Epilogue
One month after the battle...
The entire castle seemed transformed.
Where only a month earlier the courtyard had echoed with the clash of steel and the cries of wounded men, now it rang with laughter, the hammering of wood, music, and the endless bustle of wedding preparations.
The flag flying atop the towers and fresh banners sporting the Gordon and Grant arms combined snapped proudly in the autumn wind outside.
Indoors, servants hurried through the hallways carrying displays of fresh flowers, trays of polished silver, bolts of fine cloth, and enough food to feed half the Highlands.
Malcolm himself was seeing to more than sufficient alcoholic drink of all varieties for the enjoyment of their wedding guests.
“It’ll be the happiest day of me life, and I want tae mark it with a grand cèilidh that all the guests will tell their grandbairns about,” Malcolm had told Catriona a few days before, clearly not completely joking. She had been so touched by the sentiment, she had immediately kissed him.
The ceremony was happening in two days’ time, and this afternoon Catriona was closeted in her chamber with her friend and welcome guest Sorcha Forbes.
Sorcha had arrived the day before in a state of high excitement.
She was to be one of Catriona’s bridesmaids alongside Elaina, who was due to arrive at the castle later that day with Duncan.
The two women were busy trying on their new gowns and slippers and, intermittently, discussing with Isla such vital topics as how best to style the bride’s hair for the big day. Amidst all this, however, the main focus of events was the wedding dress.
Catriona held out her skirts and glanced down at the ivory silk spread around her feet, then at the reflection in the long looking glass.
The young woman with auburn hair and the perfect silk dress looked back at her with familiar green eyes.
She looked so elegant and sophisticated, Catriona hardly recognized herself.
She turned slowly before the mirror, pleased with the result. She hoped Malcolm would feel the same.
“Och, ’tis so beautiful, I love it,” she told Sorcha, who was standing behind her, both hands clasped to her chest in wistful admiration of Catriona’s refection.
“Och, Cat, ye look like a queen already,” she declared, her eyes a little misty. “If Malcolm daesnae weep when he sees ye in that gown, then the man has nae heart at all.”
“’Tis a gift from Malcolm. It arrived yesterday, along with a complete matching trousseau, carefully packed in a cedar chest, sprinkled with dried rosebuds and lavender,” she told Sorcha, loving towards her future husband.
“But that’s nae all he gave me,” she said, stepping over to the vanity and inviting Sorcha to take a look at what lay within a selection of velvet boxes. “These came with the gown.”
Sorcha’s brows lifted as Catriona opened the boxes and she took in the stunning array of jewels spread out on the vanity. Jewels. Sapphires, rubies, emeralds, diamonds, and pearls set in gold. A tiara, necklaces, brooches, bangles, bracelets, rings and earrings lay on velvet beds.
“My God, they’re beautiful, Cat, truly beautiful. Some of them look really old,” Sorcha said, tentatively touching one obvious antique ring with a large emerald embedded in it.
“Aye, they’re family heirlooms,” Catriona confided, feeling absurdly proud of being entrusted with the care of the precious objects.
“Och, Catriona, he has got a heart! I never would have guessed Malcolm is such a romantic. Ach, ye’re so lucky. If ye were nae me friend, I’d be jealous,” Sorcha joked.
Then, as Catriona shut the jewels away again, she added more seriously, “The fact he’s given them tae ye means more than just the gems themselves, Cat.”
Catriona smiled at her. “Aye, I ken. That’s what makes the gift so special. Och, I cannae wait tae marry the man!”
Sorcha burst into delighted laughter. “Aye, and he certainly cannae wait tae marry ye! He’s very different to how he was on me last visit.
He was so stern and mysterious then. Ye should hear what Ewan says about him now.
Apparently, the great Laird Gordon cannae walk down a hall without draggin’ his future wife into an alcove fer a kiss. ”
Heat rushed into Catriona’s cheeks. “That happened once, I think,” she lied weakly, unable to help smiling at the memory of so many kisses of the type Sorcha described. Personally, she was not complaining.
“Three times,” Sorcha corrected. “Ewan claims he witnessed it three times.”
Catriona laughed. “We’re tae be wed, and we’re in love. What daes he expect?”
The fell to helping each other out of their wedding outfits, hanging the gowns up on the wardrobe doors next to Elaina’s bridesmaid’s dress before redressing in their ordinary winter dresses.
“Well, I just hope ye dinnae start weepin’ in the middle of the ceremony, Cat, because if ye start, I shall too, and we’ll likely ruin all the hard work the maids have put in makin’ us look lovely fer the occasion.”
Catriona laughed again and hugged her friend.
“Ye look very beautiful in yer bridesmaid’s gown, Sorcha. Thank ye fer agreein’ tae be me bridesmaid. It means an awful lot tae me tae have ye here. I still cannae believe ye came all this way again so soon after yer last visit.”
“Nonsense. I told ye, I expected tae return. I was only waitin’ fer the weddin’ invitation tae arrive, which I kenned it would,” Sorcha told her. “I wouldnae miss this fer all the world, especially as I get tae play such an important role in the ceremony.”
“I couldnae dae it without ye. Ye’ve become very dear tae me, Sorcha. I wish ye’d think about stayin’ fer a few weeks after the weddin’. I love havin’ ye here.”
Sorcha squeezed her hand warmly. “Ye’re very dear tae me too, Cat. But I’ll come and stay fer a while after ye and Malcolm have settled intae married life a bit. I dinnae want tae be a gooseberry.”
