Epilogue

I t was such a phenomenal show of skill that some men opened their mouths with wonder. Ethelred dropped his sword and raised his hands in surrender. His face was already turning blue, the air and blood cut off by the flexing of Altair's formidably large bicep.

"D'ye yield?" Altair growled. He was in no mood to prolong this. His wound was agony. All of his focus was on keeping Laura safe, and that is what gave him strength.

Things had not gone the way Laird Redmond thought they would. Jumping to his feet, he yelled. "Ye're a cheat and a coward, Sterling. Ye tricked me, and yer village folk will pay for it."

With nothing to lose, Altair prepared to break Ethelred's neck with one snap, but he was distracted when a rider trotted into the market.

"Stop! Stop this nonsense! Laird Redmond, forgive me for my renouncement of your offer. A cart follows behind with twenty armed soldiers to guard it. Six chests of gold, sir. Double what you gave me. Will you take it and consider our bargain null and void?" It was Sir Morecambe Raleigh.

Laird Donaldsson looked stunned from Sir Raleigh to Ethelred trapped by the Highlander. It was clear that he would not get his glamorous wedding, and he had to cut his losses and the sum was too much to decline.

Altair did not let go of Ethelred until Laird Donaldsson shook hands with Laura's father and accepted the deal.

Releasing the young man from his stranglehold, Altair pushed him forward with his left hand. "Go join yer clan, lad. And dinnae think badly of yer efforts. I have two hundred years o' practice under me belt, ye ken."

Laird Donaldsson tried not to be a sore loser now that he had doubled his money. "Laura Raleigh would have made me son the perfect bride. Noo, what am I to do to get the Highland council to take us Donaldssons seriously?"

Altair could barely restrain his scorn. "It might go a long way if ye stopped calling yerselves ‘Donaldssons' and began referring to yer clan as the MacDonalds! Only the men from the Norse honor their faithers in such a way. Ye're nae Donald's son anymore. Ye're the clan o' Donald. Give that a try, ye glaikit bogger."

Turning to Sir Morecambe, Altair apologized. "That means foolish oaf in oor language, sir. Forgive me if I dinnae offer ye me right hand as a greeting. I take it ye received me message?" Signaling to Berenson, Altair jerked his head over to the guildhall while making a turn-the-key sign with his fingers. The servant marched off to release the men of Iolaire from their makeshift prison.

Sir Morecambe was so relieved to have undone the mischief his letter offering Laura's hand in marriage had caused, he could hardly speak. "Yes, yes, I thank you. I believed myself to be dreaming when that eagle came tapping on my bedchamber window with the note tied to its leg. But I managed to gain access to your horde of gold in Edinburgh after showing your seal to the merchant. I have ridden day and night to bring it to you as fast as I could."

"Did ye by any chance cross paths with Laura on yer way to the Highlands?" Altair added, "Although she might have chosen to hire a coach from a smaller town."

Sir Morecambe chuckled. "No, and there's a good reason for that." Stepping aside, the English knight pointed to a plump figure scurrying along the mountain pass road.

Hurrying so fast her shoes kept slipping in the mud, Laura ran towards Altair. She was overjoyed to see he was alive, but shocked at how pale and exhausted he was. Rushing up to him, she flung her arms around his waist. "Altair, forgive my disobedience, but I could not leave without you."

It was Sir Morecambe who replied, averting his eyes so that he did not have to watch the happy couple's embrace. "I was a fool to think you would meekly accept the man your parent chose for you, Laura. Look at the mess you caused. You must apologize to the Donalssons."

Clearing his throat, Altair murmured. "Might I have a word with ye first, sir? Ye see, to me, Laura is worth her weight in gold many times over. And I must beg you for her hand in marriage."

Sir Morecambe laughed. "You really must be in love with my daughter then!"

Giving her cheek a loving kiss, the Laird of beinn na h'Iolaire replied. "I love her with every inch of my being. Do I nae, Sonsie?"

And all Laura could do was blush, return his kiss, and demure.

The strong breezes of summer had changed to winter gales by the time the bishop visited Iolaire. He blessed the Laird's union with the bonny Sassenach noblewoman, and wished them well. All the villagers attended, throwing dried flower petals as Laura emerged from the Kirk with the black Sterling plaid wrapped tightly around her shivering body.

"Th-thank ye, g-good folk," she stuttered in rudimentary Gaelic. "I promise to hold a celebratory feast in the spring. ‘Til then, farewell."

