The Bard (Highland Heroes #5) - Maeve Greyson Page 0,104

hers and squeezed. “The wee lass will be born last as the answer to her mother’s prayers.” He winked. “Aderyn says she’ll be spoiled rotten by everyone in the clan, but most especially by her brothers.”

“And her father, no doubt.”

“No doubt.”

She hugged closer and rested her head on his shoulder. “Eight wee ones. So many blessings.”

“And as great a blessing as they will be, they’re not the greatest blessing of all.” He kissed the top of her head and sent up a prayer of thanks that one as undeserving as himself should be granted such happiness.

Sorcha lifted her head and gave him a perplexed look. “What is this greatest blessing ye speak of?”

“Aderyn’s words were that the two of us are blessed beyond measure. She saw us walk through the years together to a great age. And when we leave this world within hours of one another, we are surrounded not only by our children but also by our children’s grown children and beyond.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “It is a wondrous gift to have been granted such a life. A pair of such rightly matched hearts such as ours couldna hope for more.”

“Oh my.” Tears overflowed and streamed down Sorcha’s cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “We never have to fear moving on alone. We will never be one without the other. Not ever.”

“Not ever, my love,” he promised. “Not ever.”

Epilogue

A year later…

Castle Greyloch

“Watch him now. Watch his intensity. Barely three months old and already hunting his first prey.” Sutherland swelled with pride. It didn’t matter that the object of his infant son’s interest was a trio of orange and black butterflies fluttering around a cluster of nearby flowers. He adjusted his little one’s position in the crook of his arm, supporting him higher to follow their flight. “There ye are, my son. Now, ye can see better. Soon ye’ll be chasing after them.”

Magnus gave an impressed nod. “I do believe wee Greyson is as alert as Merlin. He shall be a fine hunter someday.” Magnus comparing the child to the falcon was high praise indeed, and Sutherland took it as such.

“It is time for Greyson’s meal and a nap,” Sorcha said as she reclaimed her son and consoled Sutherland with a quick kiss. She inclined her head toward Magnus. “Dinna forget to give him his missive. It’s somewhere in the middle of that mountain of papers on yer desk.” As she headed toward the entry to the chief’s solar, she called back over her shoulder. “As tattered and worn as the folds of that parchment look to be, it’ll be a miracle if he can make out what it might have said inside.”

“What missive?” Magnus watched her go, then gave Sutherland a befuddled look. “A parchment?” he repeated. “Addressed to me?”

Sutherland rose and motioned for Magnus to follow. “It’s in the library. Alexander sent it here. Said it arrived at Tor Ruadh back in the winter, right after Hogmanay. When ye didna come down from the north for the winter, he thought it might catch up with ye here since he knew ye had promised to come by and see the bairn once the weather fully warmed. The outside of the packet bears yer name. I take it that this is the first ye’ve been among the living in a while? I thought ye always wintered at Tor Ruadh?”

“The cold months were mild this year, even mild enough for Merlin, so I stayed in the northern Highlands. Away from any settlements—mostly.” He grinned as he fell in step with Sutherland. “And I’ll have ye know I have been among the living. Red deer. Squirrels. Pine martens. All manner of grouse. They tend to offer a great deal less conflict and chaos than people do.” Magnus offered his forearm to the falcon perched on his shoulder, then released the bird into the sky. “Into the clouds with ye, my friend. I know ye dinna wish to be inside on such a fine day.” With a happy cry, the winged hunter took flight.

“We thought about sending Greyloch to find ye when ye didna show at the first greening of spring.” Sutherland riffled through the clutter on the desk. “God’s beard, what a mess.” With his father-in-law in Edinburgh for the past month, supervising the clan’s books and updating records had fallen to Sutherland, and he hated it with a passion. “The old fox doesna hesitate to leave us in charge of the