Fin smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
“I hope it is something you can get used to.”
“As long as ye’re there, I could get used tae livin’ under a tree,” he said. “Wherever ye are, that’s home tae me.”
Ivy’s eyes filled with tears, and she pressed her mouth to his. Their kiss was short, but the love and emotion she put into it lingered on Fin’s lips as her eyes burned deep into him, imprinting themselves upon his very soul.
He truly did not care where they went or where they lived. So long as Ivy was with him, he knew he would always be happy. She was all that mattered to him and all that he wanted in the world.
“I love you, Finlay Begbie.”
“And I love ye, Baroness Welton.”
Epilogue
One Year Later…
Ivy
The music saturated the air, almost as thick as the laughter that surrounded them. Ivy sat at the table on the raised dais, overlooking the crowd down below. The grassy bailey of Cherrythorn Manor had been transformed for the wedding party. Long tables filled the bailey for the feast and were filled with people eating and talking. The decorations were beautiful and played to the naturally beautiful aspects of Elix. Much of it was done to match the cherry blossoms so common there.
A small group of musicians played on a dais of their own to the side of the bailey as people danced around them. Some of the Scotsmen, Fin, and Col’s kin had come down for the wedding and were busy teaching some of her people traditional Scottish wedding games and dances. The eruptions of laughter were many, and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves.
She looked over at Fin, who sat next to her and still could not believe he was her husband. It seemed they had gone through so much to get to the point they were at, but as she thought about the hardships and trials, she knew it was well worth it.
“What’s on yer mind?” he asked, favoring her with a smile.
“I was just reflecting on our journey to get to this point,” she replied.
“Oh, like when ye tried tae tell me tae take yer bags and order me about like a houseboy the day we met?”
A shrieking peal of laughter escaped her, and Ivy clapped her hands as she recalled that day in the bailey at York. She had nearly forgotten that.
“I am never going to live that down, am I?” she asked.
“Nae as long as I draw breath.”
She grinned at him. “Keep bringing that up, and that might not be as long as you imagine.”
Fin laughed and leaned over, pressing his mouth to hers. She had always found it so strange that for such a hard, large, and rugged man, he had the softest lips. And that he was so gentle with her. He was a man of contradictions, but Ivy loved each and every one of them. They were part of him, and there was nothing about him that she did not love.
Over the last year, they had made a nice home for themselves at Cherrythorn Manor. Though technically still under the control of Duke Hamilton, he seemed content to let her rule as the Baroness. Fin had taken it upon himself to make Elix more financially successful than it had been in the past. He doubled the number of cherry trees in the orchards and had begun teaching artisans to craft exquisitely made furniture.
It was not long before English nobles began clamoring for his works, increasing Elix’s revenues a hundred times over and raising the esteem at Court. Rather than remain the fringe hanger-on it had been under Castor — and even Ivy’s father - Elix was becoming a respected player in London. Not that either she or Fin actually cared about Court politics. Still, Ivy thought it was nice to be regarded positively by the nobles for a change.
That Elix was becoming prosperous and respected was something that Ivy enjoyed. That it had come about mainly because of the death of her brother was something that left her feeling conflicted. Although she did not like Castor very much and was appalled by what he had become, he was still her brother. And his death was something that still weighed on her from time to time. When she found herself in those times, she often visited his grave. She had ordered that his body be interred in the family cemetery on Cherrythorn Manor grounds. For all his faults and his misguided beliefs, he was still a Welton and deserved to be buried with his ancestors.
Ivy watched as Hollis and Mira stood together off to the side and away from the crowd. The relationship between them had blossomed into something beautiful, and Ivy could not have been happier to see them together. They both were special people and deserved to be joyful.
“Do ye ken he’s goin’ tae ask her tae marry him anytime soon?” Fin asked, obviously noticing the pair as well.
“I certainly hope so,” she replied. “But Mira thinks his shyness is adorable. She enjoys being able to keep him on his toes the way she does.”
“Aye. Well, I certainly enjoy seein’ him be kept on his toes like that.”
Ivy laughed and slapped his hand playfully. “You are positively beastly.”
“Aye. But ye married me anyway.”
A sultry grin touched her lips as mischief sparkled in her eyes. “There are certain times I enjoy your beastliness.”
Fin laughed softly. “I cannae wait tae show ye me beastliness later.”
He leaned forward, and they kissed. Ivy’s lips parted, allowing him to slide his tongue into her mouth as he ran his fingers through her hair. If she’d had her way, they would go up to their bedchamber right then and there. But Ivy knew there were certain traditions to uphold and appearances that had to be kept.
Once she began handling the duties of Elix herself as the Baroness, Ivy had come to realize that Castor had been right about the undue burden of social obligations and the proper etiquette; they could be very tiresome, very quickly.
