Epilogue

“Eve, I distinctly recall that your husband’s last words to you before he left to attend King Robert, were that you ‘should not court trouble,’” Mary chided.

“Teaching the art of swordsmanship as Grant has taught it to me is not courting trouble,” Eve replied with a grin before ducking Esme’s oncoming swing with Fate.

Eve straightened with a grunt and then a gasp when her unborn baby kicked, making his presence known. She patted her stomach and cooed to her son, even as she whipped up her sword to meet another of Esme’s attempts to best her and knocked Fate out of her hands. Esme frowned as the Decres warriors who were gathered in the courtyard of Linlithian cheered.

Eve took a bow, nearly pitching forward because of her rather large stomach, but Esme and Mary were there on either side of her, as they had been for her entire pregnancy. Clara clucked her tongue, shook her head, and strolled toward Eve. “I agree with Mary,” Clara said. “Grant would most definitely consider this courting trouble. ’Tis too much exertion for the state you are in.”

“I much preferred it when you were always on my side,” Eve said, arching her eyebrows. She did not bother to ask where Clara had been. She knew she would not get an answer, but she also knew that whatever Clara was doing had something to do with a promise she had made long ago, one that had her aiding the Scottish cause.

Clara chuckled. “I’m certain you did. You did promise him you’d not have the baby before he returned.” Eve smiled at her old friend, glad that Clara had arrived at Linlithian yesterday after such a long absence.

“And I’ll not,” she replied, feeling Grant’s sudden presence as she always did the moment he was near. She swept her gaze around and found him—tall, strong, and confident—striding toward her looking battle-worn but happy. As he drew closer, the air changed, her heartbeat quickened, and her body tingled. They’d both had high walls around them before they’d met, and she supposed when they’d torn them down, a hard fall had been inevitable. They’d shattered, she had realized one night, into a million pieces, and the two of them had become one.

The Decres warriors and the Fraser warriors parted to let him through, and he stopped in front of her, smiling down at her before brushing his lips to her and placing his large hand protectively over her belly. “How is my son?”

“Almost ready to appear I think,” she told him as the child kicked once more.

He nodded, as if he’d known, and she knew part of him had. His connection to her was just as strong as hers to him. He scooped his arms under her legs and lifted her off her feet. Cheers erupted around them as he turned to carry her to their bedchamber.

“Did Bruce get to safety?” she asked, placing her hand on his chest.

“I hope so,” Grant replied.

She frowned. “You hope so?”

“I saw him across the water safely, but then I felt yer need for me here.” Grant touched her hand to his heart. “So I left Ross to finish seeing to the king’s escape.”

“You left Ross to finish the duty?” she repeated, astonished.

“Aye, Eve. Ye are my first duty always. And the most pleasant, I might add.” With that, his lips parted hers in a soul-reaching kiss that whispered a pledge of love, family, and faith in all the tomorrows to come.

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Excerpt of When a Laird Loves a Lady