Epilogue

"I cannae believe ye arseholes actually came!"

Cam was beaming as he slapped his palm against the backs of his best friends. Keith Oliphant—who was built like a brick—didn't move, but Malcolm Forbes was jolted hard enough to spill his drink, and turned to scowl as he reached for his handkerchief.

"I had to come," he said blandly, patting at his cuff. "I wouldnae have believed Cam MacKay could be married, if I hadnae seen it with my own eyes. Besides, I promised Brom a visit to the London Zoo."

Smiling, Cam settled between his friends as they watched their wives socialize with Cam's family—both of his families—and Jade's friends. "Have ye been already? What did Brom think of the hippopotamus?"

Malcolm rolled his eyes as he readjusted his jacket. "We're going tomorrow, and the lad's in alt over the prospect of aquatic mammals and their leavings. I told him we werenae bringing a sample home."

On Cam's other side, Keith grimaced. "I was going to invite myself along, since Carlotta's planning on spending the day with her mother, but now I'm reconsidering."

"Ye would rather spend the day with yer pink mother-in-law than myself and my son?" Malcolm asked with a raised brow.

"If it comes down to my mother-in-law versus hippo shite, I'm going to have to give it a long and serious consideration."

Cam, who had spent some time with the Dowager Duchess of Cashingham, shuddered slightly. "Hippo shite, definitely."

Keith hummed, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "Will there be snacks? I'll go if there will be snacks."

"Oh, for fook's sake!" Malcolm drained the rest of his drink. "Sometimes I feel as if I'm the only adult here!"

"That's an aye to the snacks, then?"

Cam was already chuckling. Not just at his friends' banter, but having them stand up beside him at the altar was a blessing. It was just that, since Jade had asked him to marry her, he'd been filled with the most wonderful sense of…peace. As if he knew, now that she was part of his life, everything would be fine.

And since she'd said the words this morning, binding their futures together, he'd been grinning like an idiot.

"Thank ye both for being here," he blurted, nudging Keith with his shoulder. "It means a lot to me."

"Aye, of course." Keith didn't look at him, which is how Cam knew he was embarrassed by the praise. "Besides, we had to visit Carlotta's family. And I needed to do some promotion in London for my new boxing school."

"Dinnae lie." Cam's grin turned teasing. "Ye love me."

"Well…ye're aright, I suppose."

"Arsehole," Cam cheerfully quipped.

"Prat," Keith shot right back.

Malcolm was shaking his head. "Children, children. Must I separate the pair of ye?"

"For fook's sake, Colm, ye find out ye're a da, and suddenly ye go all serious and boring on us?"

Before Malcolm could sputter out a response to Cam's teasing, Keith grunted. "He was always serious and boring."

Cam's laugh was more a snort. "Do ye recall that time we convinced him the head master's horse could do arithmetic? And he was studying for that Latin exam and didnae want to be bothered, but we dragged him out to the stables?"

"Och, aye!" Keith began to laugh as well. "And Crowe was hiding in the next stall, and he and James had that system worked out with the apples and the carrots, and…"

His remembrance trailed off as his chin sank to his chest.

Cam sighed. "Aye, I miss them too."

"I miss James," muttered Keith. "No' Crowe."

"I miss them both," admitted Malcolm. "I didnae expect to, no' after what Crowe did, but…" He shrugged. "I ken ye were closest to him, Cam, but it's been strange, kenning he's no' locked up any longer."

Suddenly, Cam wasn't feeling quite so jubilant any longer. He shifted his fists to his plaid-covered hips. "I ken it's my fault James is dead—"

"Nay," Keith immediately denied. "Crowe had a darkness we could all see, and reason to want James dead."

"And if I had kept my mouth shut, it would never have come to pass," Cam reminded him.

Malcolm shook his head. "Ye cannae ken that for certain, Cam. There was so much anger there."

This was his wedding day…which meant tonight was his wedding night. He shouldn't be thinking of Crowe MacLeod, and what his plans were now he was out of prison.

Blowing out a breath, Cam scrubbed a hand over his face. "Aye, ye're right. Still, I confess myself pleased to ken we've no' heard anything more from him. Or the papers."

"No news is good news?" murmured Malcolm.

When a man had reason to want revenge, Cam was glad to know he was on his way north. Away from Jade and everyone he loved. From what little they'd been able to determine from the articles they'd read, Crowe was heading home to Skye.

