Her Highland Temptation: Extended Epilogue

One month later…

Lyla studied the fall of her wedding gown in the mirror and smiled. The fit was perfect, just like the weather outside. Downstairs, she knew the servants would have decorated the Great Hall to stunning perfection for the wedding.

The weather was passing from summer to autumn, but there were plenty of flowers still growing for the decorations, and the first harvest had provided an excellent bounty for the feast afterward.

A knock on the door announced the presence of her two attendants. Erin and Alyn would be walking with her, even as Ryan and Cai would stand with Daemon.

Erin smiled at her as she studied her appearance. Lyla looked down at the pale green gown she wore, decorated with flowing vines around the hem and sleeves. It accented the color of her eyes and her hair, and Erin nodded approvingly. “Ye look lovely.”

“Thank ye.” Lyla stood still as her sister fastened the MacDougall clan tartan as a sash around her shoulder for the last time. At the end of the ceremony, she would receive her new husband’s tartan, as well as his name.

“Are ye ready?” Alyn looked flushed with excitement. “’Tis nearly time.”

“Aye. Nearly ready.” Lyla caught a momentary look of concern on Erin’s face. “What is it?”

“News from MacLean. Darren brought it this morn. The king has decided on an additional measure tae ensure the harmony between Clan Ranald and Clan MacLean is maintained.” Erin’s voice was soft, with undercurrents of uncertainty that were rare to hear in her elder sister’s voice.

“Aye. What sort o’ measure?”

“The king has decreed that Darren MacLean will be wed tae Alayne Ranald, tae form a bond o’ kinship between the two clans, and Laird MacLean will claim stewardship over Clan Ranald until such time as Laird Ranald is released from prison, having been reformed, or until a second son is born and raised tae take up the mantle o’ Laird Ranald.”

Lyla grimaced in sympathy. “Poor Darren. He didnae wish tae marry Alayne Ranald. Did he nae try tae wed the sister o’ Laird Stewart tae avoid being forced intae a union with the Ranald clan?”

“He did.” Erin sighed. “But mayhap it willnae be too bad. I’ve heard Darren only refused the match because the conditions that the former Laird Ranald proposed were unfavorable fer MacLean. ‘Tis possible that he’ll have a good marriage with Alayne.”

“’Twill be difficult. There’s bad blood between them, and nae telling how she feels towards him, especially with his involvement in the fate o’ her faither and braither.” Lyla sighed. “I cannae say who I feel sorrier fer, in all honesty.”

“Aye. Ye and me both. But enough o’ that.” Erin smiled and tossed her head. “’Tis yer wedding day, and a day o’ celebration.”

Lyla smiled. “Ye’re right.” She took a last look at her reflection, and followed Alyn and Erin out of the room and toward the Great Hall.

Her father was waiting at the door for her. He smiled and offered her his arm. “Are ye ready, daughter?”

“I am, Faither.” She looped her arm through his as Alyn and Erin took up their positions in front of her.

Musicians began to play the music selected for her entrance. The doors swung open, to reveal a long carpet, with an arch of flowers at the far end. To either side, the friends of her family stood arrayed, including Darren and Marcus, and their brother Keegan, with his wife and brother-by-marriage, as well as other friends of the family. At the end of the aisle, she could see Daemon, wearing the formal attire of a Clan Laird, waiting with Ryan and Cai. Her heart skipped a beat at how handsome he looked.

Her father led her forward to where her groom waited with the priest. Once there, the music stopped and Kaelin placed her hands in Daemon’s.

The priest stepped forward. “Who brings this woman here taeday tae be married?”

Her father’s voice was strong, resounding through the space as he replied. “I, Laird Kaelin, Laird o’ Clan MacDougall, dae hereby bring me daughter, Lyla MacDougall, tae be wed this day tae this man.”

The priest nodded. “And who brings this man here taeday tae be married?”

Ryan spoke up. “I, Ryan MacMillan o’ Clan MacMillan, war leader and adopted kinsman o’ Laird MacMillan, dae hereby bring this man, Laird Daemon MacMillan, Laird o’ Clan MacMillan, tae be wed taeday tae this woman.”

“Laird MacMillan, and Lady Lyla MacDougall, we are gathered here taeday tae witness the bond o’ marriage established between the two o’ ye. Dae ye both consent tae this union, and come tae it willing and in sound health o’ both body and mind?”

“Aye. I dae.” The words came from both of them.

“And dae ye pledge tae love each other, tae support each other and stand taegether in sickness and health, in good times and bad, in poverty and wealth?”

“Aye. I dae.” The words came from both of them once more.

“Speak yer vows.”

Daemon turned to Lyla, and she met his eyes. Her heart was singing as he spoke. “Lyla MacDougall, ye brought sunshine and joy intae me life, when I was wrapped in gloom and sorrow. Ye taught me how tae live, when I was trapped in grief. Ye chased away me sorrows and helped me rediscover the happiness I had forgotten fer a long time. Fer now and forever, I will love and cherish ye, and strive tae bring ye the same joy ye brought me. This I so swear.”

Lyla took a deep breath. “Daemon MacMillan, I never kent passion or what it meant tae love a man, until I began tae love ye. Ye showed me things I had never dreamed o’, and joy I’d never imagined possibly. Ye made me life richer and deeper and more wonderful. Ye gave me stability and safety, and another home tae love. Fer now and forever, I will love and cherish ye, and strive tae give ye the same strength and support ye have given me. This I so swear.”

“Dae ye, Laird MacMillan, take this woman tae be a member o’ yer clan, as yer wife and the Lady MacMillan, from this day henceforth?”

“I dae.”

“And dae ye, Lady Lyla, agree tae tak’ the name o’ yer husband and yer place as Lady MacMillan, from this day henceforth?”

“I dae.”

The priest raised his hands and intoned a short blessing over both of them. Then his hands clasped theirs. “Then, by the power invested in me by God and afore these witnesses, I now pronounce ye husband and wife. Laird MacMillan…” The priest released them. “…ye may kiss the bride.”

Daemon’s lips claimed hers in a searing kiss that made her heart sing and set her body aflame. Lyla leaned into him, and it was only the chuckling of their friends and family that made her pull back.

Daemon smiled roguishly and bent to whisper in her ear. “We’ll continue this later.”

Together, the two of them turned and faced their friends and family as the priest raised his voice a final time. “I give ye, the Laird and Lady MacMillan!”

As the two of them joined their friends and family in celebration, Lyla’s heart soared in joy.

At long last, she’d found the love of her life. And she knew that, somewhere, Rowan smiled and celebrated their marriage as well.

The End.