the tower’s narrow windows. Not only was I torn up from seeing my brothers as boys no more, and from having us wear McRae tartan, but for the overwhelming fact that today, I would be wed.
There was also another far bigger reason, but I had nae idea how to handle it. It required delicacy, and God knew I had little of that.
“Now for your kilt pin. Right hand corner, through the top layer and pointing down. That’s it. Dinna stab yourself.” I glanced back to see Gordain supervising the finishing touches. He caught my eye and grinned, but I couldn’t return the smile. My mind was away with the fairies.
“Done. Why don’t you two go check on the guests? I can hear cars arriving, and you’ll look a handsome pair waiting on the steps.” He dismissed the twins who took off at a clatter down the stone stairs.
From the moment I’d delivered them to the seamstress for measurements, I’d expected whining, but through the whole of the wedding preparations, they’d shone with pride.
Gordain appeared at my shoulder. “Want to talk about it?” he asked, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he regarded the view.
I blew out a breath. “If ye had the choice to ask a question, and get an answer that might send you either wild with delight or down in the dumps, which would you choose?”
“Depends on how much rides on knowing there and then.” He watched me. “Can I help? Go find out something for ye?”
I turned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Nae. But I appreciate the offer. I need to get my head on straight. This thing starts in under an hour, and I’m a wreck.”
Gordain’s gaze turned speculative. “How about a dram? If we’re going full traditional, we should be well on our way to merry by now.”
“Aye to that.” We had more than a few wedding traditions to the McRae name, many of which centred around getting blind drunk. Gordain and I had chosen one or two, but most had been discounted because I wouldn’t make it to the altar in one piece.
The boys had threatened me with one in particular—a hazing of the groom right after the vows, but I’d made enough of a fash to make them change their minds. At least, I prayed so.
My brother led me to a wee door embedded in the wall of his living room, then extracted a bottle and two glasses. We knocked back the shot—our own fine whisky made right here on McRae land—both grimacing.
“However was Da addicted to this stuff? I can’t imagine putting a bottle of that away. How would ye get anything done?” Gordain placed the bottle back. Neither of us drank often, so the thought was a strange one.
“He didn’t,” I said, and Gordain hummed in agreement.
Fortified, we moved to the door. “Ye ken, I’m not sure the boys and I ever thanked you,” Gordain said, dragging it open, the sound of wedding preparations echoing up.
“Thanked me for what?”
“You held the family together in the hardest of times. I hate to imagine what would’ve happened if you hadnae stepped up.
The castle would have been sold off long ago.
We’d have all been living separately. Now you’re getting married, starting a family of your own.
I just want you to know how proud we all are. ”
“Don’t, man. The twins have already laid it on thick this morning.” With my emotions peaking, I shoved him away. He stumbled into the stairwell and caught himself on the curved stone wall before he jogged down the steps, chuckling. I followed, my thoughts even more scattered.
At the bottom, James waited.
“Fitz. Got any words of wisdom for our groom?” Gordain asked. “We’re trying to make him weep like a babe. It’s tradition.”
Our friend gave me a mischievous smile and straightened his collar. Not being a McRae, he didn’t wear a kilt of our tartan, but I’d had a cravat made for him from the same bolt of material. He wore it with pride.
“I’d say listen to your wife. More importantly, because she wants to see you now.”
“She can’t!”
The two men blinked at my protest.
“It would be bad luck,” I added, but then again, I’d be able to ask her the question that had been bugging me all night.
Ever since I’d found the receipt for a pregnancy test on the dresser. Three kits, to be exact.
“She insisted, but you don’t have long. People are arriving, and we’ll need to get in position.” James ushered me forward.
“Christ,” I muttered, but I jogged after him, my sporran banging against my nether regions with every step.
We crossed the rear of the great hall, and I raised a hand to the relatives hollering my name. James led me into the kitchens, bustling with caterers, then up the back steps to the bedroom hall. At the staircase to my solar, he stopped.
“She’s upstairs, alone. Here, put on this blindfold when you get to the top.” James handed me a length of cloth. “And good luck.”
“Wait.” I grabbed his arm. “I’m glad you came back. I know your own family is your priority now, but I want you to know you’re as much my brother as my own blood.”
