Epilogue
Flora strolled across the moors with her husband, savoring the last hours of calm before the storm.
It was hard to believe a year had passed since they’d returned to Breacachadh.
But Mary’s wedding to Allan was only a few days away, and soon the guests would be arriving for the week-long celebration, provoking a mix of nervousness and anticipation.
For the first time in years, all of her brothers and sisters would be in the same place at the same time—except for Hector, who was still the reluctant guest of Argyll.
She sighed contentedly. That dark day seemed a lifetime ago.
The late summer sun beat down hard and bright, intensifying the vibrant panoply of colorful flowers strewn across the countryside.
She inhaled deeply, the sweet, pungent scent a gentle reminder of nature’s bounty this year.
Everywhere she looked were signs of the largesse that had befallen them since they’d returned to Breacachadh. It seemed almost … magical.
“Do you think she’s happy for us?” She spoke her thoughts aloud.
Lachlan gazed at her with a quizzical look in his face. “Who?”
“Elizabeth Campbell.”
He grinned, and her heart caught. The boyish look on his face was a testament to the transformation wrought by happiness.
He was lighter than before, relaxed. The clan thrived, and the constant struggle he’d faced since the death of his father had come to a welcome end.
But she knew it was more than that. Their love had been tested by the events of last summer, but as a result it had only grown stronger.
“I thought you weren’t superstitious,” he said.
“I’m not. But look around. You have your castle back—with the Privy Council’s approval, thanks to my cousin.
The keep has been returned to its splendor, the crops are flourishing, the cattle are fat and ready for market, the storms that have hit the other islands have passed us by.
And then there’s …” She glanced back and forth between them meaningfully.
His mouth twitched. “Ah yes, there’s that.”
He turned to her, giving her a view of the tiny bundle he held in his arms. Her heart swelled the way it always did when she saw them together.
Nothing could be more moving than the sight of her big, strong husband holding their tiny son in his arms. John, named for the uncle who’d unwittingly brought them together, with his determined little chin and striking blue eyes so like his father’s.
Lachlan leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on the lips, before dropping another one on the downy head of the matching bundle in her arms—Janet, named in memory of Flora’s mother.
Twins. Nature’s most magnificent bounty.
He met her gaze in perfect understanding: They had been blessed indeed. “Aye, lass, I think she’s found her peace.”
As if in answer, the sun caught the silver of the brooch that he wore to secure his plaid, and it flashed like a brilliant heavenly star. The amulet that had once borne a curse had become an enduring symbol of their love.
She smiled, looking deep into his beloved eyes, her heart swelling with love for her incredible husband and precious babes. Elizabeth found hers, and I’ve found mine.