Authors: Angeline Fortin

A Laird for All Time (30 page)

Epilogue

Manhattan

October 28, 1956

Emmy MacLean shuffled slowly across the room with a bottle of Coke in each hand. Outside the windows, the bright lights of Manhattan sparkled against the dark sky. Life, her life in particular, had seen many changes from new to old and back to almost new again. Buildings and inventions that amazed others always brought a secret smile to her lips.

You think that was something? she’d think. Just wait and see.

It had been a good life, just as her grandson had promised her.

When she had walked back into Duart on Christmas Eve, Connor had stared at her for a long moment in disbelief before meeting her headlong rush into his arms. He had swung her around as they had laughed and cried. The joy on his face had matched her own. His devastation over her disappearance had been awful, Dory had told her later on, but the family had banded together, determined to help him through it.

On her return, Connor had told her she was never allowed to leave his side again and, for almost twenty years, she rarely did, and was never out of his sight. When she worked, he came along. When he traveled, she went with him. But they had never minded. She never tired of living in his pocket and he never tired of her being there. As Connor the Fourth had predicted, they often fought, over differences of opinion and such, but always loved each other truly and completely.

They had traveled the world together, allowing Connor’s brother and cousins to take a greater part in the family businesses that benefited them all.

They had had three sons and a daughter; Connor, Jamie, Cam and Meagan, after Emmy’s mother. All three boys had fought bravely, despite Emmy’s arguments that they not, in World War I. They had lost Jamie to gunfire in Germany. The others had married and had families of their own. Connor, the third of his name, had stayed on Mull while Cam moved on to London and Meagan had gone on eventually with her husband to do the same. And they had had many grandchildren including Connor the Fourth whom she had always been especially close to.

Thanks to the black notebook Emmy had filled with every significant fact she could find about the early part of the twentieth-century, the family’s investments and fortunes grew. She knew just when to invest and when to withdraw. There had always been whispers about her incredible luck. They had weathered the years well. Duart had thrived and the MacLeans had gained back nearly all the land they had lost hundreds of years before.

Through the years, Emmy delivered almost 500 babies on Mull and, in other areas of medicine, felt that she had saved a life or two that might otherwise have been lost, especially during the influenza epidemic in 1919. In her tote when she had returned that fateful day, she had brought her own medical bag stocked with a true stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, and other modern goodies. The rest of the bag had held hundreds of bottles of Motrin and a dozen bottles of penicillin, all that she could get away with after breaking into the medical fridge at the clinic.

The simple fever reducer had saved the lives of dozens during that year, including Ian’s.

Emmy had also brought the picture of herself with her mother that she had shown Connor, and a printed copy of the picture she had taken of herself and Connor in front of Duart. Dozens more in black and white had followed over the years. Her black notebook had also contained sheet music for the piano from musicals of her time, favorites she wanted to share with Connor and teach her children.

They saw every movie they could. They had read ‘Gone With the Wind’ together when it was published and gone to the movie premier in Atlanta. As for the rest, Emmy had eventually learned to appreciate the oldies.

Yes, she had had a good long life, but there was still one more thing to do. She eased herself down on the couch and passed one of the Cokes to Connor who took a long drink and sighed in a gravelly voice. “I am so glad we invested in this all those years ago, my love.”

“Me, too.” She patted his knee and leaned against his side. Connor was ninety-two years old, frail and stooped with age, but to her he was still the most handsome man she had ever known. His dark eyes still warmed with love when they took in her aged body, sagging skin and gray hair. Unbelievable.

But she felt not a moment of regret, never a millisecond of wondering what might have been. She had just loved this man and been loved by him for sixty-one years and never missed a thing.

What more could a woman want?

She took a sip of her cold drink and snuggled against him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. This would be their last trip. Tomorrow they would board their last ocean liner to Scotland (Connor had refused to ever get in an airplane).
They would return to Duart and never leave again, but since there was no satellite TV yet, they had had to be in America for this moment.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he teased.

They watched in silence for a few minutes until Emmy finally turned her head to look at him with a twinkle in her eye. “I told you so.”

And Elvis gyrated and sang his rock and roll on the
Ed Sullivan Show
.

Author’s Notes

I’ve set this story at the real Duart Castle on the Isle of
Mull, which is the ancestral home of the Clan MacLean. In 1691, the MacLean’s surrendered Duart during the Jacobean rebellion and did not regain the lands until about 1910 when it was purchased by Sir Fitzroy MacLean from the widow of Murray Guthrie who then changed the name of their estate from Duart House to Torosay. It was then that the actual restoration began.

Obviously I moved up the date of the restoration to fit with my timeline and the interior descriptions I give are completely fictional, but I’ve tried to be as accurate as possible with the area and the history surrounding it. From the landscape around the castle to the story of the Lady’s Rock to my descriptions of Torosay and the naming of it. Craignure is the main harbor town of Mull and is where the ferry docks today much as I
describe it on Emmy’s return to Mull.

In the present day, Torosay and Duart are open to the public. Torosay is open for tours of the house and gardens and does have a Tea Room while you can tour the castle at
Duart, which is currently owned by Sir Lachlan MacLean.

Once upon a time, I did live in Virginia and near Baltimore as well and I think it is still the best place in America to get crab bisque and steamed mussels.

Incidentally, Duart is open from May until October.

About the Author

Angeline Fortin picked up her first romance novel in college and has never been able to put them down since. A life-long lover of history, she holds a BA degree in History from the University of Nevada-Las Vegas and has worked at Colonial Williamsburg as a historical interpreter. Blending her two favorite things, she began writing her own historical romances for the enjoyment of herself and her friends ten years ago.

Angeline is a native Minnesotan, a fan of the Vikings and the Twins. As a former military wife, she has lived in many places but currently resides in the southeast with her husband and two children and misses the cold weather.

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