Epilogue
They married in the church on the hill. The Circle shone bright from the altar above.
Some four years later their son Connor played on the beach below Castle McDonough. His two-year-old-sister Madeline—or Maddy—as they called her—was asleep on a blanket, her bottom high in the air.
Home was Gleneden, but they always spent part of the summer here in Ireland.
Connor wielded a stick like a sword. “I am a pirate,” he declared, “so you’d best beware.”
Alec gave a mock sigh and glanced at his wife, walking barefoot in the sand. “Have you been telling him about the pirating days of Grace O’Malley?”
Maura feigned reproach. “My love, have you been telling him tales of the Black Scotsman?”
A slow, wicked grin edged along Alec’s lips. “Well, it is in the blood.” He got to his feet. “Connor!”
Connor ran up. With black hair and blue eyes, he was the image of his father.
“Let me tell you a tale, lad. Many years ago there was once a pirate ship that set anchor in the bay.”
Connor pointed his stick. “There, Papa?”
“That very spot, lad. But the pirate, well, he found himself smitten with the lady who lived in the castle there.” Alec pointed to Castle McDonough, perched atop the bluff.
“And when he saw this lovely lady—” With an exaggerated move, Alec spun his wife around and into his arms. “—he kissed her like this.”
Alec availed himself of his wife’s sweet lips, a long, lingering kiss that was interrupted only when an insistent little voice said, “Papa! What happened then?”
“Well, when the pirate boarded his ship, he had jewels in his chest—and the lady he’d kissed.”
“Jewels,” breathed Connor. “Do you think it could truly happen, Papa?”
Alec gazed tenderly into his wife’s laughing eyes. “My boy,” he said huskily, “I think it already has.”