Epilogue
ACouple Weeks Later
The Grand Hall was filled once again with the people of the Black clan.
A celebration for the peace that was finally felt throughout the land was underway.
Each of Alan’s men had been captured one by one, falling into ruin after they were without their leader.
And now, all rejoiced under the rule of Magnus, who treated them fairly and who they knew would protect them at all costs.
Hannah found herself moving easily through the crowds, smiling as people greeted her.
Word had traveled about her jumping in front of the dirk for Magnus and it was like all fear and doubt in people’s minds evaporated.
They spoke to her with warmth and acceptance that she had never experienced—no longer looking at her scar with fearful eyes or muttering of curses and signs of the Devil.
Women complimented her tartan dress and her plaited hair, and men spoke of how she was braver than their sons.
It all made her heart bloom like spring itself, feeling as though there really was hope for her future there.
Not just as Magnus’s wife, but as the Lady of Black Keep.
“Dinnae stay on yer feet too long,” Magnus said as he appeared at her side, his arm looping around her waist.
She gave him a warm smile, touched that he was still concerned for her health even though she was healing just fine. “I know my limits, thank you very much, husband. I’ll sit when I feel the need to.”
He huffed and narrowed his eyes at her, but that was all the argument he had. Magnus Black, the Laird who was war-worn and known for his gruff demeanor and no-nonsense attitude, was bending to the will of his wife. And Hannah couldn’t help but find it absolutely adorable.
“Stubborn woman,” he muttered. “At least come with me for fresh air. Ye need a break from the crowds.”
Hannah rolled her eyes and nodded. “Very well, if it’ll put your mind at ease.”
She let him guide her away from the Grand Hall, stepping out to the corridor and heading for the exit. “Ye look beautiful today,” he said softly as they walked. “The clan tartan suits ye.”
“Of course you would say that,” she teased, giving him a little smile. “It’s me walking around marked as your woman.”
A wolfish grin dominated his face then, Magnus not even trying to hide the fact that she was right. “That smart mouth of yers is going to get ye in trouble one day,” he murmured.
Hannah snorted. “All it does is get me in trouble.”
He pinched her hip and she giggled. The pair walked outside and Hannah sucked in a deep breath, appreciating the fresh air.
It was late autumn at this point, and she looked out over the landscape, wondering what her first winter in Scotland would be like.
She had hated Scotland since the moment she stepped foot in it, but she found herself looking over the gentle green hills and thinking how beautiful it would be in a blanket of snow.
Before she could share her thoughts with Magnus, she heard faint hooves and wooden wheels somewhere in the distance. Her eyes panned to the gates of the Keep, watching as a distinct carriage moved through their opening and was making its way toward them.
“Is that… an English carriage?” Hannah murmured as she studied it.
It was as though she didn’t believe her own eyes, but there was no mistaking it.
Scottish carriages were simple, wooden structures that were stained dark if they were painted at all, but the one rolling into the Keep grounds right then was ornate, forest green with polished brass accents.
And the coachman wasn’t in a kilt or any tartan.
He was in proper English dress, a vest, top hat, and ascot.
“Perhaps it is,” Magnus said, a smile to his tone even though she hadn’t taken her eyes off the carriage.
The coach came to a stop. Hannah waited with bated breath as the door slowly opened and out came a woman that Hannah hadn’t seen in over a year. Her great aunt Eliza, a woman that had been away on holiday when her mother passed, and had returned after Hannah had been taken by her father.
A woman that Hannah thought she would never see again.
Eliza was her mother’s aunt, and looked just like her mother with pale blue eyes, round cheeks, and bright blonde hair that was starting to turn white at the roots.
With tears already stinging her eyes, Hannah felt her body propel forward. She was running at her aunt like the wind itself carried her feet, and her aunt was running too, arms already spread wide to scoop Hannah into an embrace.
The women collided, tears streaming down both of their faces, hugging one another with the might of every day that had separated them. Eliza was Hannah’s only relative left in England, the only earthly tether she had to the life she had lived with her mother.
“Hannah,” Eliza breathed, a hand running over the back of her hair. “I’m… so… glad you’re alive. I was terrified when I returned home to find you gone.”
“I can imagine,” Hannah murmured. “I thought I would never see you again.”
The two women cried and clung to each other, the grief of Hannah’s mother crashing down around them, as well as all the time they had spent thinking they would never see one another again.
At last, Hannah pulled back and looked at her aunt, holding her shoulders as she assessed her. “How… How did you find me?” she asked.
Eliza grinned and looked past Hannah at that point, looking to Magnus. “Your husband sent word to me of your whereabouts. I came as soon as I could.”
Hannah spun around in an instant, staring at Magnus. “You… found my aunt for me?” she asked, her voice breathless. Magnus only nodded. She stepped toward him, eyeing him carefully, drinking in the soft expression on his face.
“Yer life might be here, Hannah,” he began quietly, stroking her cheek. “But I have nae intention of keeping ye from those ye cherish back in England.”
Hannah kissed him passionately, her lips crushing into his with a desperate need to somehow convey how much this meant to her. Even though she had made her own destiny to stay there with him, it didn’t mean she had to lose everything that had been her life before her arrival in Scotland.
“Thank you,” she breathed into his lips as she pulled back from the kiss.
“I’d do anything for ye,” he murmured. “Tell me ye want the English crown, and I’ll go fetch it.”
She laughed and hugged him tightly, relishing in the way his strong arms squeezed her right back.
She only moved away when her aunt made a noise behind them, turning with a blush to see her aunt swooning over them.
“My goodness, my girl,” her aunt said. “You were always so surly with the Lords back in England, I never thought I would see you so passionate over a man.”
Hannah looked to Magnus with a shy smile. “Well, I was certainly surly toward him at first. But… he wore me down.”
“Just as ye did me,” he said with an affectionate grin.
Hannah moved to her aunt, taking her by the arm as she guided her into the Keep to join the celebration.
She admired the way Eliza looked on with eager eyes and enthusiasm instead of anxiousness and hesitation.
Hannah couldn’t wait to show her aunt all the small things of the Black land that she had started to grow so fond of.
She hoped her aunt could stay just at least long enough to fall in love with Scotland just as she had.
Then again, her thoughts circled back to Magnus as her aunt sauntered off to speak to some of the livelier merchants that welcomed her.
Looking at her husband as he towered over her, that affectionate look on his face, Hannah knew for a fact that she couldn’t care less where she was, so long as Magnus was the one she was with.
She took his hand and guided him toward the makeshift dance floor, the band in the corner striking up a song as the Laird and Lady began to dance.
Her thoughts circled back to their wedding and the way his every touch sent her ablaze.
And as they circled one another right then, hands pressed together, she found it to be just the same.
Only this time, instead of just her body responding, it was her heart too.
The way he looked at her like she was the only one in the room, the smile on his lips as he enjoyed every movement of their dance, Hannah was a goner.
She truly, deeply, and thoroughly loved this man.
When she spotted her aunt watching them with happy, tearful eyes, Hannah felt moved to tears too. It was everything she could ever want in that moment, her family, her husband, and a joyous occasion with all the darkness behind them.
“Are ye alright, love?” Magnus whispered as he brought her closer during their dance.
“I’m more than alright,” she breathed and looked deeply into his eyes. “I’m home.”