"Good riddance, is what I say." Keith nodded emphatically. "I dinnae ken how the man was released early, before serving his sentence…but if he wants to spend the rest of his days on Skye, stewing in his own guilt, then I'll make a point to never go to Skye."

Cam felt one corner of his lips curl wryly. "Remind me no' to piss ye off, Keith. Ye hold a grudge like no one can."

"Och, ye piss me off plenty," his friend replied with a teasing grin. "I just like ye. Besides, I need someone to translate all of Malcolm's foreign mutterings."

"I dinnae mutter," muttered Malcolm. "Ye just failed Latin."

"Aye!" Keith agreed cheerfully, smacking one fist into the opposite palm. "Nae need for it!"

They were all surprised by a throat-clearing, and turned to see Cam's butler standing there with a silver tray…which held a single envelope.

"A letter?" It was highly irregular to be interrupted for just a single letter, but on the other hand…the last time this had happened, Cam had learned he'd been married. Only not really. He was scowling when he snapped, "This is my wedding day!"

"Yes, milord," intoned the older man, looking highly uncomfortable. "But I know you and the gentlemen might want to see this together. It's the postmark, you see…"

Malcolm took pity on the servant and reached for the envelope. "It's from the Isle of Skye," he declared in a surprised murmur.

The trio of friends gathered around the letter, which was addressed to "Cameron MacKay" and laid in Malcolm's hand like a strange, foreign insect.

"Go on," urged Keith. "Open it. Seems too lucky to receive it now, when we were just discussing…"

Malcolm shook his head. "It's no' Crowe's handwriting."

Of course Malcolm would remember something so specific as the handwriting of a man none of them had seen in almost a decade. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the letter and slit open the envelope with fingers which only shook slightly.

It was a single piece of paper, only two sentences, in an elegant feminine scrawl.

Dear Mr. MacKay,

If you ever cared for your friend, Johnathan MacLeod, please come at once to Dunvegan Castle. He does not realize how much he needs you.

Yours in friendship,

Lady Honoria Lindsay

"What the hell?" muttered Keith.

"Do ye need me to read the bigger words for ye?" Malcolm asked blandly. "Dunvegan is the seat of the clan—"

"I fooking ken that!" Keith jabbed his finger at the paper. "What do ye think it means?"

"And do ye suppose we all received them?" When they glanced at Malcolm, he shrugged and continued. "This was sent to yer home, aye? Lady Honoria obviously didnae ken ye're planning on selling this house soon, since ye're married, but does that mean she sent one to Forbes Farm and Oliphant Castle? We're Crowe's friends as well."

Keith scowled. "I dinnae care if he needs my help. He murdered James. I'm no' forgetting that."

"I cannae forget that," Cam agreed as he tapped the letter against his palm, "but I owe him an apology for my part in that tragedy."

"I thought ye were trying to avoid him!" Keith growled, folding his arms across his chest in what seemed suspiciously like a pout. "Now ye're running toward him with open arms."

Cam waved the letter. "That was before this."

His burly friend shook his head. "I'm no' wrong, aye? This is the Honoria, right? James's sister? The one who caused the mess in the first place?"

"It was hardly her fault." Malcolm was slipping on a set of spectacles—his mother and new wife conspired to keep a pair in the breast pocket of each of his jackets—and reached for the letter. "But aye, unless there are two Honoria Lindsays gallivanting around the Highlands, this plea is from the eldest daughter of the Duke of Exingham, and James's sister."

Her other sister, Melanie, was Lady Marlowe, and one of Cam's best clients. Ex-clients. He was officially retired, after all. A small smile tugged at his lips as he remembered he was going to spend the rest of his days pleasuring only one woman.

But Malcolm was clearly responding to an argument from Keith. "All I'm saying is, if she can beg for help for Crowe, who are we to deny it?"

Keith groaned, but at that moment, a burst of laughter from across the room dragged Cam's attention away from the mysterious letter. His bride—his new wife—was standing with her aunt and Cam's younger siblings, who'd been thrilled to journey south for the wedding. As he watched, Jade reached out and adjusted the collar of Cam's half-brother—his father's heir—and the lad blushed crimson.

Cam grinned, knowing she had the same damn effect on him.

And the letter was mysterious as hell, aye, but today…today he had more important things to do.

"Colm?" Without turning back to his friends, he tapped the letter in Malcolm's hand. "Investigate this, would ye?"

