Epilogue

It was not quite the wedding that Gemma had envisioned, that much was for sure. In fact, there was hardly any wedding at all, just a ceremony in the kirk with a reverend, where they spoke their vows to each other. Captain Frazier had been a witness, as had Mrs. Gordon. Mr. Gordon had stayed behind at the homestead. Gemma would have liked her father to be there, but she understood. He’d arranged for Bryce to be her husband, not Colin. He was a kind man, but set in his ways. It wasn’t until he realized that Bryce had disappeared, and he’d heard word from the laird’s own mouth that Bryce had threatened Gemma that he relented.

That annoyed her to no end. Why must men listen to other men in order to be convinced of something? Why could they not believe the women in their lives, ones directly related to them?

Nonetheless, Gemma was simply happy to start a life with Colin and begin running her own household the way she wanted to. Her mother had taught her so much about running a home, and now it was time to put all that knowledge to use.

But first, it was time for a proper wedding night.

After the nice dinner had ended, Mrs. Gordon had given her daughter a wink and left. She and Captain Frazier were staying at Uncle Angus’s home, while Colin and Gemma stayed behind at the inn for some privacy.

It was not a bad room. Mrs. Gordon had paid for the best one they had. Gemma set down her bag and sat primly on the edge of the bed, hands folded neatly in her lap.

“What’s the matter?” Colin asked, sitting down next to her, a protective hand on her knee.

“I’m a bit nervous, I s’pose,” she confessed.

Colin wrinkled his brow.

“Nervous? ‘Tis nothin’ we havenae done before,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“Aye, but…’twas spontaneous. On the beach, in the moonlight. There were no expectations. ‘Twas just us.”

“Gemma, I dinnae expect anythin’ different of ye.”

“I ken, but…oh, never mind, I…’tis my own mind gettin’ me nervous.”

“My love, there is no pressure here. Just me. An’ all I want is ye. Just think about that, just ye an’ me. No one else. Aye?”

“Aye,” she agreed, feeling a little better.

“An’ if ye dinnae want tae do anythin’ just yet, that is fine. I am just glad we’re finally here together.”

“As am I. I dinnae think I’d ever get to see ye again, at least…not in a good way.”

“I would have gone, Gemma. If I’d kent that ye had the will tae travel tae this village, I would have gone.”

“But why?”

Colin covered her hand with his own, rubbing his thumb across it fondly.

“It woulda been unfair tae the both of us, tae be able tae see each other, but not have each other. Together, but out of reach.”

“I see. I guess that makes sense. I woulda been so sad if I’d come here an’ ye’d left, though. I dinnae ken what I woulda done.”

“Ye are a strong woman, Gemma,” Colin reassured her as he cupped her cheek with his hand. “Ye would have survived.”

“But I am glad I dinnae have tae,” she said.

“Aye,” he agreed, and before either of them could say anything else, they locked lips in a slow, passionate kiss. This was much more than the light and sweet ones they’d shared in the courtyard or in the corridor of the castle. This held the months of passion that had built up over his exile, and her desperation.

To say it was a clash of lips, tongues, and teeth would be an understatement. These were the primal urges of two people who had not been alone in a very long time.

“My darling,” he hissed gently as his teeth tugged on her bottom lip.

“Colin,” she breathed.

“May I have ye? Please?”

She nodded and let his hands roam down her body, from her neck, over her breasts and stomach, and down to her hips.

Colin wasted no time. His fingers, toughened by the forge, made things a little more difficult when untying her stays.

“Dammit,” he said, fumbling with them.

Gemma laughed lightly.

“’Tis fine, Colin. Here, let me,” she said, reaching back to help him untie them, but he frowned.

“I want tae do it myself. Tae unwrap my beautiful present.”

“Ye can play wi’ yer present after I help ye unwrap it. Is that not more satisfying?” She said flirtatiously.

He seemed to perk up a little at that — his expression, as well as the area underneath his kilt.

“Aye,” he agreed, but still could not let her go. He massaged her thighs with his hands, and the sensation sent a thrill through her body.

Finally, when her stays were unlaced, Colin helped her take them off over her head. Instead of throwing them aside like he really wanted to, the gently placed them on the chest at the foot of the bed.

“My beautiful wife,” Colin praised when she was in nothing but her shift.

“I am still half-dressed,” she giggled.

