Love in the Time of a Highland Laird (A Laird for All Time Book 3), Angeline Fortin [top ten ebook reader txt] 📗

“Whether ye like it or nae.” Glancing over his shoulder at her, his lips kicked up in the corner. “Whether she likes it or nae.”

He strode to Al and took her in his arms once more. “Tell me ye’ll marry me.”

Tears burned in her eyes. “I will.”

“And say again how ye love me.”

“With all my heart.”

With a grin, he bent his head and kissed her.

“We’re not going to go through this again, are we?” Mathilde asked dryly.

“It’s been some time since I’ve done a wedding,” Artair spoke up. “I shall hae tae prepare a sermon.”

Groaning under her breath, Al kissed the man of her dreams and thanked God for accidents.

Epilogue

The redcoats hadn’t offered much of a fight, Keir told her later. The Highlanders didn’t fight like the Sassenach who lined up just so before taking a shot. They had attacked en masse and broken through the enemy formation by the time the second line had taken their shot.

It was only a stray bullet grazing his temple that had delayed his return. The way it sounded, adrenaline had energized him through the fighting. He hadn’t even been aware of the injury until he’d been on his way to the inn and briefly fallen unconscious in an alley where Artair found him.

She’d wanted to stay at the inn and nurse him, but he’d insisted they start straightaway back to Rosebraugh to avoid any other encounters with the soldiers.

But the redcoats hadn’t come after them. Nor did they in the days following. Cumberland had recaptured a few of the men and had his trial in Carlisle. Following Keir’s example, a mob of angry Scots had stormed the building and freed them. Holding Cumberland and his senior officers as leverage, they were petitioning King George, who was also Cumberland’s first cousin, for peace.

When he hadn’t responded straight away, others had taken up the standard and attacked the prisons in Inverness and Carlisle and farther south in York and Kennington Common. Even the prison hulk on the Thames had been struck. An accord between England and Scotland was being negotiated.

Part of the terms laid out by Scotland was for Cumberland to face punishment for his ‘crimes against humanity,’ a term newly coined for the time in a long letter by the Duke of Ross to King George detailing the atrocities Cumberland had heaped upon the Highlanders after the battle at Culloden.

History had a way of changing.

So did families.

Oran returned from the Orkney Islands with news that Maeve’s husband, Robert MacLeod, had died from an infection from a minor wound he received in the battle. In her grief, Maeve had thrown herself from the cliffs on the southern coast of the island of Hoy.

Mathilde and Ceana were grief-stricken. Al, too, felt a true sorrow for how unkindly life had treated Maeve.

Mathilde was fast becoming her dearest friend besides Keir. Though she was to return to the Lowlands and her husband soon, she promised to bring her daughters to Rosebraugh soon to visit and be tutored.

Having bet on the wrong side, Cairn’s perfect image with the English monarch was soiled. His place in court lost, he left Scotland for Paris.

Without a word to anyone.

But he did send a note days later.

Ceana and her Earl of Braemore had gone as well to wait out the reprisal of the English king on those who had stood in opposition to him. She would return someday soon, Ceana promised and Al would welcome her back. At least life would never be boring with her around.

Nor would it be in general. Keir had plans for them, both romantically and academically. Having received word that his discovery of two new planets and their moons was being duly noted, he was determined to see what else he could find. No cheating, though, she was only there for confirmation after the fact.

Fortunately, Dingwall didn’t suffer heavily under the land seizures of the Highland lairds. Not because the sins of the father hadn’t descended upon the son, but because Keir had made friends over the years in some high places.

He might suffer some retribution in the days ahead though if he continued to flout the new laws against Highland customs, Al thought. They might also be negotiating with England to change them as well, but they weren’t gone yet.

Keir didn’t care. Dressed in full Highland regalia, from his kilt to his sporran, he stood in open defiance of the law at Hugh’s graveside.

The wind was blowing from the south off the Moray Firth, tugging at the long length of tartan flung over his shoulder, lifting the hem of his kilt. He wore the outlawed broadsword hanging from his hip, too.

The banned bagpipes wailed mournfully as Hugh was laid to rest. Artair’s eloquent but lengthy eulogy kept them standing there for a long while.

Al stood by Keir’s side, his hand tight around hers as they waited out the speech patiently.

She was to officially become the mistress of Rosebraugh and Dingwall in just four days, though by the traditional Highland customs, they were already wed having publicly stated their intentions in a handfast ceremony. She would be Duchess of Rosebraugh, eventually Countess of Dingwall, but most importantly, Keir’s bride. His wife.

Forever.

She’d probably never read another novel. She’d never need to dwell in far-flung fantasy again. Reality—or alternate reality—provided everything she’d ever need to be happy.

Someone to love.

Someone to love her in return.

And a purpose.

If at some point over the years she just happened to “discover” the light bulb a century early…

Well…

Accidents happened for a reason.

Author’s Note

I wonder if you recognize Hugh and Keir from A Time & Place for Every Laird? I’ve gotten many emails since it was published asking about the American Indian who’d been imprisoned with Hugh and escaped at the same time but also a few inquiries about the cousin he left behind on the battlefield at Culloden. I got to thinking, since a wormhole is a two-way street, it would be interesting if