The Highlander’s Tempting Touch – Extended Epilogue
Six months later…
Spring was coming. The weather was growing warmer with every passing day. In other times, Niamh might have enjoyed it. As it was…
Her belly was swollen with child, her feet hurt, and everything seemed to either make her want to eat, want to use the chamber pot, or want to vomit. She’d been assured by all the women of the clan that it was the way of things, but it made the experience no easier for her to bear. And she still had two or three more months before the bairn was expected to be born.
According to Catriona, the bairn was well, and Niamh was doing well with the carrying. Niamh knew the healer would tell her if anything was wrong. She also knew that nothing would be. Sorcha’s potion was meant to assure her of that, and so far, it had worked as intended.
None of that knowledge did anything to ease her worries, or her uncertainties. For all that she was certain that there was nothing to fear, she couldn’t help but be uneasy. The habits and fears of a lifetime remained.
Strong arms circled about her shoulders, mindful of her burden, and enveloped her in the scent of leather and metal and ink. Niamh sighed and leaned back against Alistair’s strong chest. “Is the work goin’ well?”
“Aye. Ewan says things are progressing well among the former MacTavish council. ‘Tis tense, and will be fer some time, but they’re grateful tae him fer getting them through the winter, and ‘tis enough fer now. Soon, they’ll be too busy with spring planting tae get intae any trouble. He also says his second in command, Devlin, is settling in well.” Alistair bent to press a kiss to the top of her head.
He’d become much more demonstrative since the curse was broken. And much more perceptive, as his next words proved. “What is it that’s troublin’ ye, beloved? Surely there’s naught wrong with the bairn?” His hand moved to her stomach.
“Naething wrong with the bairn. ‘Tis healthy, as we kent it would be, with Sorcha’s gift. ‘Tis… ‘tis me own foolishness mostly…” She hesitated.
“’Tis nae foolish if ‘tis causing ye grief. What is it? Dae ye wish me tae send fer yer faither?”
She shook her head. “He will come soon, he said. And after the birth, so he isnae in the way and distracting us or the healers. He fears there may be some who bear him ill will even now.”
“Then what?”
She hesitated a moment longer. “’Tis… ye’ll nae like it.”
“I’d nae like tryin’ tae tame wild moor ponies in naught but a kilt either, but I’d dae it if ye asked.” Niamh giggled, her heart lightening a bit despite her fears at the absurd image. “Ask me, beloved. Tell me what ye need.”
“Me friend. Me childhood friend. Grace.” She felt Alistair stiffen, and looked up at him with pleading eyes. “I ken ye dinnae like that she’s English. I ken ye dinnae trust her, and I understand why. But she’s the closest thing tae a sister I ever had, and the idea o’ doin this, o’ having me first child without her… I cannae. Even though I ken ‘twill all be well, I want her with me.”
Alistair heaved a sigh. “Ye’re right. I dinnae like it. But, if it means so much tae ye, I can live with it. I suppose one little slip o’ an English lass cannae be too much trouble.”
Naimh felt something inside her uncoil with relief, and she closed her eyes as she leaned into his embrace once more. “Thank ye. Then… ye’ll go find her? A messenger might nae be enough tae convince her tae come. She’s had… there have been… difficulties.”
Grace’s uncle had tried to trick her with letters and messages before, at least once.
“Nae. I’ll nae go, nae with ye so close tae yer time.”
Niamh’s eyes flew open again, a flash of dismay going through her.
“But, she kens ye, and she’d nae go with someone she didnae ken.”
“She might ken me, but I doubt she remembers me with any fondness, given I threatened her.” Alistair shook his head. “Besides, me point still stands, love. I’ll nae leave ye alone when ye’re so close tae time. I promised I’d never leave ye alone, and I’ll certainly nae be breakin’ that promise at the very time ye need me tae keep it the most.”
“But then… who…?”
Alistair’s brow furrowed in thought, and one hand stroked her hair as he considered. Finally, he sighed again. “’Tis nae the best solution, but I’ll see if Ewan will go. He looks enough like me that yer friend should see the resemblance, and I can tell him words from ye that she might recognize. ‘Twill give him a chance tae see if this Devlin lad he’s training as second-in-command is truly up tae the task.”
“But… he is laird…”
“He’s nae officially laird until the Summer Highland Gathering. And this way, if his claim isnae approved, he can be sure o’ leaving someone who kens something o’ how tae run the clan properly in the leadership.”
“If ye’re sure…”
“I’m nae, but tis the best option we have.” He kissed her again, this time bending to catch her lips, then rose to his full height. “Dinnae fret.”
With a final smile and a quick embrace, Alistair turned and went in search of his brother, leaving Niamh to return to her thoughts, which were just a little bit lighter than before.
Alistair had never lied to her, not since that first meeting. If he said he would see that Grace was sent for, then he would. If all went well, she would see her dear friend soon.
