Epilogue #2
Castle McRae was still standing when I halted my motorbike outside, and I strode into the great hall, expecting a flood.
The flagstone floor was bone dry, and silence reigned. No hammering or clanking of old pipes.
“Hello?” I called, marching into the kitchens.
“Grab him!” came a howl.
I whipped around but too late—Callum got an arm around my shoulders. Then, in a coordinated attack, the twins swept my legs from the floor, holding one each.
“What are ye doing!” I yelped, wrestling at their grips.
“We’ve got rapid-fire bridegroom trials to put ye through. Did ye think you’d get away with it by eloping?” Ally cackled.
“How could ye think we’d let it lie?” Wasp added, tutting for good measure.
Callum only smirked at me, and I swore a blue streak back which only made them laugh.
Despite my struggles, and I was a big man, they carried me through the great hall and out into the fresh air.
“Where are you taking me? My wife knows you’ve got me. She willnae let ye get away with this,” I threatened, but a grin split my face.
The only thing I’d regretted about marrying Ella in Las Vegas was this—not having my family there to celebrate with me. In every other way, I couldn’t care less. I only wanted her.
My brothers carried me past the cars and out onto the track that led to the loch.
“Wait!” a sudden panic hit me. I’d assumed they were going to put me into a car, but no. There was nothing this way but the water.
They reached the beach, manhandling me all the way.
“Ah ha. You caught him. Nice work.” James’s voice had me lifting my gaze. He appeared at my head, a bucket in his hands.
“What the hell? Help me!” I made pleading eyes.
“When I married Beth, you made me run, climb, and covered me in mud. My friend, it’s your turn.” Delight lit James’s eyes, and he upended the bucket, slopping freezing cold muddy water over me. It soaked my hair, my shirt, and ran under my kilt.
“Argh!” I yelled. “You arseholes. That’s freezing! And you’ve ruined my clothes. I was going to wear this tonight!”
“Tough luck, groom. Stage two, lads!” James crowed.
My brothers bayed agreement and hauled me down the boat launch, their boots clattering on the wooden planks.
“No. Don’t you even think about it,” I threatened, eyeing the grey loch.
“Ready? Three,” Ally counted. “Two. One. Throw him!”
They swung me wide then released me into the water. I had just enough time to hold my breath before hitting the choppy surface. It rushed over me, soaking me through.
Oh FUCK, that was cold.
I pawed the water, surfacing and coughing, glaring at the laughing swines.
“You wait.” I carved my hand through the water, swiping a wave at them.
Ally danced back a step from the spray. Still, he was close enough.
I launched up and grabbed his leg. “Got ye!”
My youngest brother yelped, and I dragged him back with me, sinking down. Underwater, we shoved at each other, then kicked up.
“Who’s the one getting married?” Ally grinned, loch water running down his face.
I huffed a breath, splashed him again, and swam for shore, stripping off my ruined shirt as I reached dry land. Realisation hit me. I was the one getting married. I was married, but clearly my wife had set this up. That lass… Whenever I thought I understood her, she surprised me again and again.
My brothers escorted me back to the castle and up to Callum’s solar. Sodden and bare-chested, I dripped on every step.
“What next?” I asked. “I’m not going to be able to dry my clothes in time.”
Callum made a ta-da gesture and opened his bedroom. I peered in. Suit bags hung from the wardrobes. The first was open, a smart dark-grey jacket, waistcoat, and a kilt in McRae tartan on display. I gaped.
“Fit for a groom, aye? We’ll all be matching as we stand up beside ye.”
“Stand beside me?”
My older brother punched my shoulder then shoved me towards his en suite. “Aye. Now stop dripping on my floor and get ready. We’ve got a ceremony to attend.”
I choked on a laugh then followed orders, getting myself into a hot shower and scrubbing the mud from my hair. A groom at last, I’d have my wife in my arms soon. I needed to look the part.
In Braithar’s great hall, Ella waited, dressed in white. Angelic, gorgeous, and beaming at me. The most breathtaking lass that ever lived.
Candles lit the corners of the space, white flowers decorated a makeshift altar, and our family and friends waited.
I gaped at my wife then spared a glance at our audience.
The three bairns wore little tartan outfits.
Behind them, Mathilda dabbed her eyes, and Beth sobbed loudly.
Earlier, we’d found out that she was pregnant again and we’d already hugged over that.
Jordie gave me a thumbs-up, his wife cuddled into his side.
At my back, my smartly dressed brothers made rumbles of encouragement, and I shook myself out of my stupor and marched forwards.
“I know you weren’t expecting this,” my wife said, “but you gave everything to me with your proposal, and I wanted to give a little back.”
“You give me the world just by being in it,” I replied, taking her hands and holding tight.
Ella drew a deep breath. “You made beautiful vows on our wedding day, but I stumbled, overwhelmed. I have a couple more things to say. Gordain, when I met you, I made a huge mistake. I didn’t snap you up right away.
It took me a year to correct that error, and today is all about showing you how I’ll never let you go. ”
“As if I’d let you,” I replied and squeezed her hands.
“Good, because I have something for you.” She reached out, and Beth handed her a box. Ella opened it and removed the contents, holding it up for me to see.
A solid gold ring. Flat-edged, thick and masculine.
“It’s inscribed with our initials and our wedding date,” she pointed out, then placed it on my finger.
I stared at it for a wee moment. I’d wanted this, and she’d remembered. I’d wear it with pride.
“Take yours off,” I replied, my voice coming out rough.
She did, and I held her fingers, the ring poised to go back on.
“You’re my life,” I said simply. “My whole life. You’re beautiful and you’re mine.”
“We’re each other’s,” she agreed.
To rapturous applause, we kissed, cementing our commitment to the other.
Then the party started.
Wine flowed and music played. With half the people in the area attending, we celebrated all we’d gained.
Midway through the evening, my brother took to the makeshift stage. “If I can have your attention.” Callum’s big voice boomed, and the music and chatter ceased in an instant.
I took Ella’s hand and crossed the floor, going to stand next to him. My wife gave me a questioning look but followed. If she’d had a surprise up her sleeve, so did I.
“As many of ye ken, I have recently been made chief of Clan McRae,” Callum announced.
“Aye, good for ye,” called one of his tenants.
“What you might not ken is that my brother here is the rightful heir to the title of laird.”
“Aye, that we did,” the same man said loudly. “Young Gordain should’ve been heir, but yer da had it his own way, God rest his soul.”
Callum blinked. “Well, today, I’m passing the title of laird to my brother. We’ll lead the clan together, just like in old times.”
At my side, Ella’s lips parted. “You’re going to be laird?”
I grinned at her, blocking out the rest of the conversation. “I am.”
Applause echoed in the room.
“You’re my lady officially now,” I told Ella.
She beamed. “We’re Laird and Lady McRae?”
“We are.” We dropped from the stage, and the music started again.
Ella melted into my arms, and we slow danced, holding on tight.
A short while later, Ally caught my eye and grinned, tilting his head at the rear corner of the hall. Wasp and Taylor disappeared down a passageway, and I rolled my eyes at my brother. His twin never did anything without careful thought, but I hoped he knew what he was doing.
Ella snuggled closer, and I forgot everything but her.
It was everything I’d dreamed about—being here with my wife and my family. Having a position of pride, a job I loved with a thriving business and, at the end of every day, I got to come home to Ella in Braithar. What man could want for more?
Not this one.
“I love you,” I spoke in Ella’s ear. “My lass, my life, my hero.”
The End.
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