Page 203 of The Highlander's English Bride

Epilogue

Bellwood Manor, Northumberland

November 1822

Graeme studied the picture that had pride of place in the hall. Dozens of paintings hung in the long portrait gallery, but none as lovely as this one of a joyfully smiling young woman dressed in a simple, flowing gown. Sitting on a rustic bench in a garden, she held an impish-looking toddler on her lap. That imp, with her golden curls and peacock-blue eyes, had grown up to be the darling lass Graeme held in his arms.

“Your mother was a true beauty.”

Sabrina leaned against his chest as she gazed up at Lady Musgrave. “Father always said she was the sweetest, most gentle-tempered woman he’d ever met.” Sabrina tilted her head back to smile at Graeme. “Unlike me, the bossy sort.”

Graeme turned her so he could give her a kiss.

“I’ll not have you defaming my bride,” he said. “She’s the sweetest lassie in all of Britain.”

“She’s certainly the happiest.” Sabrina patted his chest. “Thank you for doing so much to make Father comfortable. I think he’s actually enjoying himself. He was quite approving of tonight’s dinner, even with so many guests and such an elaborate meal.”

The formal party was the conclusion of their official wedding celebrations. Sabrina had worried that her father would be overwhelmed, but the Kendricks had stepped up to help, coddling the old boy with unfailing kindness and patience. Rather hilariously, Musgrave had taken a particular shine to Angus. The old gents gabbed for hours, complaining about their aches and pains. Angus, healthy as a bull, had invented a host of imaginary ailments, each more inventive than the next. Since Musgrave liked nothing better than talking about his health, Grandda’s strategy had worked like a charm.

In fact, the evening was going so well that Graeme and Sabrina had managed to sneak away for a bit. Sabrina had wanted to spend time with her mother, and Graeme had wanted a few stolen kisses with his bride.

“I’m hoping your da will also approve of his new son-in-law, eventually,” Graeme joked.

Sabrina crinkled her nose. “He will. I promise.”

“Good thing we didn’t give him a choice. If I had asked for your hand first, I suspect he’d have put a bullet through my heart.”

Graeme and Sabrina had tied the knot in Scotland. There’d still been a pile of problems to sort out at Lochnagar, and Sabrina had been determined to quickly fix as many as possible. That had meant a stay of several weeks. Since Ainsley and Royal had wished to return to Edinburgh, leaving Sabrina without a chaperone, there’d been only one solution: marriage. And with the deed done, any objections from her father would be forestalled.

Less than a week after Graeme had pulled Sabrina out of the loch, Reverend Brown had married them. Royal and Ainsley had served as their official witnesses, and the villagers of Dunlaggan as their unofficial ones. The villagers had insisted on throwing a grand wedding fete on the town green. The ladies of Dunlaggan had provided the food, Monroe the ale, and Magnus several casks of excellent—if illegal—whisky. Sabrina, in a pretty white gown and with a wreath of flowers in her hair, had glowed with happiness throughout the simple but heartfelt celebrations.

As for Graeme, bringing his bride back to Lochnagar had been the best moment of his life. The trials and sorrows of days gone by were now firmly in the past. Those sorrows could now rest gently in the past, never forgotten, but no longer weighing him down.

After a month, Graeme and Sabrina had returned to Edinburgh for a visit before heading to Bellwood Manor to face Sabrina’s father. Musgrave had wanted a propertoncelebration in London, but Sabrina had insisted on the family estate in Northumberland. It had been years since she and her father had visited Bellwood, and she was determined to ensure that all was well at the old family pile. Most of the Kendricks had joined them, although Lord and Lady Arnprior had sent their regrets, since Vicky had recently given birth to a healthy baby boy and wasn’t yet up to traveling.

“Speaking of shooting you,” Sabrina said, “I do think Father gave you a very nice present.”

“It was a grand and generous present. And very practical.”

His father-in-law had gifted him with a truly splendid set of matched pistols from Manton’s. Graeme had found it a surprising gift from an elderly man afraid of his own shadow, until he’d received a stern lecture from Musgrave on protecting Sabrina inthe wilds of Scotland. Graeme had solemnly thanked his father-in-law, promising to keep Musgrave’s daughter safe always.

“Although I do think Father should have given me the pistols,” Sabrina added. “I’ve done just as much rescuing as you have.”

“I sincerely hope those days are behind us.” Graeme reached into his pocket. “Speaking of presents, I’ve got something for you.”

Sabrina wagged a finger. “Graeme Kendrick, you simply must stop giving me presents. It’s getting ridiculous.”

“I’ve hardly given you anything,” he protested.

She held up her hand, which sported a band studded with diamonds and sapphires.

“Well, I can’t have you running around without a wedding ring,” he said. “All the fellows will think you’re a spinster and try to flirt with you. Then I’d have to shoot them.”

“With Father’s pistols?”

“I’ll only use those on smugglers.”

“We don’t have any smugglers. We now have a perfectly respectable distillery, and I predict it will be the best in Scotland, thanks to you.”

---