A Love Unveiled

Epilogue

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                She was Lady Macaulay-wife to the Fallon ‘The Fury’. She felt that dull ache within her chest, reminding her all too well of a certain McLeod blade but the daunting notion brought naught but comfort. McLeod was a threat no more.

                Her smile broadened as she smoothed a hand over her budding belly to the nestled babe within. Her eyes rose to the cerulean sky and watched as white clouds drifted lazily by and she would forever remember the day that narrowing path brought her Norman to her.

                “Alana!” she resisted a grin as Nettie came running, her voice strained with disapproval. “What are you doing?” she demanded once she reached Alana.

                Alana’s eyes swept Linden countryside and all its inhabitants working tediously in rebuilding the village. There was naught on this day that could keep her at bay, even her sweet cousin’s bantering.

                Her smile widened as her eyes swept the many faces around her. Her father would be proud. She had done her people by right. She spied sweet, old Agatha passing pitchers of water to the many laborers straining vigorously beneath the afternoon sun, among these laborers she spied Ivan winking playfully at the lass Kinsley as she passed him with a softening stare, whilst Gavin fell in at his side, nudging his beguiled friend jerkily with a hint of a grin before finding Nettie with all the love in his eyes.

                Her gaze traveled further until finding the imposing stance of Ranulf. He moved about in his usual loner manner, moving timber too and from.

It was than that Alana spied the child, Kinsley’s wee sister, hastening to catch up with the other children.

                The little girl took a hard fall, landing roughly to her knees. Alana stiffened, prepared to aid the small child but was taken aback and stilled with awe as the scarred warrior knelt before the teary child. Alana watched in wonder as the big warrior, appearing massive aside the little girl, gently whispered words of something soothing to ease the child’s hurt. The child smiled despite her pain and Ranulf righted her easily to her feet before playfully tapping the bridge of her nose. The tiny girl, undaunted by Ranulf’s warrior face, giggled delightfully before fleeing in the direction of her playmates.

                Alana continued to watch the scarred warrior as he gathered to his massive height, such an impeccable force, yet capable of easing a child’s hurt.

                They caught eyes and after a moment, he tilted his head with a silent smile before returning to his labor.

                “Alana-“ Nettie interjected her musings, “-have you a care for the babe?” she demanded.

                “I cannot abide my stifling chambers a moment longer.”

                Her eyes alight with mirth moved continuously over the many faces until settling on one golden head in particular working mercifully alongside his warriors.

                Her husband.

                As if aware of her gaze, Fallon straightened and turned. His amber eyes flared with an anger all his own.

                His jaw rigid, he began to stalk toward her.

                “You see-“ Nettie exclaimed.

                Once Fallon reached her side, looming above her in all his golden swarthy, she could do no more than grin.

                “Damnation woman you’ll be the death of me.” He said this sternly with an undertone of gingerly softness.

                “I haven’t done aught.” She said innocently, smiling sweetly up at him.

                He raised a golden brow and she detected a shadow of a grin, “You haven’t done aught? You should be abed, not wandering the countryside in this blistering heat!”

                Her eyes left his momentarily to survey the village. “They will be happy here.” Her eyes grew teary and her heart swelled with an overwhelming joy that couldn’t be expressed in words.

                Fallon reached out and cupped her chin gently, turning her gaze back to him. “You are happy than, my wife?”

                She smiled, “Aye, very much.”

                He grinned, “Than the world is at peace.”

                She giggled as he swept a muscled arm about her waist, reeling her tenderly against him, mindful of their babe resting comfortably between them.

                He claimed her mouth passionately with all the love in his heart, holding on fiercely to his woman and child.

                “My fiery Saxon, you, who stayed a blade for me, are my ever-beating heart.” He whispered against her ear.

                She met her husband’s gentle, amber stare.

“As are you my golden Norman.”

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