Page 138 of Enchantment of a Highlander

Niall moved and a MacLean man took his place. He too made the sign of the cross. “She eased the babe from my wife’s womb after I thought they’d both die. She saved everything I’ve ever loved. May God rest her soul.”

He left and yet another man took his place. Only then did Alec realize a line had formed, each soldier with praise on his lips for the good she’d done and a blessing to offer.

Alec fell to his knees beside Celia and took her small hand in his own. “How can ye die when ye are so loved?” he whispered.

Then he felt it. The gentle thrum of her pulse against his palm.

Hope shot through him with wild elation. “Celia,” he said, his voice pitched with excitement. “Celia!”

And then, like a brilliant sun breaking through a thickly clouded day, her eyes blinked open.

A gentle smile touched her lips.

“Alec.” His name rasped from her throat and a slight grimace of pain crinkled her brow.

“Dinna speak.” He had to blink rapidly to keep her from blurring from sight. “Save yer strength.”

Her fingers curled over his and gave a squeeze. Not with the weak pressure of the dying, but the solid grasp of the healthy. The living.

Careful, he scooped his arms under her slender frame and cradled her against him. The scent of rosemary, the most wonderful smell in all the world, teased at his senses. He buried his nose in the fine, silken threads of her hair and breathed deep.

His eyes burned and it was all he could do to not crush her to him. “I love ye.” His words came out choked from the knot in his throat. “I love ye.” This time he said it louder, with all the fierceness of his affection.

Her fingers touched his face and he pulled back to look down at her, his beauty.

She searched his gaze with tear-filled eyes. “I love you,” she whispered in a soft strain. “I always have.”

“I dinna ever want to lose ye.” Something warm ran down his cheek, but she traced it away with her slender thumb. “Marry me, lass. No because I need ye to be my light, but because I love ye. And because life without ye makes me feel as though I canna breathe.”

A tear trickled from the corner of her eye and faded into her hair. She nodded. More tears came, faster now, soaking his shirt and turning the tip of her nose the bonniest shade of pink.

His heart swelled in his chest, filled to the brim with the most grateful joy. He rose to his feet with her in his arms. “Let’s get back to Duart, aye?”

Celia rested her head against his chest and nodded. Her eyes slipped closed, but the sweet smile on her lips told him there was nothing to fear.

She was alive and had made him the happiest man in all of Scotland.

He cradled her against his chest and nodded to his men.

They were going home.

Epilogue

Celia made her way slowly down the stairs, a feat not easily done with her belly so swollen with child. She kept one hand on the banister and the other she placed on the mound of her stomach.

The babe kicked within. Healthy and strong.

Duncan appeared at her side with his wide smile. “Let me help ye, my lady.” He held her elbow in his large hands. The boy was growing into a man more and more every day.

Celia laughed. “You know I’m perfectly capable of walking down the stairs on my own.”

“Aye, ye can, but Wynda would have me strung up by my toes if she knew I saw ye and dinna offer my courtly assistance.” He winked at her.

Wynda had been overworried and hovering ever since Celia had almost died.

“The great resurrection,” as everyone had called it.

Celia hadn’t liked that, but no one called her a witch anymore. They all thought of her as an angel instead.