He smiled softly, toying with the black strand in her red hair. “I seem to remember a brave lass declarin’ to all an’ sundry that she was to marry me,” Alexander told her. “Do ye recall such a thing?”
Cicilia looked at him for a moment, and the love in her eyes almost brought Alexander to tears again. This was it. This was happiness.
This was home.
“Well,” Cicilia said finally. “If the Laird o’ Gallagher wants to wed, I would nae dream o’ tellin’ him he couldn’ae. But o’ course, I’d expect him to propose properly.”
Alexander felt a bubble of laughter in his throat. So happy, so carefree. “Aye? An’ how would he say such a thing when he dinnae even ken that his love would be awake today?”
“Easily enough,” Cicilia countered. “After all, this love, whoever she is, would nae need the frills an’ pomp. She would nae wish for a fancy luckenbooth or flowers or any other gift. She would just want his heart, every bit o’ it, an’ to hear it in his words to ken that it was for sure what he wanted, as well.”
How could ye ever doubt?
But he nodded and gestured. She seemed to get the meaning and moved over in the bed to let him lay down next to her. He gently put his arms around her and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before speaking.
“Cicilia O’Donnel, ye’re an agent o’ chaos,” he told her in a gentle, humming whisper. “Ye’re the wildest creature I’ve never met. Yer hair drives me mad an’ yer eyes are like witchcraft. Yer wee siblings have more energy than I’ve ever had in me entire life, an’ yer stubbornness could topple kings if ye had half a mind to it. Ye’re frustratin’, an’ ye’d argue wi’ a stone wall if ye thought it looked at ye funny.”
She smiled faintly at the praise disguised as criticism, and he knew she understood. His heart beat faster as the words rose to his lips.
“I thought I’d lost ye, Cicilia. I never want to feel like that again. We’ll drive each other mad, but I cannae imagine the rest o’ me life without ye. Say ye’ll marry me an’ make me heart happier than I’ve ever been in me life. Say ye’ll be me wife,” he said.
She started to cry, though they seemed to be happy tears. “I suppose that’s proper enough,” she said with a tearful giggle. “Aye, Alexander. Aye, mo gràdh, me love, I will marry ye.”
His heart sang, and he swore he could hear music in his ears. He felt lighter than he had in many years, something close to complete for the first time since the death of his father. “Ye mean it?”
“I’ve never meant anythin’ more, me heart,” Cicilia told him. “I love ye. More than anythin’.”
He swallowed the hard lump in his throat and kissed her gently again, restraining himself as much as he could since she was still healing. “Well,” he muttered. “That’s awfie convenient.”
“Ye ken, I was thinkin’ the same thing,” Cicilia laughed and snuggled into his arms. After a moment, she said happily, “The future is lookin’ fairly bright for us both, aye?”
Yes, it was. It was as though Alexander had been living under a fog for most of his life, and now here was Cicilia, lifting it from him at last. She was the sun, clearing the dark clouds that had surrounded him so tightly he hadn’t even realized until it was almost too late.
But nae more. Now I can be the Laird an’ the husband I am meant to be.
Because he owed his people, too. Thomaes had ignited the flame with his twisted words and his money…but Alexander himself had set the kindling. His father would be saddened to see how distant he had been from his people, how locked up in his own pain. Indeed, if he hadn’t found Cicilia’s light, he may have been trapped in that darkness forever.
Nathair had tried to help, but how do you help someone be happy when they have forgotten what happiness is? Alexander had thrown himself into his duties to escape his pain. The pain of his parents’ death, the pain of Ilene’s abandonment. He’d done an excellent job in a sense, but he’d hidden his soul from his people.
That couldn’t happen now, though, for his soul was no longer only his own. Cicilia had patiently drawn it out from the dark corner where it had been chained, and their spirits were entwined together forever. She had brought joy back into his life, and he provided stability into her chaos.
“Ye ken, when me Maither an’ Faither were wed, there was a big fair the followin’ week. They loved each other so much that they dinnae think it was right that the weddin’ was limited to just them an’ the nobility.” Alexander smiled. “Every year, the Gallagher Fair drew in crowds from everywhere in the clan, an’ sometimes from over the borders as well.”
“I vaguely recall,” Cicilia admitted. “But nae in the last…well, since ye became Laird. I dinnae ken that’s what the fair was for, though.”
“Aye. It hurt too much, so I canceled it, for right or wrong,” Alexander admitted, looking a little embarrassed. “I was thinkin’, though, it’s past time that we reinstate it. Do ye think the people would like that?”
Cicilia’s eyes were bright. “Aye. I think the people would like that. I think they’ll be more than happy to give ye a second chance.”
“What makes ye say so?” Alexander asked, worried.
“Because I did,” said Cicilia, “An’ it’s the best decision I’ve ever made in me life.”
He smiled faintly. “So there’s hope, then?”
“Och, Alexander. Where there’s life, and where there’s love, there’s hope. An’ when we’re together, there’s nae shortage o’ either,” Cicilia promised him.