His friend's response was immediate and expected. "Dinnae call me Colm. But, aye." He sighed. "I suppose ye have better things to do than be distracted by Lady Honoria."

"No' what, but who." Cam caught Jade's attention across the way, and when he winked, was gratified to see her slight blush and answering smile. "Think it's too early to sneak away?"

Keith's fist slammed into Cam's shoulder. He'd likely intended a nudge, but The Battling Bastard's blows were still legendary, and Cam turned to scowl at his friend.

"I had such plans, Cam!" Keith bemoaned. "I was going to make ye pay for all the times ye mocked me for falling in love—"

"Or no' kenning how to fook a woman," added Malcolm.

"Or offered to hide under the bed and give pointers." Keith sighed and rolled his eyes. "But now that I see ye here, mooning over Jade—she's perfect for ye, by the way—I've lost all sense of vengeance."

Malcolm jerked his chin. "Go on. Fetch yer bride."

Grinning hugely—both at the order and the knowledge his friends supported him, Cam gave a mock salute. Then he strode across the floor, determined to sneak his bride away from all this, and show her what she truly meant to him.

***

Perhaps it was the champagne. Jade wasn't used to the sparkling temptation, but she'd accepted a second glass for the toasts, and now she felt as if laughter was going to bubble up out of her at any moment.

Or perhaps that was joy. Joy at finally knowing this man was hers.

"Have I told you I love you?" she murmured playfully as she untangled her fingers from his and slipped her arm through his, hugging it against her breasts. "Lately?"

Cam hummed and halted his urgent hustle along the upstairs hallway. "Now that you mention it…" He stared off into space, as if considering. "No' in the last hour."

Knowing perfectly well he'd been chatting with his friends for the last hour while she'd been entertaining their guests, she giggled. "I love you. There, does that count?"

Turning to face her fully, her new husband lowered his lips toward her neck. "I suppose so," he murmured, kissing that sensitive spot above her collar. "And I should tell ye how I feel, hmm?"

She was distracted by the feel of his lips under her jaw, as she tilted her head to one side. "I—yes…mmm…"

When he chuckled, she could feel his smile. The sensation made her chest feel all bubbly and light again, but when she opened her mouth, all that emerged was a moan, and he took her earlobe into his mouth and tugged slightly.

Who would've thought an ear could be an erogenous zone? Cam, apparently, based on how quickly he'd found hers.

Perhaps there was an entry in A Harlot's Guide to the Forbidden and Delightful Arts which she had missed.

Unlikely.

It was, after all, one of the books the pair of them enjoyed reading together.

For the articles, of course.

They'd spent the last weeks here in London, preparing for their lives together. They would live in her townhome, sell his, and offer his staff the choice to transfer to The Cottage. Cam had arranged a construction team to work on it, and he assured her that by the time they were ready for their delayed honeymoon, the place would be fully modernized, with six bedchambers and space for servants.

She was strangely excited about the idea of filling those bedrooms with friends and guests and bairns, as Cam called their future children.

"Treasure, I love ye," he was saying, his lips caressing all her sensitive areas, and one arm tight around her back. His other hand was already cupping her breast through the thin blue silk of her wedding gown. "Ye've made me the happiest man."

She arched into his touch, not even caring they stood in the middle of the hall, where anyone might spy upon them. "Not as happy as you've—Cam!"

His thumb and forefinger had found her nipple and rolled it. "Och, aye. Happy birthday, my love."

Her smile finally burst forth, a reminder of yesterday's adventure. Cam had stood beside her, his hand on the small of her back, as she'd signed the papers which made Gung Gung's fortune hers. Now Thacker Shipping was safe, and she owed it all to Cam.

The fact he'd waited to marry her until after she could claim her inheritance—therefore making it hers to bring to the marriage—had meant the world to her. He really understood her.

And she'd be sure to thank him, once she was done being…distracted.

Moaning low in her throat, she threw her arms around his shoulders, dragging him closer. She felt him grin against her lips, and when he squeezed her breast, she instinctively thrust her pelvis forward, cradling his hardness.

He was driving her mad, but two could play at that game. Still holding him, she slowly ground her hips against him, loving the way the motion brought much-needed pressure to her aching core. In response, he jerked forward as well, sudden enough to cause her to stumble.

They might have fallen, had he not slammed his palm against the wall behind her, catching her. Not one to pass up an opportunity, however, Jade pressed her arse against the wall and dragged him down to her lips once more.

