Beyond A Highland Whisper (32 page)

“Nessa,” Latharn chided as he cupped her chin in his palm and lifted her face to his. “There is no such thing as ‘plain old you.’ All I see before me is my beautiful bride. Ye shine in body as well as in soul.”

He waved his hand over her body as he grazed her lips with his mouth. Latharn raised his head and watched her. He waited for her reaction as she became aware of the gown he’d summoned for her.

The color of perfect sapphires sparkling in sunlight, Nessa caught her breath as she ran her hands over the satiny folds. She moved to stand in front of the floor length mirror, gasping at her reflection. The deep blue of the velvet collar, just off her shoulders, framed her ivory skin and mirrored her sparkling eyes.

Walking up behind her, Latharn placed his hand to the pulse beating at the base of her throat and his eyes became remote once again. With a satisfied smile, a teardrop shaped sapphire harkened to his call and sparkled at the end of a golden chain around Nessa’s neck. “This is my gift to you upon our wedding night. But its beauty pales in comparison with yours.”

Nessa blinked against unshed tears, sniffing as she cradled the precious gem in her hands. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and took a slight step back. As Latharn moved beside her, the jewel glistening in her hands was forgotten. Running her gaze up and down his well-sculpted body, she couldn’t resist licking her lips. “I’m ready to go up to the rooftop and say our vows, but don’t you think you’re slightly underdressed?”

Latharn glanced down at his naked body. With a grin, he waved his hands across his powerful torso. As soon as his hands lifted, he appeared in his family’s colors. He hadn’t worn his dress kilt since before Deardha’s curse. He stood taller and squared his shoulders with pride.

His full Highland dress brought a gasp of pleasure from Nessa. His finest kilt hugged his narrow hips. He stood as though ready for battle. The whitest of tunics stretched taut across his broad chest, his plaid pinned to one shoulder with the original MacKay crest. His sporran and his father’s claymore finished the vision of fierce Highlander ’til death.

With a bow, Latharn extended his arm, smiling as Nessa laid a trembling hand on his own. “Let us go to the rooftop. Our family waits to hear us speak our vows beneath the autumn moon.”

As Latharn and Nessa emerged from the tower of the laird’s private rooms, Fiona clapped her hands and cried, “I told ye they’d be here! I knew they’d still wed.” She elbowed Brodie and fixed him with a superior glare.

“I never said they wouldn’t be.” Brodie snorted.

“It’s about time.” Trish raised her wine glass in a toast.

A cloudless night blessed the couple’s gathering. The battlements were awash with the blue-white glow of the swollen autumnal moon. The cold, crisp air attested to the endless turn of the seasonal wheel. Winter was not far away. The kiss of frost bit the air.

Arm in arm, the couple wound their way across the stone walkway surrounding the top of the keep. A shimmering table bearing a golden braid materialized against the farthest wall facing the ocean.

Dozens of MacKay ancestors appeared along the inner wall of the castle. Everywhere, clansmen from ages past materialized out of thin air. It was as if they’d all been biding their time for the appropriate moment to make their presence known. Many of them had been victims of the evil sorceress. Some had once been starving children, grown to healthy warriors thanks to Latharn’s rescuing hand. All were proud to make their presence known at the wedding of their newly freed laird.

Latharn’s mother, Rachel, stood close beside the altar with a tall, striking man holding her close to his side. Inseparable in life, they were joined in death. Nothing would ever keep Caelan and Rachel apart.

Aveline stood beside her parents. She greeted Nessa with a glowing smile. With a wave of her hands, she adorned the walls and the altar with white roses tipped in silver. She smiled once more at Nessa and gave a regal tilt of her head. A circlet of white roses appeared in Nessa’s hair with silver ribbons flowing down her back.

Thank you,
Nessa mouthed, clutching Latharn’s arm tighter. There were so many of them. So many MacKays. She had to remember to breathe.

Latharn squeezed her hand in the crook of his arm. “’Twill be all right, Nessa. Just feel the love that surrounds us.”

Both of Latharn’s brothers were also in attendance. They stood with their wives and many children that Latharn had only seen as he’d looked out of his crystal tomb.

Nessa caught her breath when she saw the man waiting to hear their vows. He seemed so very old. Latharn had told her he was the ancient MacKay, the original Auld One. Brought forth by the goddess, his magic strengthened by the addition of Rachel’s talents to the bloodline, it was he who fathered all MacKay magic. He had been the first.

His waist-length hair and beard took on an eerie glow in the energy of the autumnal moon. His eyes burned with the knowledge of eons, his face as weathered as a sheet of ancient papyrus. He nodded once and glanced around at all the souls of the gathering, his authority commanded silence.

“Latharn. Nessa. Come forward to be joined. Ye have been patient in your quest.” He extended his hand and held his upturned palm toward the couple, waiting for them to place their hands within his.

The ancient MacKay glanced down at the golden braid upon the table and then returned his eyes pointedly to the couple’s hands. The rope obeyed the ancient one’s silent command and wound its way around Nessa and Latharn’s wrists.

With a satisfied nod, the Auld One looked to the moon, then down upon the couple’s loosely bound hands. His booming voice echoed into the velvety night and traveled through space and time. “Joined in this life. Joined in the next. These two are now one. From this moment on, they are eternally bound. Through this life and beyond.”

