“Will you dance with me?” he asked, tucking her against his side.
“I will always dance with you,” Anna said.
Epilogue
All, everything that I understand,
I understand only because I love.
Leo Tolstoy
War and Peace
The dress was perfect, more silver than white, the Leavers lace so delicate the stitching in the intricate hawthorn pattern was barely visible. From a simple neckline, the bodice hugged her figure then fanned out to a graceful skirt with a sweeping train. Peering into the oval mirror in the master bedroom at Inverlochlarig House, Anna still wondered whether she had picked the dress because it reminded her of the image she had seen in the loch a year ago at the Beltane Sighting, or whether the loch had simply shown her a snapshot of a day a year into the future.
She hadn’t expected anything when she’d leaned over the water to wash her face with Elspeth beside her and at least a hundred other people crowded along the water’s edge. Reporters had milled around, hoping for a glimpse of Connal and Moira, and the dawn had been cold and clear, fog curling up off the water.
“Are you ready?” Elspeth had asked her.
Anna had been a little nervous given what Connal had told her. What if she saw someone other than Connal? Not that she had believed in the Sighting. Not completely. But she had wanted to believe.
The top of the sun, yellow-orange as an egg yolk, had peered over the Highland hills. Everyone bent at once, hands plunging into the loch, faces stinging as they brought the water to their cheeks. Anna’s breath blew a haze into the air, and water dripped from between her fingers. She hadn’t seen anything when she bent down, nothing except her own reflection and those of the people all around her. But as she pulled her hands away from her eyes, the drops of water that fell back into the loch rippled out as smoothly as if she stood there all by herself, and in the water, she had seen Connal and Moira on the peninsula with her, Connal in his kilt, smiling at her with love in his eyes, and Moira in a glittering silver dress holding a basket of lacy hawthorn petals.
The dress Anna has been wearing was this one, exact down to the last detail, that she and Connal had found on a mannequin in a bridal store window on a whirlwind trip to Edinburgh just four months ago. How could the loch have shown her that? Maybe it was wishful thinking, Anna admitted as she stood looking in the mirror. Maybe the dress was only similar. Perhaps she would never know for certain, but deep down, she believed.
“You’re so beautiful, love, you hurt my heart,” Elspeth said, coming up behind her. “Have I ever told you how happy I am that I flimflammed you into coming for the festival?”
Anna turned and kissed Elspeth on the cheek. “Many times, but that was the best story you’ve ever told.”
A knock sounded on the door to the corridor, and they both turned a little warily. “We’re all ready,” Anna’s sister Margaret called. “How are you doing?”
“Coming now,” Anna said.
“Just one second.” Elspeth pulled out an embroidered handkerchief and unwrapped it to reveal a pair of sapphire earrings that were a near match to the necklace that Connal had given Anna earlier, the blue the same color as the loch, the same color as Connal’s eyes. “These were your grandmother’s earrings,” Elspeth said. “I know Ailsa already gave you her own bracelet as something old, but I wanted to give you something, too. I hope that’s okay. Your grandmother would have loved you so much, so very much. As I do.”
Anna wrapped her arms around Elspeth fiercely. All her life, Elspeth had been the mother Anna had wanted, the mother she wished she had. But Julian had been right. Parents did the best they could. Anna’s own mother was down on the peninsula with the other wedding guests, sitting beside Katharine and Henry, because there had been no keeping those two away. You got the family you were dealt, Anna had decided, and you had to make the best of it. If you were lucky, you found an Elspeth along the way as she had, and that became the family you really needed.
“You are the best person in the world, Aunt Elspeth,” she whispered. “I’m so happy you’re a flimflam artist. Have I ever told you that?”
“Just consider me your fairy godmother, my girl. Wishes and white lies have never been that far apart.”
Smiling, they followed Margaret downstairs, past the great room already set up for the Beltane Ball that would double as a wedding reception later, and through the foyer to where Moira waited in her sparkling silver dress beside Anna’s father. His gaze drifted between her and Elspeth while they walked toward him, as if he didn’t know where to look. Anna couldn’t decide if she wanted to hug him or slap him and tell him to go get a divorce already instead of spending more years being miserable. Except that wouldn’t solve the problem. If he divorced Ailsa, Elspeth would never take him.
Anna stooped to kiss Moira’s cheek. “You look lovely, sweetheart.”
“So do you,” Moira said, smiling the crooked half-smile that lit her eyes. “We’re like fairy princesses, aren’t we?”
Anna’s father smiled down at both of them. “Yes, you are.” Still tall and handsome and kind after all these years in an unhappy marriage, his hair gray and his face lined with both strain and laughter, he smiled down at Anna. “You look happy enough to float away.”
Anna hugged him harder. “I wish you could be as happy as I am.”
“You’re making me the happiest father in the world by being happy yourself. That’s all any parent could ask for.” Swiftly, almost gruffly, Anna’s father stooped to kiss her cheek.
