Page 38 of His Runaway Bride

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Page 38 of His Runaway Bride

They both dissolved into laughter at the absurd image, the tension of the past few days finally melting away completely.Whatever the future held for Clan Ferguson, it certainly wouldn't involve the Mad MacKay Witch.

"Perhaps we should look for someone else," Lileas said finally, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Aye, perhaps we should," Ewan agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head."But not tonight.Tonight, I just want to hold my wife and be grateful she's safe in my arms."

"I love ye, Ewan MacNeil," she whispered against his chest.

"And I love ye, Lileas MacNeil.My stubborn, clever, generous-hearted wife."

As they settled into comfortable silence, both were content to simply exist in this moment of peace and happiness.Whatever challenges lay ahead, it could wait until tomorrow.

For now, they had each other, and that was enough.

***










Epilogue: Five Years Later

The sound of bairns'laughter rang through the stone corridors of MacNeil Keep as Lileas hurried about their chambers, trying to locate her eldest son's wooden sword whilst braiding holly into her hair for the Christmas feast.

"Mama, where's my sword?"five-year-old Alasdair called from beneath their great bed, where he appeared to be hunting through the rushes like a wee warrior on campaign.

"Try looking where ye last wielded it, lad," Lileas replied, though she was already searching the chamber.After five years of motherhood, she had yet to invent a contraption that could find lost playthings.

Four-year-old Finlay tottered past wearing one of his father's leather belts cinched around his small frame, the end trailing behind him like a tail."I'm Papa!"he declared with great pride, as if the overlarge belt had somehow transformed him into the laird himself.

"Aye, ye've the look of him right enough," Lileas agreed with a smile, catching the belt before he could tumble over it."But perhaps we should find yer tunic first."

The chamber door swung open and Ewan entered, baby Flora nestled safely in his arms.The bairn was swaddled in wool dyed MacNeil green, her dark hair crowned with a tiny circlet of winter berries that made her look like a Highland faerie princess.

"The Fergusons have arrived and are in the hall with Connor's brood," Ewan announced, then paused to survey the disorder around him."Should I ask why our lad is beneath the bed?"

"Lost sword," Lileas replied.

"Found it!"Alasdair emerged in triumph, brandishing the wooden blade above his head before promptly losing his footing and colliding with his father's legs.

Ewan steadied himself whilst keeping hold of baby Flora, who cooed happily at the commotion."Easy there, young warrior."