“Aye, but ’tis the most I’ve seen of ye yet. We couldnae risk nakedness on the beach, remember?”

Gemma did remember that. She’d loosened her bodice enough that he could sneak a hand around her breast, and he had touched her in her most intimate place with his fingers, but he had yet to see her naked as the day she was born.

“Aye. Are ye ready?” She asked.

Colin nodded eagerly, his red hair flopping about his face.

Gemma leaned forward and kissed him deeply one more time, savoring his taste, before she drew back and lifted the shift over her head. Nothing could have prepared her for the groan that escaped his body. It was unlike anything she’d ever heard from him.

“Oh, Gemma,” he breathed, looking at her, stunned. Gemma smiled and hummed appreciatively. All women deserved to feel this way, to have someone love them, appreciate them, and be in awe of them as Colin was.

“You like how I look?” She asked hesitantly.

“I do indeed. Can ye stand so I can…see ye? All of ye?”

She thought it a peculiar request, as she was already naked in front of him, but she acquiesced. When she stood, he directed her to stand in between his outstretched legs. The evidence of his arousal was clearly evident under his kilt.

“I think ye are rather underdressed,” she teased as his hands came to rest on her hips.

“Hmmm I dinnae ken. I think I rather prefer it like this. I might keep ye naked all the time, just for my amusement,” he said with a grin.

Feeling bold, she stepped forward and straddled his hips. It wiped that grin right off his face, and she took pleasure in the power she had over him.

“Ye prefer it like this ?”

She ground against him, moaning as her womanly parts brushed against his kilt.

“I prefer ye,” he said, planting an open mouthed kiss on her neck, “in all ways,” his mouth drifted down to her breast.

She threw her head back as he nibbled and kissed, alternating breasts to make sure each got equal attention.

In a sudden burst of boldness, she pushed him down on the bed so that his back was flush against the mattress, and she was still straddling him. That familiar wetness was pooling between her thighs already.

“Mr. Frazier, ye look lovely like this,” she mused, admiring the contours of his muscles beneath his thin shirt.

“I can assure ye, the view is much nicer from where I am,” he said, reaching up to fondle her breasts again.

“Take this off,” she urged, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Aye. Yer wish is my command,” he said. He sat up momentarily so he could throw his shirt aside, and Gemma hummed as he lay back down, exposing all of his wonderful toned torso. She’d seen him without a shirt a few times — during the summer, when training and sparring became unbearable in the heat, the lads would often discard their shirts and spar half-naked like the ancient Greeks.

But she’d never seen a man up close like this. He was beautiful. His chest had a fine smattering of fine blond hair, and he looked so much broader up close.

Apparently she’d been staring for too long, because Colin chuckled below her.

“Gettin’ a good look, lass?” he teased.

“Aye. Taking in the sight of what’s mine,” she purred, running her fingernails lightly up and down his torso. He laughed aloud at the sensation, and she felt very pleased with herself.

“I’d rather feel what’s now mine, if ye ken,” he said, wriggling his eyebrows.

“Then mayhap ye should take off yer kilt.”

She moved aside to let him disrobe. When he was done, she looked at him in awe. She’d seen a flash of his manhood before, that night on the beach, but she’d mostly felt it. Seeing him in his own naked glory like this made her cheeks burn red. Even though they were married, she was not used to the sight, and she thought him rather generously endowed.

Gemma's breath caught in her throat as Colin's hands roamed over her bare skin appreciatively. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet so desired. She could feel the heat emanating from his body. And even though he was rather a muscular, chiseled man, she never imagined that his hands could be so gentle on her body like that. It caused that pleasant shiver to go down her spine and settle at the center of her. She felt like she needed to move her hips, and so she did — right above his manhood.

Colin threw his head back in pleasure.

“Christ, lass, that feels good,” he praised, his fingers digging into her hips.

“I think it would feel better elsewhere.”

He groaned, clearly anticipating the pleasure. Neither of them spoke as she continued to grind against him.

“We can do it like this,” he breathed, looking up at her with those beautiful emerald eyes, now dark with lust.

“Ye mean…I on top?”

“Aye, an’ ye’d look lovely like that.”

The idea of it was intriguing. She’d heard other ladies talk about their bedroom experiences, during laundry day when there wasn't much else to say, but no one had been quite so explicit as to describe the act.

