Crotach with his clan.
“Ah, the scent of haggis. Would ye care for another bite?” Lennox teased. “Old David always makes more than enough.”
Nora laughed, wrinkling her nose. “Please, no. I did my best to swallow it at the table, when everyone was watching me, but the only thing I want right now is to hold our daughter.”
They found the baby with her aunts, Violette and Fiona, and cousins Niall and Lucien. Three-year-old Lucien de St. Briac was sitting astride the dozing bulk of Raoul, his family’s great French hound. “Listen,” he commanded his small cousins. “I will tell ye a story! It is about the blue men of the Minch.”
Nora’s heart leaped, as it always did, at the sight of Brienne. Blessed with deep blue eyes like Nora’s own and a head of red-gold curls, Brienne Brodie MacLeod was nearly six months old. She sat now on a small woven rug, wobbling slightly, and when she saw her parents, she giggled and toppled over.
Lennox scooped her up effortlessly. “Ah, my wee lass, have ye hurt yourself?”
The baby cooed as she pressed a damp hand to his cheek. Nora’s heart swelled anew with a love more powerful than she could have ever imagined. Perhaps it was even sweeter to watch them together because Lennox loved Brienne just as if she were his own child. Once, soon after the baby’s birth, Nora had ventured this observation and he had given her a hard stare.
“What are ye talking about? This babe is my own child.”
Still, Nora was glad their daughter resembled her rather than Sir Raymond Slater. If she had been born with Slater’s black hair and dark eyes, perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered, but Nora was grateful not to have to find out.
Just then, Magnus MacLeod strode into the castle hall, filling the space with his energy. “Ah, there ye are!” he boomed, fixing his weathered gaze on Lennox and Nora. “Come and join the others in the gun court. The time has come to bid farewell to our clan chief.”
* * *
“Walk with me, lad,” Magnus said to Lennox as they began to leave the hall.
Lennox glanced at Nora, who smiled and held out her arms for Brienne. As she joined Violette and the others, he kept pace with his da. The air outside was cool and refreshingly damp from the morning’s rain, and cobbles were slick under their boots.
“I’ve something to say.” Magnus’s voice was gruff. “To ye alone. I need to tell ye again how deeply I regret the mistakes that were made when ye were young. The secrets we kept…”
Looking over at Da, Lennox felt a tide of emotion. In that moment, surrounded by walls of their clan stronghold, he was more certain than ever of his identity. “I know, Da.” He patted Magnus’s thick shoulder, thinking of his own Brienne. Would he one day reveal that he was not her natural father? It was a question Lennox could not yet answer. “No doubt you meant to do what was best for me.”
“Aye! How can it be that ye have gained that understanding?”
Lennox searched for the right words. “When I was away, I discovered that the destiny I searched for had been inside me all the while, and I came to appreciate the love ye gave me all through my life.”
“Ah, lad.” Pausing, Magnus cleared his throat, watching him. “I suppose that man must’ve disappointed ye in some way?”
“Nay.” Lennox squinted out at Loch Dunvegan, where a handful of galleys and birlinns bobbed near the sea-gate. “I could see how he and I are connected too. But Skye is my true home, with our clan, even if it’s not MacLeod blood in my veins. I suppose I had to undertake that quest before I could fully understand.”
“Can ye forgive me, then? I’ve suffered every day since ye came here with that cursed portrait, demanding the truth.” Magnus’s bloodshot eyes grew wet.
“Oh, aye. Of course I forgive ye.” Lennox felt his heart open. “Ye will always be my da.”
They embraced then, Da squeezing with all his might. What Lennox didn’t say aloud was that he’d discovered there were no easy answers. No heroes or villains, just a lot folk who were flawed yet tried to love him all the same. The truth was all of that mattered less now that he was forging a path of his own, with Nora and the family they were creating together.
Ciaran’s shout reached them from the gun court. “Da, Lennox, come on, then!”
The