Epilogue
Castle Grant, two weeks later
Elaina’s chamber had never seemed so full of life.
From the first pale hours of morning, quiet had been impossible, not while Catriona was in attendance, and certainly not while she had taken it upon herself to oversee every ribbon, pin, fold, and fastening with all the solemn enthusiasm of a general preparing for battle.
The fire burned brightly on the hearth, softening the coolness of the day, and the room smelled faintly of lavender, warmed linen, and the fresh rushes that had been newly laid.
Sunlight fell in narrow gold bands through the windows, catching upon polished wood, brushed hair, and the pale fabric of Elaina’s gown, which seemed to hold the morning light within it.
Catriona had not been still for more than half a minute at any one time.
“Nay, nay, hold there,” she said, stepping back only to dart forward again and smooth some imagined imperfection from Elaina’s sleeve. “Though perhaps it was perfect already and I only wished tae touch it once more.”
Elaina, seated before the small table while the last details of her hair were arranged, could not help but smile at her reflection.
Catriona bent nearer, adjusting a strand with tenderness, then stood back again with her hands clasped beneath her chin. Her green eyes were shining so brightly that Elaina thought she looked near tears already, though the day had scarcely begun.
“It is such a rare thing,” Catriona sighed in a manner that was so heartfelt that it bordered on theatrical and yet was too sincere to mock, “tae marry for love, tae stand beside the man one truly wants, and tae ken he looks at nay one else in the world as he looks at ye. There is naething more important, I think. Or if there is, I dinnae care tae hear of it.”
Elaina couldn’t help but chuckle. There was something so earnest in Catriona’s happiness, so wholly untouched by envy or self-pity, that it moved her more than she could easily say.
Catriona had rejoiced in every step of this day as though it were her own heart being fulfilled, and Elaina, who had once imagined herself destined only for fear, found the generosity of such affection almost too much to bear.
She rose at last when the maids had finished, and for a moment simply stood there while Catriona looked at her in satisfaction.
“Well?” Elaina asked softly.
Catriona pressed a hand to her chest. “I think me braither shall forget his own name.”
That made Elaina laugh again, though there was a tremor of feeling beneath it. For one brief moment, she allowed herself to feel the whole of it. It was not merely the excitement, though that was there. It was the full, astonishing truth of what that day meant.
No one had chosen it for her. No father had arranged it. No bargain had secured it. No fear had driven it into being. It was hers. This life, this man, this future, they were all hers, because she had chosen them freely.
The thought settled so deeply within her that it was almost prayer.
Catriona, watching her face, came to stand beside her. “Ye are quiet.”
“I was only thinking,” Elaina whispered tenderly.
“And are yer thoughts all happy ones?”
Elaina turned, meeting her gaze with affection. “Entirely.”
Catriona gave a soft, pleased sigh. “As they ought tae be.”
Elaina looked at her for a moment longer before reaching for her hand. “And yers will be too, one day.”
Catriona blinked. “Mine?”
“Aye,” Elaina said, smiling now with a quiet certainty. “Yer time will come, too.”
To her delight, Catriona did not answer with one of her usual quick, teasing replies. Instead, she looked unexpectedly moved, her mouth curving into a smile at once bright and a little fragile.
“Ye sound very certain.”
“I am.”
“That is fortunate,” Catriona said, recovering some of her usual spirits. “Fer I confess, I had begun tae suspect that I should be obliged tae arrange everyone else’s happiness before securing any of me own.”
Elaina laughed softly, then squeezed her hand. “Ye have certainly done very well with mine.”
At that, Catriona’s expression grew tender again.
“Thank ye,” Elaina said, more quietly now. “Fer all of it. Fer welcoming me, fer standing by me, fer being… such a good sister tae me.”
It was a simple thing to say, but the words seemed to strike Catriona deeply. She drew a breath, then flung her arms around Elaina without the least regard for carefully arranged fabric.
“Oh, ye must nae say such things when I have spent so much effort preserving me composure,” she declared, though her voice was already thick with feeling.
Elaina embraced her in return, smiling against her shoulder.
When they parted, Elaina took both of Catriona’s hands in hers and looked at her with fond seriousness. “And I must congratulate ye.”
Catriona’s brows rose. “On what, pray?”
“On how much ye have learned.” Elaina’s gaze warmed. “Yer skill with healing has improved more than ye admit. Soon we shall have tae begin practicing properly thegither.”
Catriona let out a delighted laugh. “Dae ye mean it?”
“I dae. And perhaps, once there is peace enough fer it, we may even make a few visits beyond the castle. There are villages nae far off where two diligent healers might be of use.” She tipped her head very slightly. “If yer braither allows it.”
Catriona burst into outright laughter. “Me braither? Allow it? Me dear Elaina, when has Duncan Grant ever successfully denied either of us anything of consequence?”
“Nae often, I grant,” Elaina laughed.
“And certainly nae when we join forces.” Catriona gave her a knowing look. “He is doomed.”
Elaina smiled, but even as she did so, she felt another wave of tenderness pass through her, not merely for Catriona, but for the life that awaited her beyond this morning.
