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Epilogue
Seven years later
“Are we getting very close, Mother?” the child asked, punctuating his question with an exaggerated sigh.
“We are but ten minutes nearer to our destination than the last time ye asked that very question, Angus,” the earl answered in a stern voice. “And I can assure ye, the answer will be exactly the same when ye pose it to yer mother again, ten minutes hence.”
Fiona tamped down her weariness and smiled patiently at her six-year-old son. They had been traveling for nearly two weeks and the initial excitement of going on a grand adventure had long since faded for Angus, and his four-year-old sister, Colleen. Only baby Andrew endured the long days without fuss; then again, he rode—well, mostly slept—in the comfort of a cushioned cart, his nurse by his side.
“Once we ride to the top of that hill, Arundel will be within our sights,” Fiona said, smiling as she adjusted her reins.
Bored with being confined in the cart with his youngest sibling, Angus was now riding with Connor, while Colleen was held in the protective circle of her father’s arms. Fiona had hoped this change would make the journey more tolerable for her children. Alas, the novelty of this arrangement had worn off within the hour and the pair were alternatingly asking the same question with exhausting regularity:Are we there yet?
“Are we truly that close to our journey’s end?” Gavin whispered, pulling his mount beside Fiona. “Or are ye just saying that to buy us a few moments of peace?”
“Both,” she answered with a wider smile. “The trees are taller and fuller than I remember, but I’d recognize these landmarks in my sleep.”
“England.” Gavin shook his head. “I still cannae believe I’ve brought my entire family across the border.”
“When we agreed to undertake this journey to visit Spencer, you were the one who bellyached the loudest about being separated from the children for so long. Besides, Spencer would be terribly hurt if they did not come with us,” Fiona replied.
“I insisted they be included because I knew we wouldn’t make it out of Scotland without them. I even bet Duncan that we’d get no farther than three miles before ye’d have me turning back to collect them,” Gavin countered with a wry grin.
Fiona laughed. Her husband knew her all too well. Yet the miracle of having whole and healthy children was something that neither of them took for granted. To be blessed with three was a joy beyond their hopes, and while he’d never admit it, Gavin doted and spoiled them even more than Fiona.
“We’ve reached the top of the hill, Mother!” Angus shouted. “The castle is up ahead.”
“I want to see,” Colleen exclaimed. “Lift me up high, Papa.”
Gavin obliged his squirming daughter. Fiona also lifted herself, straining her neck and then finally catching a glimpse of her former home. Memories flooded into her mind, along with a pleasant, tender feeling. She had been happy living here, first as a girl and later as a young bride.
“I cannot believe we are about to be reunited with Spencer,” Fiona said, her eyes welling with tears for the child she had not seen in over a year.
“I, too, am anxious to see him, but I’ll be happiest at finally having a private moment with ye,” Gavin declared, settling a protesting Colleen back in the saddle. “I find our sleeping arrangements less than ideal and our tent far too crowded at night.”
The smoldering look he cast at her caused Fiona’s heart to flutter and her skin to tingle. Aye, privacy would be welcome, though by morning there was often at least one child sleeping in their bed.
“We’ve been spotted,” Connor announced, circling back to ride beside Gavin.
The sound of squealing metal chains was clearly heard as the drawbridge slowly lowered. The people toiling in the fields ceased their work and started running to the castle gates.
“Is all as ye remember?” Gavin asked.
“Yes. No. Everything looks smaller, especially compared to our holdings.” Fiona lifted her arm and shaded the sun from her eyes. “I worried that a drought would harm the yield, but the crops are growing tall and straight,” she observed. “My son has done well.”
“I never doubted Spencer’s ability,” Gavin confessed. “To first take the castle and then to hold it.”
Fiona had shared Gavin’s confidence, but a mother’s worry had kept her on her knees in prayer when Spencer had gone to retake his birthright, leading a small army of retainers. The siege and subsequent battle had been accomplished with minimal losses, and the people had welcomed him back with surprising loyalty.
Word of their arrival spread rapidly through the village and it seemed as though everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch them. Mouths dropped, tools were put aside, tasks abandoned. Suddenly, one of the women cried out.
“Lady Fiona? Is it really you?”
“Bertha!” Fiona answered, pleased to discover a familiar face among the crowd. “I’m so happy to be back.”
“Why is the lady crying, Mama?” Colleen asked. “Did she hurt her finger?”
The little girl held up her own bandaged thumb. Ever since she had somehow wedged it between two rocks a few days ago, Colleen associated any sign of tears with a bruised finger.
