Epilogue
Epilogue
Braemore Keep. Late July 1717.
Maura covered her hair with a length of plaid to keep the dust from it as she swept out a large room near the bedchamber she shared with her husband. With carpenters and masons working on improvements to Dugan’s tower at all hours of the day, the place was impossible to keep clean, even with all the servants Dugan kept.
She worked her way to the window where she could gaze down at the rich MacMillan fields to the west, and the loch beyond. ’Twas a beautiful holding, and now that Dugan owned every acre of it—much to the consternation of the Duke of Argyll, who could not bring himself to turn down Dugan’s payment in gold—he’d begun to make significant improvements. Maura could see hundreds of cattle grazing on the hillsides, and her heart clenched tightly at the sight of Archie MacLean lifting her wee sister into the special chair he’d constructed for her inside a small wheeled wagon.
Dugan had chosen a big shepherd dog to watch over Rosie, and the diligent canine had taken to his task completely, much to Rosie’s delight. Even now, the dog, Davey, was circling ’round and barking at Archie to take care with his fragile mistress.
Rosie laughed with true glee when Archie lifted the handle of the wagon and pulled her down the lane and out of sight with Davey running alongside them. Maura did not think Rosie’s life had ever been quite so full.
Nor had her own.
“What are you doing up here, love?” Dugan asked. Maura turned and smiled at him as he came to her and took her into his arms. “ ’Tis a fine day full of glorious sunshine and we should be outside in it. Let the servants do this work.”
He was warm and sweaty from his exertions on the practice fields. Though he was now the wealthiest of highland lairds, he would never take his clan’s safety or security for granted. Maura knew he had witnessed with his own eyes exactly how easy it was to lose everything.
But he was a generous man. He’d enriched his entire clan with his treasure, and was doing all that he could to enhance the grazing land and the arable acres.
“I’ll come out,” Maura replied, “just as soon as I finish sweeping out this room. I’ve chosen it—”
“Why must it be you who does the cleaning? Hmm?” He pulled the cloth from her head, letting her hair fall free. He slid his fingers through it, causing delightful shivers to skitter down her back.
“Because this room is special, my dear laird.”
“ ’Tis just a bedchamber.” He bent to kiss her. “Have I told you today how very much I love you?”
Maura smiled through the kiss and pulled his plaid from his shoulder. She began to untie the laces of his shirt. “Yes, but that was hours ago. ’Tis always a pleasure to hear the words from my much-loved husband.”
“Ah, Maura lass, you are my life.” He nipped a few light kisses on her ear and down her throat. “ ’Tis complete only because of you.”
“ ’Tis about to become even a bit more complete, Dugan.”
“Aye?” His kisses did not stop as he lifted her into his arms and carried her away to their bedchamber.
“Ach, aye,” she said, imitating his highland brogue, “when our firstborn joins us come the winter.”
Dugan stopped walking and gazed down at her. His throat moved as he swallowed thickly. “Our firstborn?”
Maura nodded. “In February, according to our midwife.”
Dugan grinned. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, my sweet Maura.”
He kicked the door shut behind him, and Laird MacMillan and his lady wife did not make it out of doors to enjoy the glorious sunshine until much later. They were far too busy enjoying each other.