“Oh, Morag, I love you.” He pulled her into his arms. “And like I said, I don’t deserve you. But if you still want me, and your father agrees to the marriage, then I don’t see why we shouldn’t be wed.”
“Da?” Morag asked, looking up to her father who was no longer frowning, but smiling instead. “Did ye mean it when ye said ye agreed to our marriage?”
“Agree to it?” he asked. “I’ll no’ only agree, but I’ll shout it from the rooftops because I am proud of both of ye. Aye, Sir Bedivere, ye have my permission to marry my daughter, Morag. I’d like to welcome ye, even though ye are a Sassenach, into our family.”
“Morag,” said Bedivere. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to do one more thing before we get married.”
“Clean up the mess?” Morag couldn’t even look at Whitmore’s body.
“Besides that,” Bedivere answered. “I’d like to free my mother and bring her back to Rothbury for our wedding.”
“Can ye do that?” asked Morag. “Will Whitmore’s men even let ye near the dungeon? And once they find out ye killed Whitmore, will they come after ye instead?”
“I don’t know but it’s a chance I’ll have to take. Please understand, my mother has been imprisoned for two long years and I can’t stand to think of her locked away in that horrible place, not even for another minute.”
“Then do it,” said Morag. “And when ye get back, we will have the best weddin’ there ever was. I will tell Lady Ernestine that the weddin’ is on again.”
Rook, Reed, and Rowen mumbled to each other and then Reed spoke up. “We’re comin’ with ye, Bedivere. And if anyone there gives ye a hard time about springin’ yer mathair from the dungeon, they are goin’ to have to take on the rest of yer family.”
“My family?” asked Bedivere.
“Aye, yer family,” said Reed, nodding to his brothers. “Well, what are we waitin’ for? We’ve got a lot to do and I suggest we get movin’.”
“Thank ye, Da,” said Morag, reaching out and hugging her father with one arm while she hugged Bedivere with the other.