Epilogue
One Year Later
“It is lovely to actually get to enjoy this one,” Agnes quipped, digging a playful elbow into Gordon’s ribs.
He quirked an eyebrow. “There was nothin’ stoppin’ ye from enjoyin’ the last one, other than yer willingness to follow strange Englishmen into the hallway.”
“How dare you!” she cried, laughing. “I shall have you know that that strange Englishman is a very pleasant man.”
Gordon pulled a face. “Aye, I suppose he’s nae so bad.”
At that very moment, Samson was whirling around the dance floor with Lizzy in his arms, jigging a merry reel with her while she shrieked in absolute joy.
The cèilidh itself was to celebrate the first anniversary of Agnes and Gordon’s wedding, though she preferred to think of it as recompense for their absence at last year’s cèilidh.
Everyone was in attendance, thoroughly enjoying themselves, from the village women to the lairds and ladies of neighboring clans, as well as a few from further afield.
Agnes’s fellow English wives were there, and though she would not say she had made friends yet, they certainly seemed open to friendship.
Her father was also in attendance, chattering merrily to Iona and Marcus, whom he had come to know well in his frequent visits to the Highlands.
In truth, Agnes was beginning to wonder when her father was going to move to the castle and never return to England.
Rather less impressed by the festivities was Aunt Tabitha, who stood off to the side with an expression of innate disapproval on her face.
Although she leaned in every so often to speak to the young lady at her side, who happened to be Samson’s younger sister, Miriam.
A shy, pretty thing who doted on her niece, as everyone who met Lizzy did.
I wish you could see this, Christine. I wish you could see that all is well, though we miss you terribly.
Agnes had already made sure that Lizzy would never forget her mother, telling her stories of Christine’s antics every night. Stories that Snout loved to listen to as well, before he draped himself over Lizzy like a living blanket, the two of them as thick as thieves.
At present, the sweet fox had been banished to the nursery after stealing half a pheasant from the feasting table.
“Do ye think anyone would notice if we went missin’ for a little while?” Gordon asked, his arm wrapped around her waist.
Agnes smiled up at him. “No, I don’t think so.”
“In that case…” He slipped his hand into hers and led her out of the lively chaos of the Great Hall.
They navigated the hallways together until the sound of the gathering was entirely muted by the thick stone walls, eventually coming to the door at the bottom of Gordon’s tower.
“Please tell me you aren’t expecting me to walk up all of those stairs?” Agnes laughed.
He smirked. “Of course nae.”
She realized her mistake as he grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her up the stairs himself.
“You beast!” she cried, lightly smacking him on the back.
“I thought ye said I wasnae one?” he teased.
She laughed as best as she could with her ribs against his shoulder. “Yes, well, there are exceptions.”
Reaching the top of the staircase, Gordon set her down and, with an almost nervous smile, pushed open the door to the tower room.
A sea of candles flickered across the circular space, gathered around a painting that had been propped on an easel. The golden light of those beautiful candles shone upon a picture that Agnes had never seen before, though she had wondered why her husband was spending so much time in here of late.
Now, she understood.
It was a painting of them. Of their strange, wonderful little family, together in the gardens that she had spent hours toiling over, all of the new flowers in bloom.
They were seated on a picnic blanket, Lizzy crawling to reach a glossy strawberry tart, Snout stealing away with a piece of egg, while Gordon poured a glass of lemonade for his wife.
Everyone was smiling, their eyes capturing their happiness perfectly.
“As ye can see from the sky, I had some help,” Gordon said, drawing her closer.
Squinting to see what he meant, Agnes gasped in wonderment. The clouds were not merely clouds, but exquisitely transformed footprints and paw prints.
“They’re both incredibly messy artists.” Gordon grinned. “There’s still white paint on the floor, and I doubt it’ll ever come out. Truth be told, I daenae think I want it to.”
Agnes pressed a hand to her heart as she turned to him. “It’s beautiful, my love.”
“It’s for ye.”
“It is… perfect,” she croaked, then paused. “Well, almost perfect.”
He tilted his head. “Is there somethin’ ye daenae like?”
“No, it is not that I dislike something,” she replied, her nerves rising. “Rather, it is something that is missing.”
He nodded as if he understood. “Ah, ye want to put yer own footprints in the clouds?”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, my love.”
“Then what’s missin’? If ye tell me, I can add it. I willnae be offended.”
“It can’t be added yet,” she explained, her lips curling into a smile. “Maybe in about six or seven months.”
He stared at her blankly. “What?”
“I am with child, my love,” she said with a laugh, amused by his obliviousness. “Once we have met them, our son or daughter, then you can add them.”
He blinked. “Ye’re with child?”
“I am.” She swallowed past her nerves, hoping this was happy news. “The healer confirmed it the other day. I wanted to surprise you.”
To her relief, Gordon’s handsome face broke into the brightest smile. He swept her up into his arms and swung her around, the candles bending in unison, dimming the light for a moment.
“Wait, why did ye let me carry ye up the stairs?” He set her down and pressed his hand to her belly. “Will the baby be all right? Have I knocked it?”
She laughed as happy tears rolled down her cheeks. “The baby will be fine.”
“Och, love…” He cradled her face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her, his mouth soft and searing.
She wound her arms around him and kissed him back, savoring every moment.
“Does this mean you are pleased?” she asked, pulling back briefly.
“Pleased? Sunshine, ye’ve made this the best day of me life,” he replied, smiling from ear to ear. “I thought I had come up with the greatest gift to celebrate our anniversary, but ye’ve gone and beaten me, and I’m nae cross about it.”
He pulled her back in and kissed her once more, this time a little harder, a little fiercer, until the air between them crackled with a heat to challenge the sea of candles.
“See,” he said softly, slyly, “this is why I put a bed up here. It had nothin’ to do with me paintin’ through the night.”
Kissing her deeply, he steered her toward the side of the tower, where a narrow bed lay in disarray. He was about to lower her onto it when a shout echoed up the stairs outside. “Mama! Papa!”
The ungodly sound of Snout’s vulpine scream accompanied Lizzy’s cry.
“I suppose we’ll need to get even more accustomed to interruptions,” Gordon said wryly as he lifted her back up.
Agnes chuckled. “Yes, I daresay we will.”
“Is anyone in there?” Iona called, knocking on the door.
The happy couple laughed as they crossed the room and opened the door to reveal quite the entourage on the landing: Iona, Snout, Lizzy, Agnes’ father, Samson, Samson’s sister, and even Aunt Tabitha.
“I guess this means our absence was noticed,” Agnes remarked.
Iona smiled awkwardly. “It’s just that after the last cèilidh, I didnae want to let ye out of me sight. And everyone sort of… came with me.”
“In that case, since I have you all in one place, you will all be pleased to hear, or so I hope, that our family is about to get that little bit bigger,” Agnes announced, leaning into Gordon’s side. “I am with child.”
Iona and Aunt Tabitha shrieked in unison, the latter startling Agnes into a laugh.
A moment later, the two women rushed forward to embrace her, Lizzy squashed somewhere in the middle.
As Agnes wrapped her arms around them in return, she wished that this was a moment Gordon could capture in a painting.
Indeed, as everyone else came forward and joined in the celebration, she knew without a doubt that this was the happiest day of her life. And after so much loss and grief and fear of what her life might look like, it rather felt like a miracle sent directly from heaven.
The End?