It was strange to see how welcoming the villagers were now that thin streaks of white could be seen in Altair's hair. He was the Wicked Wizard of the Mountain no more. Laura wished that it had not taken a cross bolt through her husband's shoulder to prove that.

The stores they had stockpiled at the fortress would be enough to see them through to the warmer months. Sir Morecambe had returned to Humberside Manor to brag to his neighbors that his daughter was now a Lady. After swearing oaths of fealty, the newly named MacDonald clan had returned to their coastal castle in peace. Nurse Mildred and Mistress Berenson slowly and steadily began to clean the cobwebs from the corners in the vast, echoing chambers. The Berenson men mortared the stonewalls until flurries of snowflakes blurred their vision.

Stephen and Andrew dragged a pine log up the mountain, placing a piece of the trunk in the laird's bedchamber and then setting it ablaze.

Laura rubbed her hands together when she entered the room. "It's so lovely and warm in here. I never thought it's possible."

For some reason, she was too shy to look at Altair. She had not lain with him since that one fateful night, and Nurse Mildred had kept close by before the ring was on the bride's finger. To Laura, it felt as if her maidenhead was renewed, so apprehensive the passage of time had made her.

When he did not answer her, Laura looked around. Altair was standing by the bed, a glitter of humor in his eyes. "Me shoulder's still a wee bit stiff, Wife. Be a dear and lend me a hand?" He was dressed in full Highland regalia for the winter weather. As she watched, he pulled the bonnet off his head and began to unpin the plaid draped over his shoulders. Her motherly instincts took over as she saw him struggle with the pin.

"Wait," Laura moved towards the bed. "Sit down. It will be easier for me to reach you." Gently taking the bonnet out of his hand, she laid in on the side table, next to the candleholder. They were face to face as Altair perched on the side of the bed.

"I could get used to this," he joked as Laura began to undo the knotted ties around his neck and pull his shirt out of the belt.

"Hush," Laura pretended to be strict. "It is my earnest prayer that you will heal quickly, Husband. Now that the entire countryside knows you are no longer a boogeyman and bloodsucking monster combined, we might get a few raiders banging on the door." She knelt down to untie the boots from under his knees. After pulling them off, she removed the woolen stocks.

The only thing left was the belt holding his plaid to his body. Laura took a step back. It was to see where the buckle of the belt was sitting, but she ended up just staring at him.

Even with the red, welted scar etched next to his collarbone, Altair still had the most gorgeous body. Licking her lips, Laura could not resist running her fingers lightly over his chest. A little hum of appreciation came out of her mouth. "Mmm…"

"I'll help ye along, Sonsie," Altair grinned and moved his hand across his belt until he located the buckle. "If ye pull the end o' the belt while I hold the buckle doon, we'll have this plaid off me in a flash."

Laura took a step back. Showing how skittish she was, she shook her head while nibbling on her thumbnail, her eyes wide with nervousness. "Maybe we should blow out the candle first. This is all too…too…"

"Sudden?" Altair hazarded a guess as he saw the familiar blush rise to her cheeks. "But I want to be able to see ye. If there's art hanging on the wall, it would be a shame to keep it in the dark."

Flinging herself over to the window, Laura stared into the darkness outside. "Why can't I say wonderful compliments like that, Altair? When I try to think of a way to praise you, nothing comes to mind. I'm a dolt when it comes to romance."

Instantly, he was off the bed and standing behind her. Laura nearly swooned with happiness when she felt him pull her close. "Sonsie, never compare yerself to an auld hand like me. I was writing poorly composed poems to chambermaids when ye were a twinkle in the sky."

Facing him, she felt bolder. It seemed completely natural for her to reach up and lace her hands behind his neck. "You could never be old to me, Altair. I believe that neither of our stories began until we met. Therefore, we are the same age. Right here."

She tapped his chest, right where his heart beat faster. Then they kissed. Altair respected her shyness. He barely kissed her at all. Laura felt a whisper of warm breath as his mouth traced the cushion of her lips. She could not stop herself from expressing how lovely it felt. "Mm," she moaned softly again.

Picking her up in his arms with deceptive ease, Altair said in a teasing tone. "Mmm, indeed, Lady Sterling."

Laura squeaked. "Altair! You will reopen the wound. Put me down."