She sat up a little, as Colin helped maneuver his manhood, and then she sank down onto him, slowly. When he was fully sheathed inside her, she gave a pleasant sigh.

“Och, it feels good,” she exclaimed, moving her hips back and forth experimentally.

“Ye look so lovely,” he breathed, barely.

Gemma took a little pride in the fact that she’d rendered this warrior of a man helpless beneath her, barely able to breathe as he looked up at her like she’d hung the moon.

“Ye look braw, too,” she said, finding a rhythm that she liked. Apparently, Colin liked it just as much as she did, for he grunted and panted.

She knew she would find her own pleasure soon. That tight feeling, like a coil in the pit of her stomach, intensified. It became tighter and tighter as she bounced up and down on his manhood.

Her own rhythm became choppy and irregular as the coil reached its utmost tightness. And then, all at once, it snapped. Waves of pleasure coursed through her body, prickling her flesh and making her cry out. Colin praised her through it, but he was not quite finished, as his hips still bucked up into her. She was still sensitive, and each thrust had her tingling. Finally, with a roar, he found his own release, spilling himself inside her.

When they were both worn out, she collapsed on top of him, then rolled over to lie next to him.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. They just breathed, their fingers interlaced with each other.

“That was brilliant,” Colin finally said.

Gemma giggled and turned to him, nuzzling her head against his arm.

“I love ye,” she whispered, looking into his eyes.

“I love ye too, Gemma. I hope ye’ll be happy with me, in this village. I ken ‘tis not what yer used tae. ‘Tis not what I grew up with, either,” he explained, suddenly sounding a little morose.

Gemma held a finger to his lips.

“Nay. Dinnae even say that. I am happy we finally have each other, because ye are all I need.”

And she meant it, with every fiber of her being.

The moon cast a gentle light on the room, illuminating the two figures in the bed. Gemma lay nestled in Colin's arms, feeling safe and content as he held her close. She looked up at him, and his gaze met hers with a tenderness that made her heart flutter. Colin leaned in to kiss her, and Gemma felt her body responding eagerly to his touch. Their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss that left her breathless. She reached up to stroke Colin's cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers. Gemma could see the love and tenderness shining in Colin's eyes when they drew apart. She leaned in to kiss him again, her lips tracing a path down his jawline and up to his ear. She whispered the words that had been on her mind the entire evening, "I love ye."

Colin's arms tightened around her as he heard those words, and he pressed his lips to hers once again. Gemma moaned softly, feeling the intensity of their passion building between them.

Colin rolled over onto his side, his hand tracing a path down Gemma's back. She shivered with desire as his touch sent waves of pleasure through her. He pressed his body closer to hers, and she could feel the heat of his skin against hers.

Gemma responded eagerly, her hands exploring Colin's chest as their passion deepened. She felt the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers, and she knew that he was the only one for her. She kissed her way down his neck, her tongue tracing a path to his collarbone.

Colin groaned in response, and Gemma felt the intensity of their connection deepening with each passing moment. They lost themselves in each other's embrace, exploring each other's bodies under the moon's gentle light for the second time that night.

As the hours passed, Gemma felt a deep sense of love and contentment wash over her. She knew that she had found her soulmate in Colin, and that their love would last a lifetime. As they drifted off to sleep, their bodies entwined, she knew that she would never be alone. For she was with the one she loved, and nothing could ever tear them apart.

Colin looked out at the rolling hills of the Scottish Highlands from the open door of his forge, taking in the beauty of the countryside around him. It was a peaceful scene, with the soft green hills stretching out as far as the eye could see, dotted with the occasional rocky outcropping and the bright splash of wildflowers. In the distance, he could see the tiny village that lay at the heart of the region, with its small cluster of buildings and its lively marketplace. After some work at his Uncle Angus’s forge, Colin realized he had a knack for it, as well as a head for business. With Gemma’s dowry and Colin’s savings, he bought his uncle’s forge and expanded the business. And it was booming.

As he stood in his new forge, Colin couldn't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction and contentment. This was his home now, and he was happy here. He had built a small cottage not far from his forge, where he and his wife Gemma could raise their family in peace and quiet. Gemma was inside now, tending to their young children and preparing a stew for their dinner. Colin could hear her singing softly to the baby in her arms, and the sound made his heart swell with love and joy.

