Page 78 of Bride of the Beastly Laird

Arran took a deep breath. Now was the time for him to explain his real identity. Before doing so, he turned to his mother. “I believe me maither has a story tae tell and I beg yer good graces tae hear her out.”

The three brothers nodded their heads in agreement. “Melady Emilia, we would be grateful fer yer story,” Haldor said.

Emilia went on to explain how she had met Laird Gregory Mackinnon after his wife, the mother of James and Bairre, had succumbed to the illness she had suffered of for many years.

“The laird and I were wed and I bore him a son. We were happy for a time before Gregory was killed in battle.” She looked up at Arran seated opposite. “And that son of mine is here before ye. The rightful heir tae the lairdship.”

Haldor sprang to his feet and reached out his hand. Arran also stood and shook the proffered hand. “This is the best news, Arran.” Haldor patted his shoulder. “With yersel’ as the laird, we can convince the king that there is peace between our clans and that the decreed wedding between Bairre and me sister was never necessary.”

Arran grinned to himself. He had yet to seek approval from her brother to claim Dahlia’s hand in marriage. But much as it pained him, his official betrothal to Dahlia would have to wait until the evidence of his birth and his right to become Laird of the Mackinnons was in his possession.

Emilia raised a hand. “I am afeared the official documents signed by meself and Laird Gregory attesting tae the birth of our son are in the possession of Father Deiran, the priest who performed the wedding ceremony. It may be that they are lost tae us.”

“If ye ken where this priest can be located, surely he can be found.”

“All I ken is that soon after our wedding he returned to Eire, which was where he came from. I have his name and the name of the monastery to which he belonged. Yet many years have passed, and I dinnae ken if he still lives or has remained at that place.”

“Once ye give me those names, I’ll send me messengers abroad at once tae search fer him with all urgency. They will find a sea crossing and seek out this monastery.”

“In the meantime,” Haldor turned once more to Arran, “the chambermaids have prepared yer sleeping quarters. If ye wish tae rest, then I will bid ye sweet-sleep.” He strode toward the door. “Me wife Sofia awaits me and I’ve a mind tae spend a while in me own chamber.” He looked around the assembled group. “But tonight, we’ll dine together, and it will be a splendid feast amid much rejoicing fer the peace to come between our two clans.” With that, he left them.

Ivar yawned and got to his feet grinning. “’Tis a fine idea. We spent our night fighting and nae sleeping and I believe me lovely Catalina missed me sorely and ‘tis time I sought her company.

That left Arne. He too got to his feet. Before he left the study he bowed graciously to Emilia. “I wish ye good day melady. I too will take me rest.”

Emilia reached a hand to squeeze Arran’s arm. “Me son, I cannae tell ye how me heart is gladdened tae see ye safe.”

“And at last, if all goes how it should, ye will be able tae take yer place at Castle Mackinnon as the maither of the laird.”

She uttered a sigh, a gentle smile dawning on her sweet face.

It was truly a remarkable feast to celebrate the final defeat of an enemy and the hope for a brighter and more peaceful future. The tables groaned with haunches of roast venison, racks of lamb, roasted geese, jugs of wine and ale and sublime mountains of strawberry tarts, almond cakes, boiled compotes sweetened with honey and piled with clotted cream.

Seated beside Arran at the high table, Dahlia glowed, more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She’d allowed her long hair to flow free over her shoulders in a tumbling, silvery, waterfall, enticing him. He longed to run his fingers through those fragrant tresses.

“Ye’re nae playing yer clàrsach this night, me love?” His mind went over the night he’d dined with the MacLeod brothers and his gaze had met hers as she played her harp. He’d been in love with her then, but he did not know it. And now, she was beside him, and almost all the obstacles to her becoming his betrothed were behind them. Once the papers proving his legitimacy had been found, he would be able to ask for her hand. They wouldbecome betrothed and then, finally, at long last, they would be wed.

He leaned over as she raised her spoon, offering him a mouthful of pudding and cream.

Her eyes really are the most glorious cornflower-blue.

“Ye agreed tae be mine a few days gone, but daes yer agreement still hold now that so much has passed between us and Bairre Mackinnon is nay more?”

“Aye. Me agreement holds.” She smiled into his green-gold gaze. “Now and forever more.”

EPILOGUE

Three months later

Castle Mackinnon

As he’d done every day since again making his home at the castle, Arran paced the battlements, his eyes on the road below where it stretched into the distance, seeking signs of a rider brining him the longed-for news.

While the council had accepted him as their clan leader, it was understood that if there was no proof of his birthright, the law would not allow him to inherit the lairdship. It had been a long, lonely time, with only memories of Dahlia’s smiling face and soft curves to keep him company in his huge bed at night.

Summer was behind him and now the surrounding hills were snow-capped. The blustery wind that blew his fair hair around his face as he strode the battlements was no balmy breeze butspattered his face with icy sleet and made the blood run cold in his veins.

Rubbing his hands for warmth, he returned to his solar. All traces of Bairre and James had been removed and now the fire blazed merrily in a room painted in bright colors and hung with rich tapestries from France. With Emilia’s help, he’d done his best to transform the grim, grey stones of the castle into a place that would welcome his love.

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