Epilogue
Perhaps a second wedding ceremony was a little excessive.
Skye had decided that she didn’t care. After all, her last wedding had been something of a disappointment, on account of the kidnapping.
“Beautiful,” Helena sighed, taking a step back and smiling. “Oh, I’m so glad to be at yer wedding, love.”
Skye laughed, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. The gown was made of Bryden tartan, with pearls sewn into the hem. She’d decided that she liked that style, and it made a clicking sound as she walked, making people get out of her way. Hard not to enjoy that.
“Ye were at me wedding before, Maither.”
“Aye, but that was a political arrangement.” Helena chuckled. “This is the real thing.”
She offered her arm, and Skye took it, the two of them drifting out of the room and along the hallway.
Laughter and music drifted up from the Great Hall, where the party was waiting.
Renewing their vows was all well and good, but Skye had decided to have a party. She appeared at the banister of the gallery, leaning over. The crowd beneath let out a rollicking cry of delight, raising their glasses and applauding madly.
Evander stood in the middle of the crowd, his head tilted up, looking at her with a smile.
Helena dropped her arm. “Go to him, lass,” she whispered.
Skye threw a smile back at her mother and began to descend the stairs, her hand trailing over the banister.
The crowd parted, creating a space for her and Evander to move together. The floor almost seemed to ripple under her feet. The music died down, but she knew they were only taking a breath, preparing to play again in earnest.
“Ye look beautiful, love,” Evander whispered, holding out his hand.
She took it, their fingers entwining.
“Ye daenae look so bad yerself,” she responded, letting her gaze rake down his loose white linen shirt and thick kilt. “Are ye ready to dance?”
He pulled a face. “Never, I’m afraid.”
She laughed loudly, tilting her head back and letting him spin her in a slow, lazy circle.
“Skye!” came a familiar voice.
Skye broke into a smile, turning to see her cousin elbowing his way through the crowd, towing Nora behind him.
Now that she had properly met Nora—she didn’t count the strange, hurried meeting that day at the Leanan Festival—she had decided that she liked her.
Nora was whip-smart, determined, and rangy. Skye would never have imagined that her cousin would choose a woman like Nora, or that Nora would choose a man like him.
And yet here they were.
“Sorry, sorry, I am interrupting yer dance.” Creighton laughed. “I just had to speak to ye both. Congratulations! It feels like this is yer real wedding, and the last ceremony was just… oh, I daenae ken. A betrothal?”
“In a sense, it was.” Skye shrugged. “So, Creighton, are ye still planning to wage war on Clan Bryden?”
Creighton snorted, tapping his chin and pretending to think. “Ach, I daenae ken. I suppose it depends on how much ye annoy me, aye, Cousin?”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward him, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Skye laughed, slapping teasingly at his arm.
“Let the woman go, ye wretch!” Nora yelped, tugging at her husband’s arm. “Ye will tangle her hair or wrinkle her clothes.”
Creighton chuckled. “I remember this wee lass coming back from playing outside fairly coated in mud.”
“Aye, well, today is her wedding day, and I swear I’ll kill ye if ye ruin it for her!”
Creighton released Skye, wrapping his arms around his wife. “Ye ken, I am nae sure that ye will kill me,” he murmured thoughtfully, a slow smile creeping onto his face.
Nora looked as though she was fighting back a smile. “Well, maybe I’ll think about it. We’ll leave ye to yer dance now, eh?”
“Before ye go,” Skye added, “have ye seen Hunter?”
“He’s skulking in the corner, as usual,” Creighton responded, letting Nora tow him away into the crowd.
Skye watched them go, a frown creasing her brow.
“Hunter is always so stern,” she sighed. “I wish he would just relax and enjoy the party for once.”
“The man will melt when the situation is right,” Evander responded, pulling her toward him. “Now, why daenae ye go and see yer braither?”
“But our dance…”
“Our dance can wait. Ye are thinking of Hunter now, so go see him, reassure yerself that he is all right, and then we’ll dance. Aye?”
“Aye,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips.
She hung onto his hand until the last possible moment, both their arms outstretched, their fingers entwined. At last, she let go with a laugh, and the crowd swallowed them both up.
Moving through the horde of people wasn’t particularly easy for the woman of the hour. Everybody wanted to congratulate her, touch her, hug her, hold her hand, and give her their blessings.
Eventually, she reached the edge of the room, where a man stood quietly alone in a corner, sipping his whiskey.
“Hunter? What are ye doing over here?”
Hunter glanced up, blinking. “If I move much, Maither will see me. She’ll make me dance.”
Skye hid a smile. “Cannae stand dancing, eh? What’s so interesting over here?”
“There’s a wee cat,” Hunter explained, gesturing.
Skye blinked at the familiar black cat curled up on a shelf just by Hunter’s hip, purring happily. As she watched, Hunter absently stroked the cat’s head, scratching her forehead. Blackberry closed her eyes in bliss.
“Huh,” Skye muttered. “She doesnae normally like being petted by strangers.”
“Oh? She came running up to me. She’s lovely. Is this yer cat?”
Skye nodded, smiling faintly. “Evander and I adopted her when I first met him. She’s ours. I’m nae sure she likes him very much, though. He likes dogs more than cats.”
“I like cats,” Hunter murmured, smoothing back Blackberry’s ears. “I daenae have to dance, do I?”
“Nay, of course nae. I want ye to enjoy yerself, Braither.”
He held her gaze. “Now that I ken ye are happy, I can enjoy meself. Ye are happy, are ye nae?”
She nodded. “Aye. Happier than I could have thought possible. Now that I’m taken care of, when are ye going to start living?”
He blinked, offended. “I am living.”
“I mean properly. Why are ye nae in love?”
He recoiled. “I daenae want to be in love.”
She huffed, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “Just ye wait, Hunter. Ye will meet somebody who makes ye want to dance.”
He wrinkled his nose. “That sounds like a curse.”
“Maybe it is,” she called over her shoulder, hurrying back into the crowd. She caught a glimpse of her brother rolling his eyes and trying to hide a smile.
She’d barely made it two steps into the crowd before Evander appeared in front of her, catching her up in his arms and spinning her around in a tight circle.
“There ye are,” he murmured. “All well with Hunter?”
“Aye, he’s just unfriendly. Blackberry likes him, though.”
“Two unfriendly creatures together. I should have ken.”
“Enough about me cat and me braither. I’m going to ask ye once more now that the dancing has officially begun,” she laughed. “Are ye ready to dance?”
“Once again, never.”
She snorted. “Are ye ready to keep up?”
Abruptly, he pulled her tight against him, a strong arm snaking around her waist.
“Always,” he whispered.
The End?