And with Grace by her side, not even the thought of childbirth would trouble her anymore.
***
Alistair found his brother still in the study, working over reports. He was using Alistair’s system to determine how well his own work was progressing, and by the frown on his face, he wasn’t sure of the result. “Ewan. Tak’ a break and speak with me a while.”
With a soft exhalation of relief, his brother abandoned the reports and joined him at the table. “’Tis nae so easy as it looks, being a laird.”
“Nay. But at least ye’ve found a capable second, and ye said yer steward doesnae care that he served a different laird a year ago, so long as the castle is kept functioning.”
Ewan nodded. “Aye. ‘Tis still difficult.”
“If ye’re feelin’ overwhelmed, ‘tis all right tae take some time fer yerself.” Alistair said the words with all the casualness he could manage, but Ewan immediately gave him a sideways look.
“What is it yer plannin tae ask o’ me?” His brother shook his head at Alistair’s attempted look of confusion. “I ken ye too well. Ye only use that tone when ye have a favor tae ask that ye think I’ll nae want tae dae.”
Alistair grimaced. “Aye. I dae. And if we’re bein’ fair, ‘tis one I’d nae like under any circumstances. But Niamh asked me, so…”
“So ye cannae refuse yer lovely wife, especially now.” Ewan gave a soft laugh. “Well enough. Ye ken I’ll dae anything I can fer ye.”
“Ye may regret those words.” Alistair took a deep breath, then plunged ahead before he could give in to the temptation to ‘forget’ what the favor was. “Niamh had a friend, her neighbor, whom she dearly loved. They didnae get tae say a proper farewell, which was me fault, but they’re close as ye and I and Catriona ever were, tae hear Niamh tell it, despite the lack o’ any blood tie between them.”
“And yer wife wants her beloved friend tae be here fer the birth, and afore then if possible.” Ewan nodded. “That shouldnae be too difficult. Ye’ve only tae tell me how tae find her.”
Alistair winced, knowing his brother wouldn’t like the next words. “Her name is Grace. Grace Lancaster, o’ the Lancaster English lairds who share the Lowland border with the Cameron Clan.”
Ewan stiffened, every trace of mirth vanishing from his expression. “An English wench?”
“Dinnae call her a wench, at least nae in Niamh’s hearing.” Alistair shook his head. “I ken ye dinnae like it. Nae more dae I. But ‘tis fer Niamh’s sake, I ken she loves the girl dearly. I saw that much when I encountered them at the Equinox Festival last year. I’d go meself, but I swore never tae leave her alone when she might be in need o’ me.”
“And she’s heavy with child, and could give birth soon, afore ye might return if there’s any trouble, or the bairn comes early.” Ewan scowled.
“If ye dinnae wish tae dae it, I’ll nae fault ye. I’ll find someone else.”
After a moment, Ewan shook his head. “Nae. I’ll go. There’s few enough who would be able tae tolerate fulfilling the request, and too many who might pretend the friend had scorned Niamh, or that she was…” He trailed off. “They’d try tae break the tie between them, never mind how it might harm her.” He shrugged, a rueful grimace on his face. “At least, I’ll have ye on me mind tae keep me from bein’ too rash. Me loyalty tae ye and me honor both.”
Alistair exhaled in relief. “Thank ye, braither. I didnae ken who else tae send.”
“Catriona’s husband, with a warning in his ear from his wife, if ye had tae. She’d move heaven earth and underhill fer Niamh, especially now.” Ewan grinned sardonically, then rose and stretched until his shoulders cracked. “Well, seems I’d best be writin’ Devlin and me steward a letter tae tell them I’ll be delayed. Though if ye dinnae mind, I think I’ll say I’m seeking alliance with me wife-by-marriage’s father, rather than the truth.”
“I dinnae mind.” Alistair nodded. “’Tis a wise precaution.”
“How soon am I tae start?” Ewan moved to the desk and rummaged for a clean piece of paper.
“As soon as ye can.” Alistair answered. He offered Ewan a sardonic smile of his own. “The sooner ‘tis done, the sooner we can wash the taste of irritation out o’ our mouths, and think o’ other things.”
“Aye, like farmers feuding over a half-acre o’ rocky soil as if ‘tis made o’ gold, which sounds far more interesting than it did a few moments ago.” Ewan’s voice was low with a hint of a snarl, but he was already writing his letter. “Best get me a description of the lass, and some way o’ making sure she kens I’m really from yer lady. She might have her kinfolk attempt tae murder me, elsewise.”
Alistair heaved out a breath of relief and went to ask Niamh for words that Ewan could use to identify himself as Niamh’s friend.
He was glad that Ewan was willing to go. He was equally glad that he was not going. The idea of escorting an English lass through the Highlands made his stomach churn.
However, for the sake of his love and the child who had captured his heart, he was willing to endure far more than the presence of an English woman.
For Niamh, he could and would do anything she asked. It was just that simple.
The End.
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