by Julia London
“And just what do ye mean by that?” Liam demanded.
Griffin rolled his eyes. “Just as I said, Liam. Ye never saw this as anything but another military mission! Ye went storming into London with the intent of taking prisoners and overthrowing the whole ton. A mission like this requires delicate handling, a little finesse, if ye will. No’ running roughshod over the whole populace.”
“Well, Griffin, if ye’re so knowledgeable about it, then, why do ye stand here? Go to London and retrieve the bloody beastie yerself!” Liam had said irritably, and moved to turn away, but froze, a light dawning on his face. In fact, a light dawned on everyone’s face, and they looked at one another questioningly.
A smile slowly spread across Griffin’s lips.
“We’ve no money,” Aila quickly warned him.
“I’ll take a loan from the Douglas. He’ll no’ mind it if Mared asks him.”
“Aiee, I’ll do no such thing!” Mared cried, horrified.
“Aye, ye will,” said Carson sternly, and held up his hand to her before her rant could begin.
“But how will ye find the beastie? At least when Liam went, we knew who had it. Now all we have is a name, naugh’ more,” said Aila, unconvinced.
“Ach, Mother, how difficult could it be to find one Lady Battenkirk?” Griffin asked.
“As if ye’ve ever been to London,” Mared scoffed. “There could very well be a thousand Battenkirks if there’s one! What, will ye hunt down each of them, then?”
“Ah…I beg your pardon, but if I might,” Ellie politely interjected. Still in high dudgeon over her crime, all five Lockhart heads whipped around at once in her direction, frowning. Ellie took a small step back in surprise. “Ahem. Um…I just thought…I mean to say that I did live most of my life in London, and while I am not personally acquainted with Lady Battenkirk, I know her sort of lady, and I have several ideas as to where one might locate her.”
“Mother knows where all the shops and markets and parks are, too,” Natalie casually reported from her perch near the window.
They peered imperiously at Ellie, then curiously at Natalie. Ellie gulped at their intense gazes and said anxiously, “I, ah…I think I can help you find it.”
It took a moment or two, but Griffin was the first to break into a warm smile. “Ah, Liam, ye couldna have chosen better had I chosen her for ye, which, of course, I was determined to do if we were to ever see ye married,” he said, walking toward Ellie with open arms.
“Do ye see, then?” Mared demanded to no one in particular. “I was right about her, but ye will no’ listen to me, no!” she insisted, following Griffin.
“I never doubted it, lass, no’ for a moment,” said Carson, standing and holding out his arm to Aila.
“Well, I certainly never doubted she was perfect for our family,” Aila said, sniffing indignantly. “Did I no’ say that the lass was quite a bright spot at Talla Dileas?”
And as they took their turns, welcoming Ellie and Nattie into the family, Liam watched, feeling positively barmy with all the love burgeoning in his heart for the people in this room. When his father asked Ellie had she really stolen the beastie from him, she instantly answered that it was true, but that since the beastie was English, it had slipped through her fingers.
Liam glanced heavenward with a smile and winked. “Aye, sir, ye have me word. I’ll no’ let her out of me sight. Or me heart.”
The Lockharts eagerly turned their attention to crafting yet another plot to kidnap the beastie, quickly becoming engrossed in their arguing (as they were wont to do) about how exactly to go about it. When the question arose how one might find Lady Battenkirk in all of London, they turned expectantly to Ellie. Only Ellie wasn’t there. Neither was Nattie. Or Liam, for that matter.
On a hunch, Mared walked to the windows and looked out; she laughed at what she saw and gestured for her mother to join her. Griffin, Aila, and Carson came to the window overlooking what had once been a bailey, but was now a sweeping lawn between crumbling stone walls. And in that old bailey walked Liam and Ellie, hand in hand with Nattie between them. They strolled leisurely toward the loch, their smiling gazes intent on one another, while Nattie alternately skipped and swung from their hands, her golden hair shining in the afternoon sun, her small cloak dragging the grass behind her.
The lass looked, Mared remarked, just like a princess.