The sound of somebody clearing their throat interrupted them, and when Ivy pulled herself away from Fin and looked up, she saw Duke Hamilton, Col, and Gillian all standing on the steps of the dais looking at them. Duke Hamilton was the only one with a flushed face who looked uncomfortable by their amorous display. Ivy laughed softly.
“I am so glad to see you both back to peak health, Duke Hamilton, and of course, Gillian,” Ivy said. “I am very relieved and happier than I can express.”
“It was a long journey to get here, but I am relieved as well,” the Duke said.
They had spent time hosting Col and Gillian for the last week, but that was one of those societal obligations that came with her title since she had not seen Duke Hamilton in quite some time. He was only just now feeling comfortable in the eye of the public. He looked more like the hale and hearty man Ivy had always known him to be. And that did, in fact, make her heart glad.
“Anyway, I would like to make an announcement,” the Duke said. “If you do not mind me cutting in on your wedding day.”
“Please,” Ivy said with a laugh. “By all means, cut in. Just be certain you do not cut in on our wedding night.”
Duke Hamilton’s cheeks colored, but the smile on his face was warm and genuine. He laughed and turned around, giving Col a nod. Col, holding onto Gillian’s hand, turned and shouted for quiet. The entire bailey fell dead silent in the blink of an eye, and all eyes turned to them.
“That was impressive, Cousin,” Fin chuckled.
“Aye. Tis too bad it never works on ye though.”
Duke Hamilton cleared his throat and gave them both a stern look, but even he could not quite keep the smile from his face. But he turned back to the crowd who was giving him their full attention.
“As many of you know, I would not be here today if not for the heroic actions of so many,” the Duke intoned. “The soldiers of York and my personal guard. And I would like to acknowledge the Captain of my personal guard, Henry Carson, for assuming command and leading the fight one year ago.”
Applause and cheers erupted around the bailey. People patted Henry on the back, and he looked distinctly uncomfortable. He was not a man who enjoyed the praise and adulation of others.
“I would also like to give my thanks to Col Lennox
, the Baron of Westmarch,” the Duke continued. “If not for his timely arrival, all may have been lost despite the heroic actions of so many.”
Thunderous applause erupted once more, with many of the Scotsmen banging their mugs on the tabletops. The Duke held his hand up to silence the crowd again. He cast a glance back at Fin and Ivy, a small smile pulling the corners of his mouth upward.
“There are many I have to thank for still being here today, but perhaps none more so than Baroness Ivy Welton and Finlay Begbie,” he said. “If not for their determination and their actions in bringing the treacherous and murderous actions of the former Baron of Elix to light… well… things would be very different right now.”
Ivy smiled and looked over at Fin. Not for the first time, she thought that strangely, her brother’s treachery is what helped her find the purest and truest love in her life. Had he not been a treasonous man who attempted to murder a good man, Ivy knew she may never have met Fin. She would probably be married off to some minor noble, living an unhappy and unfulfilled life. Ivy knew if not for the evil her brother tried to do, she would have gone to her grave, never knowing true love and never experiencing genuine happiness.
“Even in the worst of things, good can emerge,” the Duke said. “Such as the love that has blossomed between them.”
Duke Hamilton raised his goblet of wine as the people in the bailey exploded with applause and cheer. It took some time for the crowd to settle down enough for him to speak again, but it seemed Duke Hamilton was more than happy to give them all the time in the world to soak in the adulation of the people. Ivy felt the heat flare in her cheeks, and even Fin shifted uncomfortably in his chair as the applause rained down on them. Apparently, they were no better than Henry when it came to being recognized.
“So, on this day, the day they have made their vows to each other,” the Duke continued once the applause had died down, “it is my sincerest pleasure to return Cherrythorn Manor to its rightful family. Baroness Welton will be the Lady of Elix going forward, and York relinquishes all rights to it.”
Ivy felt her stomach lurch, and her vision suddenly blurred as tears welled in her eyes. After the battle with Castor, Elix was annexed by York, and Cherrythorn Manor became a property of Duke Hamilton. She had not expected that Cherrythorn Manor would be given back to her. That her ancestral home would once again be hers. Before she even realized what she was doing, Ivy leaped out of her chair and threw herself into Duke Hamilton’s arms. He laughed as he embraced her, and she looked up at him as tears rolled down her face.
“Thank you, My Lord,” she whispered. “This is a gift I cannot repay.”
He smiled gently. “It is merely setting things right and returning something that has always been yours.”
“Thank you all the same.”
Duke Hamilton placed a gentle kiss on the crown of her head, then turned to Fin and beckoned for him to come. Fin got to his feet and joined them on the stairs, taking Ivy’s hand in his. He shared a look with her, and she saw how genuinely happy for her he was.
“Also, to show my gratitude, I am this day, bestowing the title of Baron upon Finlay Begbie. Although, I dare say he will be taking his orders from the Baroness,” the Duke said and then gave him a wink.
Fin laughed and nodded. “Aye. I ken ye’re right about that.”
