Epilogue
Acool breeze came from the loch on the west side of the castle, bringing the scent of wildflowers with it. Eileen held a bunch of heather, its scent mingling with the heady smells drifting from the castle as she, Archer, Ivy, and Reid walked to the small kirk in the closest village.
She watched as woodsmoke drifted out of the kitchens and fresh hay was brought to the horses.
The smoke wasn’t the only thing in the air; there was also peace.
O’Gunn was laird no more, though there were competing stories as to what had happened to him.
Some people spoke about him being exiled, while others thought his own clan had executed him to make way for a new laird.
Either way, he’d not been seen for weeks, and it was unlikely he would ever be seen again.
Eileen smiled.
Archer had worn his finest, his green shirt matching the green banners that hung from the four corners of the castle, and had pinned a silver brooch to the tartan sash over his shoulder. A similar brooch now sat proudly on Eileen’s shoulder—a silver doe with small sapphires for eyes.
Ivy had helped her braid her hair that morning and put on a deep blue silk gown that would be comfortable enough for her to dance in later, and easy enough to remove when she and Archer lay together for the first time as man and wife.
They reached the small kirk and stopped outside.
The ceremony would commence soon, but before that, they would be handfasted.
It was a tradition important to all the clans, but Eileen held it in especially high regard.
The act of being bound to her husband was not only physical, but metaphorical.
Once the ribbon was tied, her heart was promised to him.
Her siblings had been handfasted, and she would now join them in the proud tradition.
The Laird’s mother, Lyla, stood waiting for them, as did her mother, Alba, both of them looking extremely proud. Eileen’s sisters had traveled for the wedding: Tillie, Erica, and Olivia were there with their husbands, along with her brothers: Tomas with his wife, and Reid standing tall beside them.
“Yer maither has changed completely, Archer,” Eileen noted.
“It was after I spoke with her—and, of course, when ye returned with me. She’s still nae back to her usual self, but she’s on her way there.”
“It’s gratifyin’ to see,” she said.
Calum was also there, stepping up to Ivy as soon as she arrived. He had a sly smile on his face, which Eileen suspected was because of the wedding day and seeing Ivy in her finest. He had also scrubbed up fairly well.
The minister stood to the side as the vows were spoken, before the religious ceremony took place.
Archer’s voice rose above the gathered crowd. “Before clan and fire, stone and sky, I give ye me name, Archer Fleming, Laird of Clan MacLennan. I bind meself to ye with honor, hold to ye in trust, and fight for peace until the hills are covered with heather.”
Eileen gave a tremulous smile. “I walk beside ye at the head of the clan, bearin’ yer name and mine, through storms and peace. I share yer burden and bed, and shall never turn away.”
Calum stepped forward and wrapped the cord around their wrists. As soon as he tied the knot, the crowd erupted in cheers. There was still the ceremony in the kirk to make it official, but the handfasting was what the clan had come for.
A great fire was lit in the pit by the kirk, as per the customs. It signified their love, and while it may die out, their love would endure.
Calum pushed a quaich into Archer’s hand, and he took a sip before passing it to Eileen. She took a sip, the whisky burning her throat but warming her stomach.
Archer took her hand and led her into the kirk. The congregated family, friends, and clan followed them into the church, those who could fit for the ceremony, where they slowly took their seats. After the ceremony, there would be a great feast with both their families and the entire clan.
For Eileen, her life had finally started. She was bound to Archer, and they would be together forever.
The End?