Isla arrived with a tray of tea and toasted bannocks. The two friends sat down at the tea table and refreshed themselves as they chatted.
They were giggling over Sorcha’s recounting of Kenneth’s latest flirtatious adventures among the region’s eligible single ladies when they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps and male voices out in the hallway.
Catriona’s heart started skipping joyfully when she heard Malcolm’s unmistakable voice say, “Move aside, Ewan.”
Sorcha’s eyes widened in delight. “He’s back again!” she exclaimed softly.
“Ye’ve already seen her three times today, surely that’s enough,” Ewan argued on the other side of the door, seemingly having tasked himself with keeping his brother out.
“And I’ll see her a fourth if I please, and as many times after that as I deem necessary. Now move aside,” Malcolm replied in a tone that brooked no argument.
The women looked at each other and stifled their giggles.
“’Ye’re a bloody nuisance, man, go away,” Ewan’s muffled voice protested. Catriona had no doubt he was grinning.
There was the sound of a tussle, then Ewan saying, “Ow. That was unnecessary, Braither.”
The door swung open, revealing Ewan rubbing his chin ruefully. Malcolm strode inside wearing dark green velvet and high-top boots still dusty from the outside. He looked so utterly gorgeous, with his windblown hair, cleanshaven jaw, and a big smile on his face, Catriona melted all over again.
His dark eyes immediately found her and softened with such open adoration that Sorcha made a theatrical sound of despair.
“Och, Lord, he’s hopelessly gone,” she muttered, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead like a winsome ingenue.
Malcolm nodded to her in greeting, then ignored her entirely as his gaze settled on his beloved.
“Cat.”
The single word was spoken with warmth, and she blushed with pleasure from head to toe. He crossed the chamber toward her without hesitation, large hands settling at her waist before he kissed her thoroughly despite Sorcha’s scandalized gasp, which was immediately followed by a giggle.
“Malcolm!” Catriona laughed breathlessly against his mouth, wanting very much to throw herself into the kiss but too bashful to do so. “Sorcha’s here.”
“Aye, I noticed,” he murmured, kissing her again anyway.
Sorcha threw up both hands. “See? This is exactly what I meant!”
Malcolm finally looked over at her with a complete lack of shame. “Then ye’ll ken by now there’s nay point complainin’ about it.”
Catriona could not help laughing as well, secretly delighted. The transformation in him over the past weeks still astonished her sometimes.
The heavy guilt he had carried for so many years no longer shadowed his every expression. He laughed more easily now. Smiled often. Teased openly. And touched her whenever he wished, entirely unconcerned by who witnessed it.
Even Duncan had finally surrendered to what he called the inevitable and now regarded the pair’s antics with indulgent amusement.
“After the way ye fought for me sister, man,” he had told Malcolm in the aftermath of the battle, “I cannae in all conscience deny yer request fer her hand. Ye clearly adore her and I guess sending ye tae save her means I played a rather big part in this happenin’ so... ye have me blessin’.”
“I cannae thank ye enough, Duncan, ye’ve made me the happiest man alive. And the luckiest,” Malcolm had replied, elated, embracing his brother-in-law-to-be warmly. “I’ll dae everythin’ in me power tae make her happy.”
“Ye better had, or ye’ll have me tae answer tae,” Duncan had warned him with a playful twinkle in his eyes.
As though summoned by the thought, Duncan’s voice sounded from the hallway.
“Och, they’re here already,” Catriona said, thrilled to hear her brother’s voice again, especially as she knew Elaina would not be far behind.
“He’s kissin’ her again,” Ewan said. He was lounging against the doorjamb, as he addressed whoever was approaching from down the hall.
Duncan appeared beside him and stepped inside the room. To Catriona’s delight, a smaller figure emerged from behind him.
“Elaina!” she cried, running to hug her smiling sister-in-law. “Och, I’m so happy tae see ye.”
“Likewise, Cat, though I never dreamed I’d be comin’ tae celebrate yer weddin’ so soon,” Elaina replied as they broke their embrace. She shot Duncan a hard look. “Nae thanks tae yer braither.”
“I was only daein’ what I thought was right fer Cat,” Duncan protested with a chuckle as he hugged Catriona in greeting.
“Ach, ye have me tae tell ye when somethin’s right, ye amadan,” Elaina told him mercilessly, eliciting laughter all round, even from Duncan himself.
“Elaina, will ye tell yer husband tae stop glarin’ at me every time I kiss me own bride?” Malcolm inquired, coming to retrieve Catriona from Duncan’s arms, putting his own arms possessively around her shoulders.
All the women giggled.
“That depends,” came her reply. “I have nay control over her. How often are ye intendin’ tae dae it?”
Malcolm grinned wickedly. “As often as I can,” he answered, kissing Catriona again as though underlining his point.
Sorcha collapsed into helpless laughter, while Catriona giggled and buried her burning face in Malcolm’s shoulder.
“Christ, I’ve never seen him like this before, he’s like a loon,” Duncan said laughingly.
“I think ye could at least tone the kissin’ down a bit before the bloody ceremony, man. Ye’re makin’ me jealous,” Ewan said. “I’ve suffered enough.”
Malcolm merely tightened his arms around Catriona. “I care naught fer yer sufferin’, Braither. I’ve never been happier in me life and I intend tae make the most of it.”
Catriona did not say so just then—she saved it for when they were alone later to show him— but she fully intended to make the most of it too.
But Catriona and Malcolm’s story doesn’t end here…