The applause were near deafening as Fin thanked the Duke, and then they all exchanged embraces with Col and Gillian. Everybody went back to the party, leaving Fin and Ivy alone on the dais again. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, and Ivy felt her heart thundering in her chest. Even after a year, he still had that effect on her, and she loved it.
“Today has been perfect,” she said, looking up into his eyes. “Absolutely perfect.”
“Aye. It has,” he said. “And ye are absolutely perfect.”
Ivy felt the warmth in her cheeks, and she looked away. “That is not close to being true.”
Fin cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her head, making her look at him again. A gentle smile touched his lips.
“Ye’re perfect for me,” he replied. “And I love ye.”
For what felt like the thousandth time that day, her vision shimmered as her eyes filled with tears. Perfect did not adequately explain her life at the moment. It was insufficient. But until they found a new word that would better describe how she felt, Ivy knew she would have to be satisfied with it.
“I love you too, Baron Begbie.”
He laughed softly. “Baron Begbie,” he said. “Doesnae really feel right for me.”
“You will grow accustomed to it in time,” she said as a mischievous light filled her eyes. “But do not think for a moment that you will not be taking orders from me.”
Fin laughed out loud then pressed a kiss to her lips. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, his smile never fading.
“And I wouldnae have it any other way.”
But there’s more…
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Afterword
Thank you for reading my novel, Siren of the Highlands. I really hope you enjoyed it! If you did, could you please be so kind to write your review HERE?
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Highlanders of Cherrythorn
Book#1
Phantom of the Highlands
Book#2 (this book)
Siren of the Highlands
Book#3
Every Highland Sin
Do you want more Romance?
If you’re a true fan of the Scottish romance genre, here are the first chapters of my previous best-selling novel: Taken by her Highland Enemy
This time, we follow the story of Isabelle, a rebellious English lady who manages to convince her enemy to steal her away. Did I mention that this enemy is the most enticing Highlander? Together, as they grow closer, they will try to stop her father's vile plans. How will she convince her Highlander? And how much of a threat is her father?
Taken by her Highland Enemy
Prologue
March 1756, Fort William
Eamon Wilson felt the cold stone against his back as he hid out of sight of the torches. He couldn’t wait until all this hiding was over, and his enemy could be removed from his list of concerns, his head cut off and set upon a stake, finally quelling the reach of the serpent’s tongue into his lands.
His hand clutched the sword at his side, and his eyes roved from one end of the shadowy stone wall to the other. He was close to the enemy because Lord Cutler was in the very same fort that Eamon was watching, most likely stuffing his face with cold meats and jellies, bread, and sweets, oblivious to the bloody fate that lay before him. The boy was late tonight. The thought irked Eamon, for at any moment, he could be found by Cutler’s guard and taken into the fort to be tortured and eventually executed.
The English were bloodthirsty, land-hungry, and greedy beyond compare. Eamon knew what they were capable of. He’d seen it before when soldiers would come and destroy the villages, looting them, killing its inhabitants, having no mercy. War had been going on too long in these lands, and Eamon wanted it back for the pride of all Highlanders, especially for the ones slaughtered at Culloden.
Eamon was tired of being afraid. There was a time in his past when he had been too afraid and, thus, fled. His family and his brother’s family had suffered greatly as a result, and for years, he hadn’t had the courage to return to them. He didn’t know if his brother would ever forgive him for what he’d done, but this time he was not going to flee. He was going to face the enemy head-on, and once he learned everything about them, he would find Sean and try to get him to unders
tand the danger he was in.
The English would stop at nothing to get what they wanted, and this time the King wanted revenge. Just last year, the King’s nephew, Sir Henry Shefford, was in the Highlands and attempted to slaughter a well-known band of Scottish thieves, but he died in a vicious battle at the hands of those same criminals. The King had sent another representative to fight and bring the band in to answer for their crimes. But he too was killed, and so now the King burned with thoughts of revenge.
Lord Darius Cutler, a nobleman of one of the highest ranks, had been sent in order to find the guilty party once and for all and execute them to satisfy the King’s thirst. That was the man outside whose fort Eamon Wilson waited in the shadows. It was too damning, for Eamon’s brother Sean had been the man who killed the second proxy. He would now be hunted unless Eamon did something about it. Thoughts of all the wealth stolen from the King’s purse as he committed the killing did nothing to dampen his desire to plan for the man’s demise.
Eamon was growing impatient with waiting. He was about to take his leave, get a message to the boy to think of another time, and make his way back to his men when he heard light, quick footsteps coming down the passage. Eamon tensed, slowly removing his sword from his scabbard, but then he saw the outline of the boy, lit dimly by torchlight, enter his vision. “Eamon!” the boy whispered, and Eamon took the boy’s arm and yanked at it, pulling him into a darker passage.
“Boy! Dinnae be a fool! We must keep our voices low and our forms out of light. Ye are late! I have been waiting for ages!”
Siren of the Highlands: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance (Highlanders of Cherrythorn) Page 24