Down by the loch, the first notes of “Braes of Balquhidder” sounded from the bagpipes: Ian Camm MacGregor and Rory MacLaren playing together, Rory because he was still trying to make amends for his sister Erica, and Ian Camm because there couldn’t be a MacGregor wedding in the glen without a MacGregor piper. Beyond the gates, a crowd of festival-goers and tabloid reporters jockeyed for position, all trying to catch a glimpse. There were even boats bobbing out on the water with camera lenses flashing in the sunlight, and a helicopter hovering overhead making the water choppy on the loch. Anna didn’t care. Nothing was going to spoil the day.
Moira picked up the small silver basket of hawthorn petals and went down the front stairs sprinkling them along the path. Elspeth and Margaret fell in behind her, walking the long path toward the peninsula where rows of chairs were set up for the wedding guests and where Connal and the minister waited.
Anna’s father handed Anna the bouquet of lacy white hawthorn wound through with silk ribbons in deep blue and palest green.
The “Braes of Balquhidder” changed to “Highland Cathedral” with the drums and flutes of the band chiming in. On her father’s arm, Anna walked slowly toward the peninsula where, a year ago, she had glimpsed her future. Now that future stood there waiting for her, looking exactly like the image that she had seen reflected in the water during the Sighting: Connal in his kilt with the MacGregor sash on his shoulder, and Moira in her glittering silver dress. Anna’s mother and Katharine, Henry, Brando, JoAnne, Flora and Duncan, Kirsty and Angus, Davy Griggs and his wife, and all the other people from the village were also there with them, smiling.
“I love you, Anna,” Connal whispered, his heart in his eyes and the light dancing around him like magic as he took Anna’s hand with their family and friends looking on. Moira came to help him raise the thin veil from Anna’s face, and when he slipped the ring on her finger, Anna felt the click in the fabric of the world in every cell within her body.
The wedding vows they had written for each other were meaningful and heartfelt, but in all those words there were only seven that truly mattered: I will love you forever and always.
Those seven words mended hearts and reshaped lives, Anna thought, looking around at her big, messy family, old and new alike. She’d been lucky enough to find love, and that in its many forms was what made life worth living.
Author’s Note
Dear Reader,
I was driving in the H
ighlands of Scotland years ago and came across a rusting black-and-white road sign pointing to Rob Roy MacGregor’s grave. Now, being a sucker for Scottish history, Sir Walter Scott, and Liam Neeson in a kilt (not necessarily in that order), I had to take the detour. Right? No choice at all. And I fell utterly in love with the Balquhidder Glen.
The location itself was beautiful, of course, in that wild way of Scottish glens with steep-sided, heather-covered braes and lochs glittering silver beneath an endless sky. But it also had an aura of something magical.
In addition to the grave where Rob Roy, a “MacGregor Despite Them,” lies buried beside his wife and two of his sons, the glen houses the ruin of an old stone church where a soberly Presbyterian minister, the Reverend Robert Kirk, preached in the seventeenth century. While engaged in said preaching, he also reportedly wandered into an enchanted world. Years later, according to legend, instead of dying, he was taken back to that Otherworld to become the chaplain to the Fairy Queen.
As if that wouldn’t have been enough to fire my imagination, I also had an encounter with a flock of meandering sheep, a lonely horse bit the side mirror of my rental car when I tried to stop petting him, and a shaggy Highland bull charged over to lick my camera lens while I was trying to take his picture. (I have the photo of his tongue somewhere, I swear.) Add to that a lovely meal and a passionate conversation with a Scottish nationalist, and it was a day I’ve never forgotten.
I always knew I would write about the glen someday. Of course, it’s changed some since I visited that first time. And because it has changed, and because my story is fiction which has resulted in some alterations to the landscape, while I’m keeping much of its history and the names of the clans who’ve traditionally resided there, I am calling it Balwhither instead of Balquhidder. For what it’s worth, Balwhither is how you pronounce the name anyway, and it’s also how Robert Louis Stephenson wrote about it in his books.
If you’ve been to Balquhidder, you’ll find yourself a little disoriented. The people, places, and events that populate my glen are fictitious, and even the historical events and figures, actual geography, and landmark businesses in the glen are fictionalized. But I hope I’ve captured the beauty of the place, and I hope it inspires my readers to go and see it for themselves.
In case you’re sad to leave the charm of small-town life in a magical setting behind when this story is over, keep an eye out for additional free-standing books in the Celtic Legends series centered on Celtic legends and holidays. And if you like Scottish food, try the recipes included here. Maybe they’ll turn out well enough at your house to help persuade your own man to try a kilt!
Anyway, please enjoy!
Happy reading,
Martina
Apple Butterscotch Pie
As with most things historically Scottish, the origin of the term butterscotch is shrouded in controversy and heavily Anglicized through a long history of war, destruction of records, and the suppression of Scots Gaelic in favor of English.
The Keillers of Dundee, manufacturers of the famous Dundee Orange Marmalade, may have made butterscotch confectionary as far back as 1797. The first literary reference comes from Nottingham in 1847, and a nineteenth century article in The Doncaster Archives claimed that a sweet-maker there was making “butter-scotch” as early as 1817. This makes sense if the recipe was originally from Scotland and moving southward. Other sources argue that the “scotch” part of the word comes from “scorching” the syrup, or “scoring” the sweets as they cool for easier breaking.