With his hands bracketing her shoulders, she felt confident in wriggling against him, urging him to deepen the kiss, to tease her breathless.

With a growl, he dropped his hands to her hips and twisted. She wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but her shoulder smacked into a framed painting on the wall, and his hip smashed against a small table with some sort of vase on it.

Dimly she noted the sound of glass shattering.

"Fook," he murmured. "That was my grandmother's."

"Not anymore!" She shouldn't be laughing—their guests likely thought they were trapped in a life-or-death struggle with a thief, or something—but she was so tightly strung, she felt as if something had to release.

When they slammed back against the wall, and the unfortunate painting finally broke its moorings and dropped to the ground with a thunderous crash, she couldn't help her bark of laughter.

Which quickly turned to a gasp of need, because at that moment, Cam wrapped his fingers under each of her arse cheeks, and lifted.

It was technically impossible for her to wrap her legs around him the way she wanted—to ride him, to pulsate against him—in the silk gown.

But that didn't mean she couldn't try.

He was holding her upright, stumbling along the hallway, while she grasped at him, trying desperately to somehow get even closer to him. When he smacked against another table, destroying something else which sounded expensive, he released her mouth long enough to curse. Then the pair of them were stumbling through the door to his bedroom.

Thank fook he had the sense to kick the thing closed, or they would've made love there in full view of anyone who happened to walk by.

As it was, they fell onto the bed in a desperate tangle of buttons and ties and how in the world was his sporran actually attached? Where the hell was the buckle?

Eventually, he pushed himself off the bed, and his kilt fell away from his hips. Since Jade was lying there—swollen and aching and dazed with need—she reached for him with a sound of protest.

But he chuckled and padded toward a chest of drawers. When his back was to her, she hurried to kick herself out of the rest of her clothing, marveling at how adept the pair of them had become at removing—

Her brain stopped working when he turned back to her, holding something long and thick and very familiar.

With a wicked smile, he strolled toward her unhurriedly, preceded by his erect cock. Jade wasn't sure which she wanted to look at more; the gorgeous sight of him completely bared for her eyes, or the imitation penis he carried.

"Do ye remember this?"

"Of course." She grinned naughtily, holding her arms out in silent invitation. "I was wondering what you'd done with that."

He slid into bed beside her. "I want to hear ye call it by its name, Jade. I want to hear ye say what ye want me to do with it."

Her cheeks warmed at his authoritative tone, but she trusted him implicitly, and knew he was preparing her for untold pleasure. So she smiled up at him.

"I want you to use that dildo on me. The way I used it on myself."

"In ye."

It was the certainty in his tone which had her moaning when she lay back against the pillows. "Yes."

His lips were everywhere, until she was squirming under his ministrations. Her nipples were particularly sensitive, a fact he loved to take advantage of. He grazed them with his teeth, sucked on them until she gasped his name, begging for release, and only then did he turn his attention to the little pearl of her pleasure.

Ai-ya, but this was even better!

She could feel her own desire dripping from her core as he lifted her knees and hooked her legs over his shoulders. He turned his attention to her folds—stroking, teasing, caressing—with both his fingers and his tongue.

Just when she was certain she couldn't take the torture any longer, his mouth closed around her clitoris, and she felt something hard and cool probing her entrance.

It was the knowledge of what he was doing to her, more than the actual sensation, which pushed her over the edge with a desperate gasp. As the dildo slid into her, his teeth grazed her most sensitive spot, and her orgasm burst over her in a deluge.

She screamed his name. Of course.

The dildo felt not dissimilar to his cock, but it wasn't quite as good. So before her core was even done pulsing, she opened her eyes to find him gazing down at her with a satisfied grin.

"Cam," she gasped, her body still quaking, "come to me. Make me yours."

"Ye are mine," he bragged. "Now and forever."

But she felt the dildo slide from her entrance, as he shifted himself between her legs.

Instinctively, she hooked her ankles behind his calves, allowing her knees to fall open, beyond ready to feel him slide into her, to make them one.

To her surprise, he hesitated, then held the dildo up between them, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"So, ye're no' as fond of this as my cock, eh, Treasure?"

"It's perfectly acceptable." She tried to keep her tone light, as if she weren't desperate for him to slide home. "And I'm certain I can make use of it if we're ever apart. But I need you now, husband."

