Epilogue
Elizabet stretched her back and put her feet up on a stool, only to yank them away again when crumbling bits of mortar rained down on her skirts. She sighed and brushed them off before hauling herself up to see if she could locate her husband. There was little point in trying to relax, anyway. At least anywhere in a hundred-yard radius of the house. John had the workers in a frenzy, crawling all over the place in an effort to have the main house, at least, fully restored in the next few weeks.
She found him standing in the courtyard, overseeing the re-thatching of a patch of roof that had worn through. He smiled when he saw her. The worn-out tension inside her dissipated, and she went gratefully into his arms.
“And how are ye today, my wife?”
She snuggled in to him. “Growing more unwieldy. I won’t be able to move at all soon.”
He laughed and placed his hand over her burgeoning belly. “Aye, ye do look as though ye’ve swallowed an entire bushel of Mrs. Byrd’s fresh bannocks.”
She gasped and slapped at his arm, but he just laughed harder and pulled her to him for a hearty kiss.
“You really are the most exasperating man,” she said, turning to view the work going on.
“Aye, but ye love me anyway.”
She grinned. “Aye, that I do.”
She sighed deeply and looked around them. The main house was nearly finished. Work had gone quickly since they’d returned home three months earlier, even though only the most trusted of Glenlyon’s men had been enlisted to help. John was still a wanted man. The estate was secluded and largely forgotten by most, so it should be safe enough. But the danger always lurked that one day soldiers would discover them and recapture John. Though he had considered it worth the risk to bring his wife home to bear their first child on his family’s soil.
She, on the other hand, would rather her husband be safe and sound far from those who hunted him. But he was her husband and the love of her life. She’d go anywhere he bid. Though with a great deal of argument and not until she’d exacted a solemn vow that should they run into danger, John would immediately flee. With or without her and their child.
For the moment, though, she was glad to be back in Scotland. And with the baby due in a few months’ time, she did feel much better knowing Sorcha and the Glenlyon women were nearby. Their home was coming along nicely and while the rest of the buildings would take a bit longer, it was the main house they’d been concerned with completing before the baby arrived.
“Do you think they’ll finish in time?” she asked, her hands absently caressing her belly.
“They better. Or our bairn will be spending his first night in the stables.”
The courtyard was a bustle of activity that sparked a familiar anxiety. Activity could draw attention.
“Is it safe, do you think?” she asked, moving closer to him. “Should we have stayed away?”
“And let our child be born in exile? Moving from place to place with no home to call his own? No. It was time to come home. We’ve been gone for more than a year now. I wouldna think anyone is looking for me still. And besides, Charles seized my English estates, but he left Kirkenroch alone. I dinna believe he’ll make a great effort to find me again. As long as I keep my feet firmly on Scottish soil.”
She looked over their home again. “It’s going to be beautiful.”
“Aye,” he said, his voice filled with pride. “It’s a bonny place. Though none so bonny as its lady.”
He lifted her hand to his lips, and she smiled up at him, but their peaceful moment was shattered when one of the village boys ran up to them.
“Riders, sir! Two of them.”
Fear spiked through Elizabet. John ran to the gates that led out of the courtyard and looked out. She followed behind as fast as she could.
Kirkenroch sat atop a hill but was situated with its back and sides against rock outcroppings and a small forest, with only its front open. It was secluded but well placed to view the surrounding countryside and the one road that led to it.
“Is it soldiers?” Elizabet asked, her chest heaving both from the effort it had taken to move so quickly and from the terror flooding her system.
“No, mo ghràidh,” he said, reaching back to take her hand. “Dinna fash. One of them is a lass, see?” he said, pointing to the skirts flapping against the flanks of one of the horses. “And the other driving the wagon…it must be Philip. But who…?”
She shaded her eyes and then gripped John’s arm. “Is that…it’s Alice!” She waved wildly, excitement bursting through her. It had been nearly two years since she’d last seen her friend and she’d missed her dreadfully.
John frowned. “How did they end up in each other’s company?”
The horses trotted to a stop at the gates, and Elizabet was at Alice’s side before she’d had a chance to dismount, slinging questions at her so quickly Alice laughed, despite her drawn appearance. She slid down and into Elizabet’s arms.
“What is this?” Alice exclaimed, releasing Elizabet long enough to touch her belly.
Elizabet laughed. “John’s son, according to him. I say it’ll be a girl.”
Alice gathered her in another crushing hug. “You look wonderful. And happy,” she said, pulling back to cup her face.
“I am,” Elizabet agreed, hugging her again.
They stopped exclaiming over each other long enough to glance at the men, who stood staring at them with twin looks of bemusement.
“Not that we are’na glad to see ye both,” John said, nodding at them, “but what are ye doing here? Together?”
Alice jutted her chin in the air, and Philip snorted. “Better break out the whisky. ’Tis a long tale.”
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