“I do not mean to keep you guessing, Kenneth, but you must let me speak first, then, when you know all, I can answer that question. Now, will you let me explain?”
She stepped closer and took his hands in hers, not waiting for his answer.
“What I am about to tell you must remain a secret of my clan, regardless of what happens between us. Can you promise me you will not speak of what I’m about to tell you to anyone outside this clan? Not even Drostan.”
“What could be so—”
“I need your promise.”
“Of course. You have it.” A cold sweat beaded between his shoulder blades. What could require such an oath?
She began to tell him about the Guardians of the Targe; about how she was next in an ancient line of women who had been tasked by the auld ones to keep this way into Scotland safe from all who wished harm to the land and the people; about how her gift was one of healing and nurturing, as she had done with the calf, with Lily, and as she did with her garden.
“So you see why I cannot leave Dunlairig. This is where the Guardians draw their strength, where we are granted our gifts. This is where we are able to protect that which is in our care.”
He was still and quiet as all he knew of this singular woman suddenly made more sense.
“There is more,” she said. Her hands trembled in his.
“What more, love?”
She was silent for a moment, then looked up at him, capturing his gaze with hers.
“Tradition holds that the Guardian chooses her husband…and this is important, Kenneth, for even more than wedding with me, this will change your life forever. The Guardian’s husband becomes her Protector,” she emphasized the word, “and the chief of the clan.”
“Chief?”
“Aye. If we wed, you will, in time, become the MacAlpin. You will have to forsake your own clan name and take ours. You will protect not just the Guardian, me, you will protect our family, our clan. By marrying me, your brother becomes mine, and that makes him and his our family, as well. He can keep the MacGregor name for you.
“Do you understand what I am asking of you?” She gripped his hands hard now as she let him think it through.
“You are asking me to marry you?” he finally asked.
“I am. Have I not made that clear?”
“Not directly, no, only in possibilities and responsibilities.”
“You understand what that means?”
“I do. I understand that you are offering far more than I deserve—family, clan, a purpose, and a future with the woman I love.”
She stepped into the circle of his arms and beamed up at him.
“I love you with all my heart, Kenneth. All my heart. Will you marry me? Will you be my husband and the father of my children? Will you protect me and this clan? Will you give me your heart, as I give you mine?”
“I will. I do.” He kissed her sweetly, then lifted her into his arms and swung her around.
A whoop sounded from the top of the castle wall, along with laughter and clapping. Uilliam, Drostan, Lily, Elspet’s parents, and even Rab, along with most of the rest of the clan, were there celebrating with them.
Epilogue
Three years later…
“Wee Scotia is a beauty,” Drostan said to Elspet, as they sat beside each other enjoying a bit of sunshine in the bailey. She cuddled the newest member of the MacAlpin clan in her arms, tired from the sleep deprived nights of late, but happier than she had thought possible just a few years ago.
A joyful squeal echoed around them, followed by another, as Kenneth chased three year old Rowan, and their own two year old Jeanette, around the well, doing his best to act like an ogre determined to eat them. He capture Rowan and pretended to gnaw on her shoulder, drawing the most delicious round of belly laughs from the little lass.
“Me! Me!” Jeanette tugged her da’s plaid until he scooped up his fair-haired daughter and did the same to her, moving from one lass to the other as he carried them both over to the bench, leaving a trail of the lasses’ delighted giggles as he went.
He set them down, then collapsed beside his wife as the wee ones raced back to the well.
“I am not sure who will sleep better this night,” Drostan said, passing a mug of ale to Kenneth, “the wee lassies or you, my brother.”
“Me, I think,” Kenneth said, as he looped his arm around Elspet’s shoulders and pulled her and Scotia closer. “Unless this one,” he touched Scotia’s tiny chin, already showing signs of being set in the MacGregor tradition of stubbornness, despite her raven hair, “decides to keep us up all night again.”
“She will sleep better soon, or so I hope.” Elspet laid her head on her husband’s shoulder with a contented sigh. “She has been more difficult than Jeanette from the start, but I cannot help but love the bairn just as much as her sister and her cousin.”
Kenneth laughed and pulled her closer still.
As they all sat happily watching the cousins chase each other around the well, Elspet enjoyed the feel of her beloved husband’s embrace, the easy comfort they both shared with Drostan, and the joy that had come with stepping into the life she had always yearned for. She marveled at the transformation that Brighde had foretold, the transformation that had come to all of their lives, when the Summer Star had passed overhead, fulfilling their every wish.
More Guardians of the Targe
Series Bibliography
Highlander Betrayed
Highlander Avenged
Highlander Redeemed
About Laurin
Laurin writes bestselling and award-winning Scottish medieval romances and lives in southeastern Virginia. She was indoctrinated into her Scottish heritage at birth when her parents chose her oddly spelled name from a plethora of Scottish family names. At ten, Laurin attended her first MacGregor clan gathering with her grandparents, and her first ceilidh (kay-lee), a Scottish party, where she danced to the bagpipes with the hereditary chieftain of the clan. At eleven, she visited Scotland for the first time and it has inhabited her imagination ever since.
For more information:
www.laurinwittig.com
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The Summer Star: One Legend, Three Enchanting Novellas (Legends of Scotland Book 2) Page 34