The way he clicked his tongue—vaguely mocking—made it clear he was being silly when he said in a sad tone, "I just dinnae want its feelings hurt, ye understand."

Holding his gaze, she grinned naughtily and lifted her head off the pillow just far enough to reach the dildo. She stuck out her tongue and raked it along the long ivory length, tasting her essence in the tool's shimmery coating.

Cam's eyes had gone wide. "God Almighty, Jade," he whispered hoarsely, his gaze on her mouth. "I've never wanted another woman the way I want ye right now."

It was her turn to grin proudly. "And you never will. Now, come to me, please, husband."

The dildo fell beside them on the mattress, and he slid home.

They both gasped in unison as the now-familiar sensation of fullness enveloped Jade, and she found herself grinning as he began to work against her.

Perhaps it was the knowledge of the power she'd held when she'd surprised him. Perhaps it was the fact she hadn't been quite fulfilled with her first orgasm. Perhaps because it was her wedding day.

Whatever the reason, she wasn't surprised to feel the pressure building against her core again.

With each thrust, he sent her closer, higher and higher. She realized she was breathing in small, frantic gulps, and he was grunting with each plunge.

Grunts shouldn't be erotic, but these were. Jade found everything about this man to be arousing, erotic, and—Ai-ya! She was close again!

Their lovemaking was desperate, achingly so. She needed this as much as she needed her next meal, her next breath. And it was the knowledge she loved this man, which made it so.

Suddenly, he froze, and instinctively she tightened her hold on him. He reached between their bodies, his thumb unerringly finding her clitoris, as he thrust twice more.

And she felt herself constrict around him, urging him on.

"Come for me, Jade," he commanded.

And as always, she did.

Ai-ya, her pleasure exploded again, just as she felt the warmth of his seed spilling against her womb. Dimly, she felt him continuing to move, but her orgasm rocked her, forcing surprised mewls from her lips as she spasmed around him.

It was a lifetime later when he rolled to one side, bringing her with him, cradling her against his chest as she concentrated on just breathing.

"That was…" She couldn't form coherent thoughts. "Cam…"

"Aye, Treasure," he drawled, his big hands splayed across her chest. "Aye."

Despite her shortness of breath, she pushed herself up on her elbows, curious to see if he looked as satisfied as he sounded.

Satisfied? No. He looked smug. Preening. Immensely proud of himself.

Her lips twitched. Well, she supposed he had every reason to be. "You really are quite a talented gentleman, aren't you?"

He stacked one hand behind his head, smiling arrogantly. "Glib. Well-spoken. Charming."

She poked him in the side. "Those are just different ways of saying good with your tongue."

Chuckling, he closed his eyes. "Aye, I am, are I no'?"

Well, she could tease him just as well. "You know, when I wrote to Honoria, looking for a solution to my problem, and she convinced her sister to give me your contact information, I knew I was going to be spending the night with a man who was good with his tongue."

Cam hummed, as if interested, but didn't open his eyes.

Smiling now, she dragged her fingers down his chest, marveling at the firmness of the muscles beneath her touch. In the last weeks, they'd cleared out one of the parlors at her home, and used it to spar. She intended to allow her membership at the London Fencing Club to lapse, since she had the only partner she'd ever need now.

"Yes, indeed," she continued in a mild tone, as if she weren't planning wickedness. "I fully expected The Scot—that was you, of course—to teach me all sorts of naughty skills and tricks. I wanted to learn all about my body, and I did."

She said this last part as she slowly dragged her fingers down one of his inner thighs, and had to hold back her smile as he squirmed beneath her touch. Since she was watching, she couldn't miss the way his cock sprang to life, twitching in time to his heartbeat as it slowly began to harden once more.

His arse shifted. "What—what sorts of things?"

"Oh, things about desire and reactions…" She shifted so she was leaning down toward his hips. "And how I taste."

The way he groaned indicated he absolutely knew what she meant.

"But there's still a few things I don't know."

Her breath caressed his semi-erect cock now, and she saw his arse shift impatiently. "Like—like what, Treasure?" When she wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, his breath whooshed out of him.

"Like this."

With that, she licked from the base of his cock to the tip, and his head and shoulders came off the bed.

His expression was a mixture of shock and longing and disbelief. "What are ye doing, Jade?"

Feeling positively powerful, she settled herself between his legs and gave him a wicked grin. "Learning, my love."

Those were the last words she spoke for a while.