Before walking over to the cottage, he doused his face with cold water from the well nearby. Gemma liked to keep their cottage clean, and when he was sweaty and streaked with dirt and ash from the forge, she did not much like it.

Inside, the fire in the hearth crackled and snapped, sending orange sparks up into the chimney. The smell of the stew mingled with the scent of wood smoke, creating a delicious aroma that filled the room. Colin could see Gemma in the corner, stirring the pot with one hand while she cradled one of the twins with the other.

“Hello, love,” she said, smiling up at him as he entered. “How was the forge?”

“Braw,” Colin replied, taking a seat at the table. “I finished that new set of horseshoes for old Malcom down the way, an’ I managed tae fix that stubborn lock on the kirk door. How are the bairns?”

Gemma beamed with pride as she showed him the baby in her arms.

“They’re both doing so well. Our little Ewan is growin’ up so fast, and our wee lassie is a clever thing. She’s already crawlin’ around the place an’ getting intae everything.”

Colin laughed, reaching out to tickle his daughter’s chubby cheek.

“Aye, Isla’s a handful, that one. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They settled into their meal, chatting about the day’s events and making plans for the future. As they ate and talked, Colin couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe and gratitude for the life he had built. It hadn’t been an easy road, to be sure. Leaving the clan had forced the both of them to be creative in their thinking and resourceful with their money, but they had a good network of support. Angus had been generous and helpful, and Gemma’s parents, although upset that Gemma was now so far away and no longer part of the clan, helped her in any way they could.

And now, as Colin looked around at his wife and children and the cozy cottage they called home, he knew that it had all been worth it. He had found a new family there, one that he loved just as fiercely as the one he had left behind. He had found a purpose in his work as a blacksmith, using his skill to help the people of his community. And most of all, he had found a sense of peace and contentment that he had never known before.

Colin wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, feeling the heat of the forge permeate his skin. The fire roared, casting flickering shadows across the small space, illuminating the tools hanging on the walls and the piles of metal strewn across the ground. He had been working for hours, hammering a piece of steel into shape, and he was exhausted.

But he couldn’t rest just yet. There was still work to be done.

As he reached for his hammer, he heard a noise outside. Someone was approaching. He turned, expecting to see a neighbor or a lost traveler seeking directions. The worst case scenario was that it was a traveling thief or murderer — and Colin’s cottage was closeby, as were his wife and children. Instead, a hooded figure stepped into the forge, his face concealed by the shadows of his cloak.

Colin tensed, gripping his hammer tighter, but the man spoke before he could react.

“I need ye tae forge a grand sword for me,” the man said, his voice gravelly and deep.

Colin narrowed his eyes, suspicious.

“And who might ye be, stranger?”

The man hesitated for a moment, then reached into his cloak and produced a large bag of gold, which he tossed onto the table between them.

“My identity is of no consequence. All that matters is that ye forge the sword for me.”

Colin’s eyes widened as he peered into the bag. There was enough gold there to feed his family for months, maybe even years. He felt a pang of guilt for even considering it, but he couldn’t deny the temptation.

“What do ye need the sword for?” He asked, hoping to glean some information.

The man merely shook his head.

“That is not yer concern. All ye need tae ken is that I will return for it when it is finished.”

Colin was about to refuse, but then he thought of his wife and children. They were not struggling, but when had more money ever been a bad thing? The gold could make a world of difference. He hesitated for a moment longer, then made his decision.

“All right,” he said, grabbing a hunk of steel from the pile. “I’ll do it. But I need tae ken for whom the sword is being made. It will help me wi’ the design.”

The man seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded.

“Very well. The sword is for a nobleman, one worthy of a laird.”

Colin nodded, taking note of the information. He wondered which laird the stranger meant, but it was clear that the man would not divulge any more information.

“Very well. I suppose I’m not tae ken yer name for the pickup then?”

The hooded man shook his head, and try as he might, Colin could not get a glimpse of him.

“I’ll arrive the way I came. Hooded. Ye will ken ‘tis me.”

“Alright. I need two weeks tae make somethin’ suitable. Is that well for ye?”

“Aye. Thank ye.”

The man disappeared before Colin could ask anything else. He hurried out of the shop, mounted his steed quickly, and rode away almost as quickly as he’d arrived.

Colin watched until he was gone, then shrugged and eyed the gold. As shady a deal as it was, this amount of gold was nothing to scoff at — and he’d do anything to help his family.

Anything.