He laid her down gently on the bed, and she was mesmerized by the love-light in his eyes. Laura reveled in the sensation of being loved and lusted after at the same time. It had never happened to her before, and nor would it happen ever again in the future.

"Being close to ye is worth a few torn muscles, dinnae ye agree?"

Emboldened by his adoration, Laura took their lovemaking into her own hands. Sitting up, she hooked one finger into the belt of his plaid and pulled him down next to her. Then she straddled him at that sweet spot where she knew he would be able to feel the warmth between her thighs. She could not help writhing her hips around on him once or twice as she felt the iron hardness of his body underneath her.

"Your muscles seem to be working just fine, Husband," Laura whispered in her best saucy voice. "And I have a few of my own that I want you to experience."

He closed his eyes as if he were in exquisite pain. "Ah, ye enchantress! How can ye bring me to the brink o' ecstasy with only a few words?"

Placing a finger on his mouth, Laura hushed him. "Don't you dare. I have been dreaming about this for so long, I want it to last."

Working her hands busily, she loosened the buckle before casting it aside onto the floor, where it fell on the threshed rushes. With infinite patience, Laura opened the plaid. Her fingers were shaking, and her breath came in short, sharp pants.

His body looked marvelous in the flickering candlelight. Part perfectly sculpted statue, part physically gifted human. And even though she knew he was no longer immortal, Altair's face and body still held a certain magic for any woman, enough to tempt Laura's body into pulsing, quivering desire.

She bent to kiss and stroke his chest, her lips pressing and rubbing to feel the warmth of his skin. Feeling his body respond as she straddled him, Laura gave him a squeeze with her thighs. "Not yet."

"When?" he growled the single word in such a way that Laura understood how much he wanted her.

"Not yet," she repeated firmly, taking great pleasure in being in control. Her kisses traveled down his rock-hard torso until she could no longer reach. Rolling off him, Laura stood next to the bed, summoned up all of her courage, and began to undress. They had no secrets between them, and her nakedness would be the final mystery to be revealed. Finally, she stood in front of him wearing only her shift gown.

"Remove that gown, Sonsie, so that I can see all o' ye," Altair insisted, "or must I humbly request ye do so, seeing as ye're the one in control?"

She did as he asked, a lilting smile on her pretty rosebud mouth. Running her hands down her neck and then moving them slowly over the heavy globes of her breasts, Laura locked her eyes on her husband. She was intensely aware of how his body was reacting to the sight of her touching herself, so she continued to caress them, teasing the nipples into hard points.

It was natural to let her hands slide between her thighs. Remembering all those hot, lonely nights alone in her bed in Humberside, Laura used her finger to find the hard nub from whence stemmed all her pleasure.

This proved too much for her husband to stand. Giving a loud groan of frustration, Altair leaped off the bed and caught her around the waist. "If ye wanted to drive me insane with passion, sweetheart, consider yer job well done. Noo, come here!"

Pulling her onto the bed, this time, Altair made sure to be the one on top. At first, Laura giggled, but when she saw the fierce longing in his eyes, she was suddenly serious. This was the first time they lay naked together as husband and wife—and it was everything Laura wanted it to be. This time, there were no gritted teeth as she braced herself for the discomfort. When he entered her secret place, Laura knew the true meaning of ecstatic completion.

His rampant thrusts were slow, yet fulfilling. When he kissed her, she opened her lips to allow more of him to enter her, receiving him with eager, mounting lust. And when the undulation of their bodies got faster as their climax grew closer, Laura made sure to keep her eyes open so that she would be able to remember every moment of her honeymoon night with precise detail.

When he felt the pull of her body as the summit of her rapture approached, Altair could hold back no longer. Raking her fingernails down his back, Laura let wave after wave of utter bliss radiate through her body.

Only when they were spent did the couple fall away from one another. Laura could not put the experience into words, so she remained silent. This gave Altair the chance to lift the locket off her bosom and run the chain through his fingers.

"This is new. Where did ye get it?"

Stretching her body like a cat, Laura snuggled close to her husband. "The MacDonalds returned the box containing my mother's trinkets. This locket was precious to my mother. It held a lock of my hair, but now it houses the talisman you gave me. The stone with the eagle etched onto it."

Fumbling slightly, she lifted the chain off her neck and used her thumbnail to open the locket.

But the talisman stone was gone. The only substance inside was a fine, golden sand that blew away and disappeared the moment Laura touched it.

Far away, outside the window, an eagle cried to its mate.

Thank you so much for reading my book!