Page 25 of A Merry MacNaughton
To work that love into practical things so that nothing can divide us.
We ask for words both kind and loving and hearts always ready to ask for forgiveness as well as to forgive.
Dear Lord, we put our marriage into yer hands.
Hamish began playing the bagpipes again, the haunting notes putting tears in any dry eyes left in the small cottage. He bent and kissed his wife, lingering on soft lips that tasted of honeyed mead. As much as he loved his family, Calum wanted to be alone with this woman who had haunted his heart and mind. His desire had been kindled and stoked, and he could not wait to make her his in body and soul.
Malachi wrapped his daughter in a fierce hug. “Yer face tells me what I ken in my heart. Ye did right, Peigi. Yer mother is smiling down upon us.” He shook Calum’s hand. “It’s an honor to call ye my son.”
Mairi was next, sobbing and beaming at the couple. “Och, my handkerchief is a sodden mess. I’m so happy for ye both.”
“May I kiss my sister?” asked Finley, his light red hair shining with streaks of gold in the candlelit room. He pulled her into a hug and pecked her cheek. “No’ to worry, Brother. I willna go to extremes.”
Calum tried to remove his frown, but when Hamish pulled his Peigi into an embrace, he’d had enough. “Away with ye both, or ye willna see yer own wedding.”
Angus had been silent throughout the ceremony, a grin on his ruddy face. Now he came forward, a warning look at his son. “Ye’ll have her to yerself soon enough, Son.” He turned to Peigi. “I’d like to welcome my daughter to the family.” He took both her hands and kissed the top of her head then gave way to Ailish.
The two women shared a look that spoke of affection. “I finally have a daughter to call my own. May ye always be this happy, lass.” Ailish handed her a beautiful scarf in the MacNaughton colors of red, blue, and green with a pewter clasp pinned to it. In the center of the circular clasp was the round tower of the castle, gems matching the clan colors glittered between the crenellations.
Peigi gasped and held her new mother-in-law close. “Och, it’s stunning, and I thank ye for all yer words of wisdom.”
Calum’s heart was full. His family around him, a woman by his side who would stir his blood and be a good confidante and mother, and a future that promised good fortune. The New Year’s Day could not have ended any better, he thought, until his wife tugged on his sleeve.
She whispered in his ear, a shy smile on her face, “I find myself getting so verra tired, Husband. Shall we retire soon?”
Or maybe it could.
Epilogue
A Fulfilling Finale
Four years later
Hogmanay
MacNaughton Castle
Calum stretched androlled over on the thick, heather-stuffed mattress. His head lay on the pillow, breathing in the scent of heather and woman. A satisfied woman.
He’d been gone too long. A trip to America and a long stop in Edinburgh. Six months without his wife. Six months without his daughters, Glynis or Maeve. Six months without the feel of Peigi’s skin against his, her image the first he saw upon awakening. He would not leave her again if he could help it.
Arriving on Hogmanay—for he rode like a demon chased by an archangel to make it on time—Peigi had met him in the hall with mistletoe, requesting a kiss. It had been their custom each year following their marriage. This year, she’d turned the tables on him, and demanded a kiss of him. The girls had been there to greet him and his heart was full, surrounded by his females. Glynis, now three, ran to him, her auburn curls bouncing, and grabbed his knee with chubby arms. “Da, Da!”
Peigi had set down Maeve and the child toddled after her older sister. The bairn had her mother’s dark hair and face but the deep blue eyes of her father. “She took two steps last week and hasna stopped,” his mother had informed him. And he’d missed it. No more.
Now, he looked down at this woman who had come into his life through a mishap. A merry mishap for this MacNaughton. Saints and sinners, he was a lucky man. A beautiful, intelligent wife who loved him, two lovely and precocious daughters, and a prosperous future before them. The old seer from The Thistle Inn had predicted this. He was glad he’d paid her well, though he’d thought her words nonsense at first. But Hogmanay had a long history of superstitions, faeries, and spirits past and present. Who was he to question fate? Especially when it favored him in such a way.
Peigi’s thick tresses fell across the pillow, and he rubbed a lock between his fingers. The coverpane had fallen to her waist, her breasts bared. He traced the outline of one creamy mound with his finger, leaned over her shoulder, and nuzzled her ear. She stirred; her eyelids fluttered open. A lazy smile curved her lips as she lifted an arm and allowed him free access. He dipped his head again, his lips trailing along her shoulders and neck.
“Mmm,” she moaned, a sultry sound that made him hard and aching with need. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled over, setting her on top of him.
“Good morning, Wife. It’s good to see ye again when I open my eyes.”
Peigi chuckled, a smile curling her plump lips.
“Perhaps we made a son last night.” She kissed him and laid her head back on his chest.
“It doesna matter,” he said as he stroked her disheveled hair. “I ken it bothers ye, but ye must believe it truly doesna make a difference. I love my bairns no matter the sex.”
