Epilogue

Tùr Meiloach, two months later

T he hushed audience listened, transfixed, as the tale neared its conclusion:

“Wicked Donal fought the peat man in a gey fierce fight.

But the Fates had turned our peat man into a noble knight.

So the virtuous ladies are safe and Wicked Donal is defeated,

He will never win, nor his dastardly deeds e’er be repeated.

Wicked Blackheart can no longer on Lomondside abide,

For the brave Sir Goodheart would fain hang him high.

Sithee, Wicked Donal Blackheart betrayed his rightful chief,

So when he ends in Hades; may he linger there in grief!”

Muriella barely finished reciting the last few words before her listeners in the lower hall burst into tumultuous cheers, applause, and foot-stomping.

Those at the high table applauded more politely. But Lina had to choke back gurgles of laughter and dared not look at Ian, knowing what he must think of himself as Sir Goodheart.

Fortunately, he sat at her father’s right with Mag between them.

Andrena, sitting at Lina’s right, on that first night of Ian’s long-promised visit to Tùr Meiloach, said faintly, “Do you suppose Murie knows how well she captured Dougal’s nature in that silly tale? She described him as if she had known him long and well. Yet I’m nearly certain that she has yet to clap eyes on the man.”

“I am certain she has not,” Lina said. “She questioned you thoroughly after you met him, though, and she said that Lizzie had told her everything about our capture and captivity. You know how Murie stores up such details.”

Lady Aubrey, sitting at Andrena’s other side, said, “We should adjourn to the solar now. In troth, Lina,” she added, “I do not want to share you with everyone else in the hall on your first night here.”

Someone had begun to play a lute and sing, and others were singing along.

When Lady Aubrey spoke to Andrew, he nodded, rose, and said something to the other men at the high table. The result was that everyone there followed her upstairs.

Lina waited for Murie, who hurried up to her, grinning. “What did you think? Did I get all of the details right? Why is everyone leaving?”

“Because Mam wants us to be together as a family tonight,” Lina said. “And I would liefer talk to you and the family than listen to the singing here.”

“Well, I am not so sure that I want to go up there with everyone,” Muriella said. “Mag did not seem to like my tale, nor did Master Robert MacAulay. I do not know why Ian brought him along. He is not at all amusing, Lina.”

“Well, Sir Alex is here, too. You like him, do you not?”

“Aye, sure. He is much merrier than Master Robert. But I am glad that I do not mean ever to marry. I doubt a man exists that I could love longer than a day.”

Amused, Lina said, “Never?”

Murie grinned. “Never. Sithee, I want to learn all I can, and when I say that to Mag or to Master Rob, they just shake their heads at me.”

Trying to think how to put her thoughts tactfully, Lina said, “I think you might have to add Ian to the head-shakers after tonight, Murie. He will not properly appreciate your description of him and what he did.”

“What man does not want to be a hero? Ian has not complained before.”

Since she was not sure that Ian had ever heard any tales about himself, Lina said, “I noticed that you said naught about Mam’s part in any of this.”

“I knew she would not like it,” Murie said. “Forbye, she would not tell me anything about what happened to her. But I can add that after you tell me about it.”

“I’m afraid I won’t do that,” Lina said gently. “Nor do I think you would be wise to ask Ian. He is more likely to take you to task for having said as much about Dougal as you did. You must ken fine that Dougal will not like that, either, Murie.”

“Dougal is not here,” Murie pointed out. But she cast a glance up the stairway, where the door to the solar had come into view.

Ian stood there, frowning. He smiled when Lina caught his eye. But when they reached him, he said, “I wish you had let me hear your tale before you recited it to everyone, Muriella, especially as so much of it was about me.”

“I told them naught but what happened,” she said defensively.

“We’ll talk more about that anon,” he said. “Right now, I want you to go on into the solar and sit near your mam, because I mean to sit with my lady wife. We have both been gey busy these past weeks, and I have seen too little of her.”

Without argument, Muriella went into the solar. When Lina moved to follow her, Ian put a hand on her arm. “Must we stay?” he asked her.

“For a time at least,” she said, smiling at him again. “You were gey tactful, sir. I warrant you’d much rather have—”

“You don’t know what I’d like to do to her,” he said. “But right now that doesn’t concern me much, either.”

He had wanted to throttle Muriella each time she had mentioned blasted Sir Goodheart. But his sole concern now was to get his lady wife all to himself, preferably in their bed. “Art sure we must go in?” he asked her again.

“I am,” she said firmly. “And tonight, sir, you will do as I say.”

“Will I, your ladyship? Will I, indeed?”

“You will if you know what is good for you.”

He kissed her thoroughly then and without sparing a thought for the others. “I do know what’s good for me, my beautiful love. You are.”

“I’ve just recalled that there be summat ye dinna ken yet,” Andrew said, rather suddenly and most irritatingly filling the doorway beside Ian.

“What is that, sir?” Ian asked, striving for patience.

“Me charters have gone missing. I thought me lady might have taken them when she left here with Margaret for Bannachra. Sithee, earlier Aubrey had feared I might want to have a look at them to be sure they were safe. She was right, too, because I did that verra thing after she left. But she vows she never touched them, and I’m bound to say that I dinna ken how she could, for I never told her where I put them.”

Ian drew a breath before he said, “What would you have me do, sir?”

“Nowt that anyone can do,” Andrew said. “We’ll just have to think how to oust Pharlain from Arrochar and take it back ourselves, I expect.”

“Then, perhaps, we might talk more about that later, sir. At present…”

When he paused, Andrew looked from one to the other of them before he said, “Och, aye, I’ll leave ye be tonight then.”

“Thank you, sir. Now,” Ian added, taking her in his arms, “where were we?”

“We were about to go in there with the others,” she said. “Did you really just call me your beautiful love?”

“I did, and we were not just about to go in with the others.”

“But we were,” she said, meeting his gaze mischievously. “I thought you had learned to be tactful. But it would be most un tactful simply to walk awa—”

Her words ended in a muffled shriek when he put a hand over her mouth.

“Tact is overvalued,” he said. “Now, come to bed.”

Laughing, she allowed him to urge her up the stairs. He was grinning, too.

Inside the chamber that Lady Margaret had occupied before, where earlier they had found, to Ian’s relief, a new and longer bed, they hastily disrobed and fell onto that bed together. There, they playfully teased each other to heights that he realized they had scarcely begun to explore.

He brought her nearly to her peak and then possessed her, so that they rose again together. Their culmination revealed that, just as her serenity could calm him and her anger could ignite his, her passion for him enflamed his desire for her.

“We will be happy much more often than we’ll fratch,” he murmured.

“Is that a command, my love?”

“Aye, sure,” Ian said drowsily.