For the first time in so, so long, Alexander fully believed it.
Chapter 30
Veritas Aequitas
Truth and Justice
Catherine helped Cicilia to perfect the design of the gift she’d give on her wedding day and even loaned her the money to pay the goldsmith upfront. Cicilia would, of course, pay her back the second her own accounts were back in order, but it was nice to know that she needn’t worry for the moment.
They had just arrived back to the Castle, almost three weeks after Thomaes’s capture and incarceration. In that time, Jeanie, Alexander, Nathair, Cicilia, and the twins had all traveled together to the newly renovated O’Donnel farm.
It was beautiful. Just as it was before the fire. Me Daddy would have been thrilled.
The twins spent some time fawning over the pet pig they’d had to abandon shortly after it was purchased. Their delight when Alexander told them they could have a special sty built for him at the castle could be heard throughout the land.
He also insisted that, in place of a luckenbooth, he had a different gift for her—the gift of the rebuilt farmhouse around them.
I told him I’d pay for it meself as we’d planned, but I suppose bein’ a Laird means makin’ grand gestures where ye can.
And now they had returned to the Castle, the papers sorted to temporarily pass the farm into Jeanie’s parents’ hands. Catherine and her children were still there, and the Laird of Sinclair would be joining them soon to attend the wedding.
As Alice and Matthew enthusiastically greeted the twins, Catherine hurried over and hugged her brother tight. “So the weddin’ now, then?” she asked.
Alexander chuckled. “Ye’re relentless. Aye, the weddin’.”
Catherine cheered, then let go of Alexander and took both of Cicilia’s hands in her own. “Sister,” she said.
Cicilia laughed, her heart light as a feather. “To ye as well, Sister.”
Once everyone was settled, Catherine asked Cicilia to accompany her down to the village. She made it sound like it was just a light journey, but Cicilia knew the truth.
It was ready.
And so was she.
It was to be a double wedding. Jeanie and Cicilia insisted on it, and Alexander and Nathair were hardly going to argue. In less than a week, once the trial of the traitor Cunningham was over, Cicilia would be Alexander’s wife.
I still cannae fully understand how we got here, but I’ve never been so happy. Well, except for one thi
ng.
Alexander and Nathair hadn’t talked much about everything that had happened, something for which Alexander was grateful. His friend knew that Alexander needed his own time to process things, and he hadn’t even begun to tackle the revelation about his parents’ death.
It was the one dark spot on an otherwise almost unbearably joyful time, and Alexander knew he had to confront it sooner or later. Tomorrow, it would come out in his judgment when Thomaes tried to plead for his pathetic life—but Alexander owed his sister more than that.
It was Cicilia, his beautiful, precious Cicilia, who suggested that Alexander take Catherine for a meal on the castle grounds like they’d eaten when they were small. So now he sat by the little burn on a blanket, his sister eating her bread and cheese, and tried to find the words that may shatter her.
“Catherine,” he said hesitantly as he poured them both more wine. “I brought ye out here because I’ve got somethin’ to say.”
“Aye,” his sister said, sounding a little amused. “I figured that much out meself, Sandy. I hope ye were nae as reticent when ye were proposin’ to Cicilia.”
Her teasing just made it harder, but he smiled. Then, uncharacteristically, he took her hand. Catherine looked down at their joined hands in surprise.
“What is it, brother?” she asked in a much softer voice. “What do ye need to tell me?”
And so, he told her everything that Thomaes had admitted, and all of the details Cicilia had added from his earlier confession. He told her how Thomaes had used Alice’s birth as a way to be rid of their parents for good, and how the accident had been no accident at all.
When the story was over, Catherine was in floods of tears, but she embraced Alexander tightly. He broke down too, and the siblings hugged and cried.
Eventually, Catherine wiped her eyes and said, “Well, at least now we ken. At least now we can say farewell properly, eh?”
Alexander nodded, his own eyes red and itching. “Aye. Aye. At least now, they’ll finally get justice.”
Catherine kissed his cheek. “Our parents would be so proud o’ ye, Alexander MacKinnon,” she told him. “I’m proud o’ ye.”
Alexander’s heart stuttered in his chest, and his tears started anew, breaking him down and healing as they went.
The trial was a public affair. In fact, much of the Castle's business was now public. Alexander had told Cicilia that from now on, he intended to be more open, more welcoming, and clear. He would do it so rumors would never threaten his seat, his family, or his clan ever again.
It dragged on, with more and more testimony coming out of the woodwork as more and more clansmen came forward with stories of bribery and manipulation. Through it all, Thomaes sat there, his eyes fixed on Cicilia in the front row, glittering with hatred and rage.
He blames me for his capture. As if he dinnae do all o’ this to himself.
She had expected to feel torn, yet she felt more pity taking an old cow to the slaughter than she did for the evil man being condemned for his crimes. He had torn a family apart and tried to tear apart another. No matter what his sentence, Cicilia knew that seeing her sitting proudly with a smile and the Laird’s love would be a worse punishment.