A shaft of pure energy shot down from the moon. It exploded as it hit the metallic loops encircling their hands. A surge of heat flashed through Nessa’s body. A sense of elation fluttered through her heart as Latharn’s hand tightened over hers. She’d never be alone again.

When the blinding light cleared, the rope had disappeared, and left a glowing ring on each of their hands. Without a word, Latharn pulled Nessa into his arms and sealed the joining with a kiss. When he raised his head, he smiled down into Nessa’s misting eyes.

“I love ye more then ye will ever know. Ye have always been my own. Now and forever. Through this life and into the next. Now that we have found each other and performed the joining rite, we will never be separated again.”

Nessa caught her breath, holding his face between her hands as tears threatened to overflow. “I never thought as long as I lived that I would ever find this much happiness. I’m so glad you found my soul.”

Epilogue

With a contended sigh, Nessa settled deeper into the pillows and watched Latharn silhouetted against the window. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, my dearest husband.”

Latharn stood with his head bowed, mesmerized by the squirming bundle squeaking in his arms. “I
am
verra proud, my love, but I am proud of my wondrous wife—and I am truly humbled.” He walked back to the bed, settling the wriggling bundle back in the pillows beside her and brushed his lips across her forehead.

“Are ye ready for me to go down and get the others? I am sure they heard them. I’m afraid your sons have verra strong lungs.” Latharn grinned across the bed at the little bundles as they kicked and squirmed beside their mother.

“Not yet. Wait just a little longer. Right now…they’re still just ours.” Nessa reached over and touched a tiny pink fist waving about in the air. Her emotions swelled, flooded her with a serene glow, she never dreamed she’d be this happy.

“We havna decided on their names.” Latharn eased down on the bed beside her to cup a tiny head in his massive hand. “I rather liked Trish’s suggestion. She said we should go out to the loch and the name that bellows the best across the water is the name we should choose. She seems to think a son of mine will be having his name constantly shouted. Can ye imagine a son of mine getting into a bit of mischief? Why would she say such a thing?”

Nessa rolled her eyes. “Oh, I can’t imagine. Not a son of Latharn MacKay.” She pushed herself higher on the piles of pillows and added, “And what’s this I hear from Fiona and Brodie about catching you in the nursery giving lessons to the twins?”

Latharn arched a brow, a twinkle in his eye as he gave Nessa a sideways glance. “Lessons, you say?”

“Yes, lessons,” Nessa repeated. “It appears that although the twins can’t even sit up by themselves, they’re getting quite good at making objects appear out of thin air.”

“Truly?” Latharn fixed Nessa with a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Such magic is verra good for one’s so young.”

“Latharn!” Nessa scolded. Then she couldn’t hold back the fit of giggles. He enjoyed his time with his family so much. He’d been imprisoned from those he loved for so long. He embraced his loved ones and cherished every moment to the fullest. Latharn never let an opportunity slip by.

The bundle at the farthest side of the bed yowled, starting a chain reaction with his brothers. With a resigned sigh, Nessa shook her head. “I guess we might as well introduce them now. It doesn’t sound as though we’re going to keep our secret any longer.”

Latharn grinned and pecked a kiss on the end of her nose. “I love ye, Nessa.”

“And I love you, Latharn.”

Pausing at the top of the staircase, Latharn grinned, reveling in the strength of his sons making their displeasure known.

Fine strapping lads! Every one of them. He and Nessa were truly blessed.

Trish held up her fingers. “One, two, three…three of them. I knew it! I win the pot! I knew Latharn wouldn’t let Brodie beat him with twins.”

Running across the room, Trish reached up on the mantel to retrieve the money out of an earthen jar.

Latharn shouted down from the top of the stair, roaring the MacKay battle cry until the dust shook loose from the rafters.

His laugh rumbled across the room as he waved them all up the stairs.

“Brodie! Fiona! Trish! Come and greet my sons! And Trish, put back the money jar. Ye canna count your winnings just yet. Come and see. Ye canna tell anything by counting the number of cries.”

Curiosity registering on all their faces, they scrambled up the stairs. As he ushered them inside, Latharn clapped Brodie on the back and hugged the women until their faces turned red.

Nessa greeted them all with a tired smile. She sat propped up against piles of pillows, two sons on one side and two sons on the other. Four wriggling little bundles surrounded her on the bed, their faces still red and angry from emerging from their mother’s warm comfortable womb.

Nessa smiled down at her sons and caressed each of their downy heads. “I think we’re going to need some more help in the nursery. The twins and now these four are a little much for one nurse.”

As she stroked the velvety softness of the nearest baby’s cheek, she felt her weary smile widen. “By the way, Trish…didn’t you say you were taking Dugan MacKay on a picnic today to show him the goddess well?”

Trish nodded as she bent to pick up one of the babies. Pressing a kiss to his tiny fist, she looked up and smiled. “Yep. We’re going there this afternoon. Why do you ask?”

With a knowing wink, Nessa fixed Latharn with a meaningful glance, then pointedly looked at each of their sons. She shook her head then snuggled down into the pillows as she pulled the rest of her babies close.

“You might want to take care about getting close to that water in the presence of a MacKay.”