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He lifted and rolled from her, grinning at her like a loon. “I love that ye are nae shy about making love. I am marrying the perfect woman.”

“Marriage?” Anne teased. “Have I accepted?”

He blinked, then frowned. “We must speak to Gowan immediately.”

Anne pulled a blanket to cover her nakedness. “Not until after I eat. I am quite famished.”

Epilogue

Anne woke slowly, wrapped in the soft hush morning brought. Pale gold filtered through the window, warming the quilt draped across her and painting gentle patterns across the bed. She rolled onto her side and smiled at the sight beside her.

Her husband, Camden, lay sprawled across his back, arms flung wide as though claiming the bed as his territory. As usual, he occupied far more space than he needed, leaving Anne perched near the edge most nights. Sometimes she’d be draped partly across him just to avoid tumbling off altogether.

Not that she minded.

Her gaze lingered fondly. His fair skin glowed in the morning light, his deep red hair tousled in sleep, and those long lashes rested against his cheeks like delicate brushstrokes. She loved the strength in the slope of his nose, the softness of his mouth, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

She nearly reached out. Nearly traced those familiar features. But she stopped herself.

“Ye’re doing it again,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. “Staring at me.”

Anne huffed softly. “I am nae.”

His eyes opened, bright green and full of quiet amusement. “How long have ye been awake?”

“Just a few moments,” Anne replied.

A warm, open smile that never failed to loosen something in her chest formed. “I love waking here,” he said.

“But?” she prompted gently.

His hand reached for her, thumb brushing along her jaw with easy tenderness. “But ye ken I must spend more nights at the apothecary. Folk come needing help at all hours.” His expression softened. “I dinnae like sleeping apart from ye.”

Anne slipped closer, fitting herself comfortably against his side. “I rather like how obvious it is when ye miss me,” she teased, pressing light kisses across his cheek and brow. “Ye must admit there is some amusement in it. I like living here, the open space, the creek…”

“I do too. And so far Brae has been doing well in his learnings. However, he still has much to learn.”

“It will nae take long for him to learn and then we will live here,” Anne pronounced.

His laughter rumbled deep and warm beneath her ear. “Up with ye and make me something to eat, wench,” he declared grandly.

She had nearly escaped the bed when his arms looped around her waist and tugged her back. Her protest dissolved into laughter, the morning filling with easy affection before they finally rose to face the day.

Thankfully, Moyra had accepted defeat and was rarely seen out and about. A part of Anne felt badly for her, but when she thought about what the woman had done to Camden, all sympathy left.

Eara on the other hand had come to see them one day. It was surprising to find her and her husband Eoghan standing beside her as she apologized to Camden. In tears, she’d admitted how wrong she’d been to approach him. Camden had accepted her apology and the men had shook hands.

They’d not be friends by any stretch of the imagination, but it felt good to know the chapter had finally closed for her husband.

*

Later, Anne stood stirring porridge over the hearth, the scent of oats and honey warming the small cottage. Sunlight spilled across the floorboards, and through the window she spotted Gowan approaching, boots crunching softly along the path, but didn’t enter the cottage.

Her brother still joined them most mornings. Though marriage had shifted routines, it had not broken habits entirely.

“What is Gowan doing?” she asked a few moments later as Camden entered outside.

“Feeding the cat,” he replied. “Claims the creature will eat the hens otherwise.”