The trial had to be adjourned for a whole day after the news of Thomaes’s involvement with the death of the previous Laird and his wife came to light. A mob formed outside of the trial room, this time against Thomaes rather than for him, baying for his blood.
An’ I’d love to have Alexander give it to him. But if I’m to help him rule here, that is nae how I’ll start our new legacy.
On the last day of the trial, Thomaes was allowed to speak. When he did, it was a spite-filled rant, declaring the whole clan a mockery.
“Aye, I did it. Everythin’ ye’ve accused me o’, an’ more,” Thomaes hissed. “I did it all, and I’d do it again. I’ve got plans in place ye will nae find for years. Decades. I’ve done things so vile they’ll be hauntin’ yer grandchildren.” He laughed coldly. “So good luck to ye, oh great Laird o’ Gallagher. Yer people are feckless, an’ ye’re a fool. When the whole clan collapses in flames, ye’ll have only yerself to blame.”
Cicilia felt her blood run cold at the threat, but Alexander just smiled faintly.
“Thank ye for yer testimony, Mr. Cunningham,” he said coolly. Then he stood and turned to the large gathered crowd. “Now, I ken I’ve nae been the Laird me faither was before me. I’ve done me best, but I was a grievin’ lad manipulated by a monster, an’ I let that turn me cold. I’ve looked after yer money without considerin’ yer person.”
Behind Cicilia, some of the villagers began to whisper to each other, but nobody spoke up.
“But nae longer,” Alexander continued. “Goin’ ahead, Clan Gallagher shall be a clan o’ equality. Every man’s opinion is worth as much as the next, an’ as yer Laird, it’s me duty to facilitate them, nae override them. As me first act o’ business in this matter, I turn the sentencin’ o’ Thomaes Cunningham over to yer capable hands.”
The whispers grew louder, mixed in with loud gasps and an animalistic cry of outrage from Thomaes.
Cicilia felt her heart thrum with pride and fear at once.
What’s he doin’? Is he sure about this?
But Alexander was totally calm as he said, “So? Yer choices are imprisonment, execution, or freedom. I leave it entirely to ye, me people. I trust ye, in the hopes that one day ye can trust me again.”
He’s so brave, an’ tryin’ so hard to make things right. I dinnae think I could love him more if I tried.
“Hang him!” shouted someone from behind Cicilia.
“Aye, let’s see him hang!” shouted another.
Soon, the whole crowd was calling for it. Eventually, Alexander held up a hand. As one, the group was covered with a blanket of silence, obeying and respecting their Laird fully, at long last.
“It will be done,” Alexander declared. “In truth, an’ for justice.”
Cheers erupted all around, then someone from the gathered group called out, “Hail Alexander MacKinnon, Laird o’ Gallagher! Fortune favors the bold!”
They all took it up as a chant, calling his name, praising him, and as Cicilia looked up at the man who would be her husband, she saw the shock in his face and tears in his eyes. This, at last, was the acceptance he’d spent all this time looking for. All Cicilia knew was that no matter what else she did in her life, helping him get to this point was an achievement above all else.
Afterward, Cicilia walked arm in arm with her betrothed through the gardens, enjoying the fresh night air. Thomaes’s execution date had been set for the morrow. The day after, at long last or so it felt, she and Alexander would be wed alongside Jeanie and Nathair.
“It’s a lovely night,” she commented, and he smiled at her.
“Lovelier because I have ye here to spend it wi’ me,” he told her.
She laughed and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Me brave an’ good Laird,” she said. “Ye did well today. I’m proud o’ ye.”
It was his turn to chuckle. “Och. Everybody keeps sayin’ that lately. If I’d have kent this was all it took to be praised, I might have acted out sooner.”
She swatted his arm, giggling. “So what now, Laird?”
“Well,” he said, touching her cheek and bringing her face up to kiss again. When he was done, he said, “Now we’ve got the small matter o’ a weddin’ to attend. Do ye think ye can make it?”
“Och, I dinnae ken,” Cicilia teased. “Do ye think I should?”
“I think ye’ll find that if ye do, Miss Cicilia, it might change yer life forever,” Alexander told her.
“Dinnae ye threaten me wi’ such goodness. Me wee farmer’s heart cannae take it,” Cicilia mock-scolded him. Then they were in each other's arms once more, kissing and loving and being together under the stars.
Chapter 31
Totus Tuus
Totally Yours
Alexander was helping Nathair to straighten the bow on the
front of his sark when there was a knock at the grooms’ door. Both of them looked at each other in askance, but neither seemed to know who it could possibly be.
“Who’s here?” Nathair called.
“It’s me,” came Catherine’s voice, and Alexander couldn’t help but smile to hear his sister, even though she was most definitely meant to be with the women now. “Cicilia sent me to talk to Sandy.”
Nathair grinned at him and opened the door, and Catherine stepped inside. “Ye’re lookin’ ravishin’, Catherine,” he told her. “But nae as bonny as me bride.”
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