Epilogue
ONE MONTH LATER
“All right, Nora, I need a quick decision here. Blue, or yellow?”
“Margaret, I really have bigger things on me mind than the color of yer shawl.”
“But it’s important! Today is a big day for me. Very big, in fact. One might say the biggest day of me life.”
Nora glanced away from her reflection in the mirror and lifted her eyebrows. “Today is the biggest day of yer life?” she repeated pointedly.
Margaret winced. “Well, I am nae the one actually getting married, ye are, but still. Me sister is gettin’ married today! And to a laird, of all people. Da would be proud.”
Nora bit her lip, turning her attention back to her reflection. “I think Da would be proud of us regardless. Me as a healer, and ye as a traveler.”
“Nah, he’d have wanted me to settle. He still would have loved me, though.”
A moment of silence opened up between them. Nora eyed her reflection thoughtfully.
The dress had been made specially, of course. The fabric—a rich green-gold pattern—was a gift from Helena. She was here for the wedding, of course, as was Hunter.
Everybody will be here, Nora reminded herself, with a nervous shiver. A laird’s wedding was always a big event. This wedding would solidify relations between MacColl and Bryden, too. The treaty might be signed earlier. Her marriage to Creighton would just about guarantee Skye’s safety.
Not that Skye was ever unsafe with Bryden, but Nora had heard strange rumors about how the two of them were getting on. Some rumors said they hated each other, while others said they were a little too fond of each other.
The truth will out, I suppose, Nora thought, reaching up to tweak a gold brooch sitting at her collar.
“That’s a pretty ornament,” Margaret remarked, shuffling up to stand beside her sister at the mirror, shoulder to shoulder. “Is it new?”
“Aye, it’s a gift from Creighton. Look, the front part opens up to reveal a tiny compartment. I’m goin’ to keep powdered willow bark in it. Just somethin’ to slip into wine or tea, to help with pain.”
Margaret chuckled. “Andrew thought ye were a poisoner when he first met ye. If ye had that before, he would have been convinced of it.”
“So long as he doesnae keep tellin’ folks that I’m a witch.”
“Nay, he kens better now.”
Nora glanced at her sister out of the corner of her eye. “Ye and Andrew seem to be gettin’ along well these days. I am surprised.”
Margaret reddened. “Are ye? We have a lot in common.”
“True, but he’s a wee bit anxious, is he nae? He probably prays a bit more often than ye do, too.”
“Well, I’m nae anxious about anythin’, and if he’s prayin’ for our souls, then I daenae have to bother, do I?
” Margaret responded with a wry grin. “He wants to see the world nearly as much as I do. It’s nice to meet somebody who doesnae think that I’d be happier settlin’ down and havin’ babies.
Nae that there’s anythin’ wrong with that,” she added with a grin, nudging her sister’s shoulder.
Nora nudged back, and for a moment, they stayed like that, giggling and pushing against each other.
A tap came at the door, startling them out of their childishness. Before Nora could say come in, the door flew open, and Laurie came bounding in.
“It’s me, it’s me!” she cried, beaming. “Look at me dress! Look at it!”
“Goodness, me!” Nora laughed, clapping her hands. “Why… That’s exactly the same as mine!”
Helena had, of course, asked Nora’s permission before having a matching gown made up for Laurie. Nora, of course, had agreed.
Laurie was smiling so widely her face looked ready to split in two. She spun out, the neatly pleated folds of her skirts swinging out around her.
“Beautiful,” Nora said, and meant it. “How do ye feel? Do ye like it?”
“It’s the nicest dress I’ve ever had,” Laurie breathed. “It’s me favorite. And I’m so glad that we can match!”
“So am I,” Nora crouched down, putting herself on eye level with the little girl. “Ye ken, when I marry Creighton, that’ll make us proper sisters.”
Laurie’s eyes sparkled. “I ken. I cannae wait. And if ye and Crey have babies, that means that I willnae have to be laird one day!”
“And ye would rather nae be?”
Laurie nodded tightly. “I daenae want to be a laird. I want to go places and do things. See things.”
“And so ye shall,” Nora murmured, a wave of affection crashing over her. Reaching out, she gently pinched Laurie’s cheek, making the little girl wriggle and beam.
“Nae to interrupt,” Margaret said gently. “But we should think about goin’ soon. Some of us have a weddin’ to get to.”
Nora glanced up at the clock, and her eyes widened. “Brides can be late, cannae they?”
“Aye, but nae too late,” Margaret mumbled. “Ye daenae want him to think that ye have changed yer mind.”
“Oh, Crey willnae think that,” Laurie answered confidently.
“I heard him say to Hunter that he loves Nora properly, and that he’d never marry anybody else.
He said he was happy, but hadnae expected to be.
He seemed surprised. Hunter didnae say anythin’, but Aunt Helena laughed and said that she told him so.
I wasnae meant to be listenin’ to their conversation,” she added, a little guiltily. “But I couldnae help overhearin’.”
Nora chuckled, getting to her feet. “I ken the feelin’. One day, I’ll tell ye about all the things I couldnae help overhearin’, and how it all worked out for me. For now, let’s concentrate on gettin’ down to the chapel.”
“And let’s concentrate on ye calmin’ down a little,” Margaret mumbled, sliding her arm through her sister’s. “Nae much can go wrong at a weddin’.”
“I am nae a lucky person,” Nora muttered darkly.
“Then ye are due a good long run of the stuff, I daresay!”