Since he’d left us, life for James had turned a sharp corner, with no end of legal issues and high drama.
Half an hour ago, as we’d dressed for the wedding, I’d caught sight of his scarred skin, and my heart hurt for all he’d been through.
Yet, despite everything, he’d turned into one of the best people I knew.
And he’d shown up for me today. The love I felt for my boys welled.
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. You’ve been the best of friends to me, and I’m so proud to stand at your side.”
He dragged me into a hard hug, and I swallowed yet more emotion. We both laughed as we separated, and I eyed the stairs, ready to go.
“You know what this is about, don’t you?”
A smile broached his face. “Go. Find out.”
Then he left, and I was alone, my blood warming at the thought of being near Mathilda again. A single night of being apart and I’d missed her more than I could bear. I’d hated it. Gordain had bolted the tower door to stop me breaking my own rules.
I leapt the stairs in long steps, rushed to tie the blindfold, then knocked on the door. “Only enter if you’re devastatingly handsome and unable to see me,” my woman’s voice called through the wood.
I swung open the door and strode in, immediately smacking my shin into a piece of furniture. Must have been moved by the bridal party; I knew this place like the back of my hand.
“Oof.” I winced and closed the door behind me. “Where are ye, lass?”
“Here. On the sofa.”
Her voice came from right ahead. With care, I moved forward. “Can ye see me?”
“No. I didn’t want bad luck for either of us, but I couldn’t wait to see you. Well, be near you.”
I dragged in a breath, detecting her perfume over the standard castle scent of old wood and even older stone. “Can I hold you? I need to feel you. I hated sleeping alone last night.”
“I did, too. Let’s never do it again.”
Material rustled, then a tentative hand touched my shoulder. I grasped it and pulled my bride into my arms. A rush of love and happiness flooded me right then, and my cock woke up and started paying attention. “God, I’ve missed you.”
Mathilda nestled her face into my chest then drew back. “Are you wearing your kilt?” Her voice held mischief.
“Aye.”
“Do you have anything on underneath?”
I found her hand and dragged it over my knee. “Find out for yourself.”
Her laughter rang loud in the room, but she didn’t explore further. “There’s time for that later. I have something to tell you first. Two things, actually.”
My smile dropped. “What is it?”
In the short time we’d been living together, my sole aim, beside making her happier than she knew possible, was to get Mathilda pregnant. She wanted babies, so did I. It had become an obsession.
Silence met my ears. Then, “We did it.”
My jaw dropped. “You mean…”
“Three tests. This morning. Little pink crosses or double blue lines on all.”
Like a felled Scots Pine, I crashed to my knees. “You’re sure.”
“Completely,” she said with a laugh.
“You’ve made me the happiest man alive. Do you think it’s twins? Aye, it’ll be two boys. Brawny and strong, both of them. Though Heaven help you if they’re the size I was as a newborn.”
She giggled all the more as I wrapped careful arms around her waist and kissed her belly through the silky material of her wedding dress.
“I don’t think twins follow the male line. Besides, what if they are girls?”
“I’d be ecstatic, but it won’t happen. My family only has boys.”
“Mine only has girls. No boy cousins.”
She ran her fingers into my hair, and we held one another close, mutual joy radiating from us.
“I want to tell everyone,” I murmured, so fucking over the moon. Also, still horny. “I can’t keep secrets. My brothers will know the second they see me.”
“Maybe, but you have to wait.”
“I also really want you right now. One night away from you was torture.” I found the edge of her skirts and lifted them, finding her smooth thighs and, oh Christ, a garter belt.
“Should we wait? I want you begging for it by the time the ceremony is over.”
I groaned and stood. “Do we have to do all that? Let’s stay here.”
“Callum McRae,” she admonished. “I’ve spent weeks putting this wedding together. I want people to admire the arrangements and coo over how beautiful it all is.”
“They’re getting free food and alcohol, they’ll be admiring and cooing either way.” I ran my hand to her face and tilted her chin. Then I kissed her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Maybe we could have a quickie right now.”
Our kiss heated. Her hands skimmed my thighs, I grabbed her backside, and she squeaked. Right at that second, a knock rattled the door.