It would not be perfect. No life ever was. There would be sorrow still, and fear at times, and duties she had yet to understand fully. But it would be real, and chosen, and shared with those she loved. That, she thought, was enough to make even the simplest happiness feel extraordinary.
A knock sounded then at the door, discreet but unmistakably timed. One of the maids entered to say that all was ready below.
Catriona clapped her hands once, unable to contain herself. “At last!”
Elaina’s heart quickened.
She moved toward the door, then paused and looked once more around the room that had sheltered her through so much uncertainty.
It seemed strange that she should leave it now not as a fugitive, nor as a guest, nor as a woman still deciding whether to stay, but as one entirely certain of where she belonged.
Catriona, standing beside her, slipped her arm through Elaina’s with a smile radiant enough to light the whole chamber.
“Come,” she urged lovingly. “Yer bridegroom has been made tae wait long enough.”
And Elaina, smiling too, went with her. They walked together through the corridor in a hush that felt unlike any other silence Elaina had ever known. It was a silence made sacred by expectation.
The castle, though alive with movement below, seemed gentler there, as if even the stones understood what this day meant.
The nearer they came to the Great Hall, the more clearly Elaina could hear the whispering of gathered voices and the distant swell of music soft enough to stir the heart without overwhelming it.
When they reached the doors, Catriona stopped and turned to her.
For once, she did not speak. Her bright eyes shone with too much feeling for easy teasing, though joy still danced there as naturally as light upon water.
She took Elaina’s hands, squeezed them tightly, and then rose to press a kiss to her cheek.
“Ye are about tae make me braither the happiest man in Scotland,” she whispered. “Dinnae keep him waiting too long.”
Elaina laughed softly, though her throat felt suddenly tight. Then Catriona gave her one last radiant smile and slipped through the side entrance into the hall, leaving Elaina alone before the great doors.
She stood there alone, drawing breath. Her heart was beating so hard that she could feel it in her hands, in her throat, in her very lips. Yet beneath it all, there was a peace so profound it steadied everything else. Every step she was about to take belonged to her.
Then, the doors opened.
The sound of the hall reached her all at once, and so did the light. The Great Hall had been transformed. Fresh greenery and flowers had been worked along the beams and around the front of the room, softening the strength of stone with living beauty. Faces turned as one. The murmur stilled.
And at the far end, waiting for her, stood Duncan.
In that moment, everything else fell away. He looked more handsome than she had ever seen him, though the handsomeness of it was not merely in his features, fine though they were, nor in the dark richness of his wedding attire.
It was in his expression, in the way his eyes found her at once and held her as though he had forgotten that anyone else in the world existed. It was also in the unmistakable wonder of a man who loved, and knew himself loved in return.
Elaina began to walk. She scarcely felt the floor beneath her slippers.
The hall, the guests, the flowers, the music…
all of it became a kind of dream through which she moved toward the only reality that mattered.
Duncan never looked away. With every step she took, he seemed to welcome her more and more.
At last, she reached him. He took her hand as though it were the most precious thing ever placed in his keeping, allowing his fingers to close around hers with a reverence that sent a little shiver through her.
Then, she heard him whisper words meant only for her. “Me Elaina, ye are lovelier than the morning light itself, and brighter than any sun that ever rose.”
The sweetness of it went straight to her heart. Elaina smiled up at him, and if her eyes filled a little, she did not care.
The ceremony began. The proper words had been spoken, the witnesses had stood in all the right places, and vows had been exchanged before God and before all assembled. But in the moment itself, it passed for Elaina like a beautiful blur.
She heard the voice of the officiant, which was grave and measured.
She heard her own when it came time to answer, though it seemed to belong to someone more certain than she had ever been.
She heard Duncan’s vows, spoken in that deep steady voice she had first trusted and then come to love, and each promise seemed to settle around her like the careful laying of a foundation beneath their new life.
When she spoke her own vows, she did so looking only at him.
There was no one else, not her father, not Lachlan MacKenzie, not the fearful girl who had once fled into the dark believing she would forever be at the mercy of other people’s will.
She spoke her vows only for Duncan, who was standing before her with love in his eyes and her hand held fast in his own.
And then, all at once, came the words that seemed to ring louder than all the rest.
“Ye may kiss the bride.”
Elaina scarcely had time to draw breath before Duncan stepped closer.
His hand rose lightly to her cheek, so tenderly that the touch itself felt like a vow renewed, and then he kissed her.
It was soft, lingering, and filled with such devotion that Elaina felt the whole of her new life begin in that single moment.
All that had come before, the fear, the struggle, the misunderstandings and the losses, seemed to fall gently behind them, transformed into the path that had led there.
This kiss was different from all the others. It was sweeter and safer. It held not merely love, but home.
When at last he drew back, the hall around them had vanished again, blurred by happiness and by the tears she could not quite keep from rising.
Duncan’s forehead rested briefly against hers, and his smile was the smile of a man who had found everything he had once believed himself destined to live without.
And Elaina, standing beside him as his wife at last, knew with quiet certainty that that life, that love, and that future were hers, freely chosen, wholly cherished, and only just beginning.
The truth has come to light, and the worst has passed for Elaina and Duncan, or so they believe. Return to the Extended Epilogue to witness a revelation that will change their future forever… and discover why their greatest trial may still lie ahead.