The small MacColl chapel was packed to capacity. As she stood outside the locked doors, Nora could hear the noise and conversation of people inside. Everyone was waiting, all of them waiting for her.
“Should I go in first?” Laurie asked, peering at the closed door.
When Nora didn’t immediately answer, Margaret crouched down before her, smiling encouragingly.
“Aye, I think that’s a good idea, lass. Ye have the rings, daenae ye? Why daenae ye go in and stand by Creighton, so he kens that ye are there and that ye have the rings?”
Laurie nodded eagerly, glad to have something to do. She trotted off, slipping inside the chapel. When she eased open the door, a wave of heat and noise curled out.
Nora let out a ragged exhale, closing her eyes. Margaret straightened up once Laurie was gone, and eyed her sister curiously.
“Cold feet?”
“Nay, nothin’ like that. I… I’m just anxious, I suppose.”
“Anxious on yer weddin’ day? That’s normal, I’ve been told. More than normal. Gettin’ married is a big thing, a serious thing. But ye love Creighton, daenae ye?”
“Aye, God, aye. Of course I do. That’s never in doubt, I just…
” Nora paused, tightening her grip on the flowers Helena had prepared for her.
Fresh that morning, they smelled sweet and floral, a delicious aroma drifting up toward her.
“I’m afraid that I willnae be the wife he deserves.
I’m afraid that I’ll let him down…” trailing off, she shook her head.
“I never imagined marriage. And certainly nae marrying a laird. As Lady MacColl, I’ll have responsibilities. For once, it’ll matter what I do.”
“I hate to break it to ye, Nora, but it’s always mattered what ye do,” Margaret sighed. “Ye are a healer. Ye are the difference between life and death all the time. Gettin’ married is almost, well, less important.”
Nora elbowed her. “Ye are just jealous. Or perhaps ye have weddin’ bells on yer own horizon?”
Margaret gave a quick, secret smile. “Never ye mind that. Now, do ye want me to walk ye down to the altar, or will ye walk yerself?”
“Meself, I think.”
Margaret nodded. “Very well. I’ll go in, and I’ll see ye soon.”
With a final smile and a hug, Margaret slipped away, tiptoeing into the chapel.
That left Nora alone, standing before the closed doors.
For a moment, she closed her eyes, listening to the joyful buzz behind the doors.
She thought about Laurie, excited to finally match her gown.
She thought about Helena and Hunter, sitting eagerly in the pew.
She thought about Evander, who had traveled all this way with his strange not-betrothed.
She thought of Creighton, waiting for her, and her heart quickened a few beats.
Who would have thought that it would end like this?
Breathing out slowly, Nora opened her eyes. She strode toward the doors and pushed them open. They swung wide, and every pair of eyes in the place turned to face her. She stood where she was for a long moment, letting her gaze skim over them.
Everybody she had expected to see was here.
Evander craned his neck from somewhere in the middle and gave her a quick smile.
He sat beside Marcus, who Nora knew was just relieved that Creighton was finally marrying.
Theo smiled a little more genuinely. Andrew sat beside him, with Margaret beside him.
Nora began to walk up the aisle, taking in the faces. There was Laurie, kneeling on the pew facing backward, grinning like a cat that had just made off with a whole trout. There were Helena and Hunter.
Me new family, Nora realized, her chest tightening.
All of the faces turned her way paled into nothing when she met Creighton’s eyes.
He watched her approach, unblinkingly, eyes dark and heavy. An answering hunger tugged at the pit of Nora’s gut.
Later, she chided herself, almost imperceptibly increasing her pace.
The distance between them melted into nothing. Creighton watched her, never letting his eyes move from her for a minute, until she stepped up beside him.
“Ye are late,” he murmured, barely louder than a whisper.
Nora grinned. “It’s a bride’s prerogative. Did ye think I’d changed me mind? Or been kidnapped by a rival laird?”
He gave a low growl. “Kidnapped by a rival laird? Lass, if that happened, I’d tear out his lungs through his mouth.”
“That’s probably why nay rival laird would risk kidnappin’ me, then.”
Wordlessly, Creighton extended his hand. Nora placed hers in it, and long, warm fingers closed over her knuckles.
The priest began to speak, reciting the familiar wedding sermon that everyone in the room had heard at least once before.
Nora barely paid attention. Listening too closely would mean taking her eyes off Creighton, and she was not about to do that.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and warmth flowed through her veins.
“I do,” she answered aloud when the priest requested it.
“I do,” Creighton responded, his voice deep and level. Another shiver rolled down her spine.
“I now pronounce ye to be man and wife,” the priest stated, with obvious pleasure. “Ye may kiss the bride.”
Nora and Creighton turned to each other, and he lifted an eyebrow.
“Would ye mind if I kissed ye in front of all these people?” he murmured teasingly, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to him.
Nora gave a snort, looping her arms around his neck.
“Would I mind? I would be more upset if ye didnae kiss me,” she countered. “So go on, then. Kiss me.”
He did, leaning forward and fitting warm lips against hers. The world melted away, and for a delightful half-minute, everything narrowed down to the two of them. Creighton pulled back, their lips a bare half-inch apart.
“I am goin’ to spend the rest of me life smellin’ herbs,” he mumbled. “I can smell them in yer hair, on her clothes, on yer skin. Everywhere.”
“And is that a bad thing?”
He chuckled, his breath warm against her mouth. “Oh, it’s a good thing. A very, very good thing.”
The End?