Though she would miss her old life, at least she thought she would, spending the rest of eternity with Alec was worth every sacrifice.
“I’d really rather not have a convergence of your circle in my parlor just now. We’ve already been surrounded by half of Edinburgh for most of the day,” Alec complained as his coach stopped before his home, or their home, really.
Sorcha couldn’t help but grin at him. “It willna be for long, Alec. Besides, Cait said it was important.” And Sorcha had a feeling she knew why. Cait must have seen the future and realized Sorcha wouldn’t be counted amongst the Còig’s numbers much longer. It wouldn’t do to leave the others exposed. One last coming together was the least she could do for her lifetime friends.
“It’s already too long, and we haven’t gotten inside yet.”
“Be a good host, will ye?” she admonished.
“So I should greet them with a smile and then tell them to turn around and leave my wife to me?” His brow rose suggestively. “We have some unfinished business to attend to, lass, and I am more than anxious to finally attend to it.”
Warmth crept up Sorcha’s cheeks. She was more than anxious to attend to their business as well. But her final act as a Còig witch needed to be handled first. She owed that much to the others who had been such an important part of her life up until now.
The driver opened the door, and Alec bounded from the carriage. Then he offered his hand to Sorcha. “Mrs. MacQuarrie.” He smiled and scooped her up in arms as he started toward their front door.
Sorcha giggled. “I can walk, Alec.”
“Tradition, lass, tradition,” he replied as he bounded up the steps.
Before the door opened, a strand of ivy reached toward her and caressed Sorcha’s hand. Alec’s eyes grew wide at the contact. “Welcoming you home?” Awe laced his voice.
Sorcha bit back a laugh. Not a welcome per se, more like a quick recounting of a most delightful tale. “Something like that,” she murmured as the front door opened and Gibson nodded at the pair.
“Welcome home, sir, madam.”
Sorcha had never been called madam before. It made her feel a bit older than her years, though that would be a common occurrence from here on out, wouldn’t it?
Alec gently returned her to her feet and turned his eye on their butler. “We have guests right behind us, Gibson. Pray direct everyone to the green parlor.”
“Of course, sir.”
“And refreshments, Gibson,” Sorcha added.
The butler nodded and then started for the kitchens as Alec led Sorcha to the large front parlor where sunshine poured into the cheerful room. “Such a lovely day,” she commented.
Alec pulled her into his embrace. “I never really noticed before that every plant leans toward you like the sun. You should tell your little friends that your husband is the jealous sort.”
Sorcha laughed. “And ye should tell all of yer friends that yer wife is the jealous sort.”
Something flashed in his eyes, and Sorcha had the feeling it had to do with a certain whore being chased off his property the night before. “I have no friends anymore other than you, lass.”
“Well, then,” she reached up on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw, “ye are rather lucky ta have me.”
“Lucky indeed,” he agreed.
“I’ll say,” boomed Benjamin Westfield’s voice from the corridor. “No need to direct us, Gibson, I know just where to find Mr. and Mrs. MacQuarrie.”
Alec rolled his eyes. “Gibson hates him.”
Sorcha smiled up at her husband. “He’s yer friend, ye ken. Ben has always been yer friend.”
He tweaked her nose. “Aye.” He sighed. “I suppose there’s no getting rid of the dog, is there?”
Benjamin chose that moment to direct everyone into the green parlor. “Man’s best friend, you know.” He winked at the pair.
Almost instantly, the other four witches surrounded Sorcha, making it clear they required her presence. “Ye doona mind do ye, Alec?” Rhiannon asked sweetly.
A mild look of annoyance settled on his face. “After the blast you gave me this morning, Lady Blodswell, don’t think you can just charm me with the bat of your pretty eyes.”
Rhiannon giggled. “Ye deserved it and ye ken it, MacQuarrie.”
“We willna take up too much of her time,” Elspeth promised.
“You better not, or I’ll be forced to whisk her away the same way Ben did you, El.”
Her only response to that was a smile.
Once the five witches had sequestered themselves in one of the parlor’s corners,