Whatever the origin of the word, the brown sugar and butter caramelize deliciously over the apples in the baking. Add a dollop of plum jam and a meringue topping, and this mouth-watering dessert will quickly become a favorite for any romantic evening.
For Filling
Ingredients:
Basic pastry crust (see recipe or store-bought)
4-6 cups favorite pie apples
1/2 cup plus one tbsp granulated sugar
1/3 cup Demerara sugar (light brown)
2 tbsp plum jam
2 tbsp flour
2 tbsp cream
1 egg
2 egg whites
pinch of salt
Step-by-Step:
Line a 9-inch fluted metal flan tin with pastry dough.
Preheat oven to 425°F
Peel, core, and slice the apples thin. Layer until they fill the crust completely.
In a small bowl, beat the whole egg with one tablespoon of cream.
In a separate bowl, mix brown sugar, flour, and salt.
Combine wet mixture with dry.
Spread combined ingredients over the apples in the tin and bake at 425°F for ten minutes.
Reduce oven temp to 350°F and bake for 20 additional minutes or until the apples are soft.
In a clean, dry bowl, whip egg whites at medium-speed with an electric mixer until firm peaks form. Beating constantly, add granulated sugar to form a smooth, thick, and glossy meringue.
Spread plum jam over the apples.
Cover with meringue topping and use the flat side of a knife to swirl the meringue into pretty peaks.
Bake at 350°F for 15-25 minutes or so until the meringue is lightly golden. Chill and serve cold.
For Pie Crust
Ingredients:
1 cup all-purpose flour
8 tbsp unsalted butter
2 tbsp caster (fine-granulated) sugar
1 egg yolk
1 tbsp iced water
1 tbsp butter
Pastry weights or 1 cup dried beans or rice
Step-by-Step:
If pre-baking, preheat oven to 350°F.
Using a pastry brush, coat a 9-inch pan with melted butter.
Sift the flour into a large bowl and crumble in the butter. Combine butter and flour until the mixture forms large crumbs.
Add the sugar, egg yolk, and water. Stir to form a fine, soft dough.
Press the dough into a ball, then roll it out between two sheets of plastic wrap, until it is 1/8-inch thick, turning frequently to get a round shape big enough to cover the base and sides of your pan.
Remove only one side of the plastic wrap and gently ease the pastry into the tin. Press the plastic wrap coated side firmly into the bottom and flutes of the tin, then trim off the excess at the top.
Remove wrap and vent pastry with a fork. Refrigerate 20 minutes.
If pre-baking, line the crust with wax paper, distribute weights, rice, or beans evenly on top, and bake for 35 minutes.
Chicken Bonnie Prince Charlie
Despite a rocky history with the Stewart kings since James I took away their right to officially use the name MacGregor, the MacGregors of Balwhither were staunch Jacobites, supporting every rebellion from 1689 to the last failed attempt to put Bonnie Prince Charlie on the throne. The recipe for the Drambuie liqueur used in this mouth-watering recipe was reportedly given to the McKinnon family of Skye by the Prince when they gave him sanctuary following the disastrous defeat at the Battle of Culloden.
Ingredients:
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
4 apples (semi-sweet)
1/2 cup chicken stock
1 cup heavy cream
6 tbsp unsalted butter
1/3 cup flaked almonds
4 tbsp Drambuie liqueur
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 pinch of pepper
pinch of salt
Step-by-Step:
Rinse chicken, pat dry, and pound until even thickness with the flat side of a frying pan.
Season chicken with salt and pepper and dredge in flour.
In a large skillet over medium high heat, melt 3 tablespoons of butter and heat until it begins to sizzle.
Add chicken, reduce heat to medium, and lightly brown on both sides.
Sprinkle with 2 tablespoons of Drambuie and chicken stock, cover, reduce to low, and cook for 10 minutes without lifting lid.
Core, peel, and thickly slice the apples. Me
lt 3 tablespoons of butter on low and cook apples until soft.
Turn heat off on chicken, but do not move from burner. Leave chicken to sit 10 additional minutes in pan without lifting the lid.
Remove chicken from pan to serving dish and warm in oven.
Add 2 tablespoons of Drambuie to pan drippings and gradually stir in cream. Turn burner to medium and heat, removing before sauce comes to a boil.
Cover chicken with sauce, sprinkle with almonds, and top with softened apples.
Serves four.
Fruited Gingerbread
Nothing is as comfortingly soul-soothing as gingerbread. It smells like Christmas and the best memories of home and family. Add dried fruit before baking and a generous dollop of freshly whipped cream before serving, and it’s an instant I-love-you for any occasion.
Ingredients:
3 cups flour
1 cup brown sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
3 tsp ground ginger
2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp allspice
1 tsp orange zest
1 tsp orange extract
pinch of salt
1/2 cup butter
2 eggs
1 cup molasses
Lake of Destiny Page 23