Page 89 of Leila’s Legacy

Epilogue

March 1350

Brampton, England

Good news was always best when it came in threes. And so it was at Werrick Castle. Leila rushed about, making the final preparations for the wedding to take place later on that afternoon.

After all, it was not every day one’s father finally remarried.

A touch of nausea teased at Leila’s awareness, but she set it aside, not having time to bother with it. A pack of children rushed toward her with Gavin at the front, Anice’s twelve-year-old son, who already was showing the authoritative leadership of his father as he led his band of miscreants.

“To the kitchens,” Gavin called to his cousins behind him.

Ella’s daughter, Blanche, followed quickly behind him, her green eyes alight with excitement. “I could smell the pastries this morning. I know she has some.”

“Pastries?” Little Eversham piped up. Cat’s youngest rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Oh, I like pastries very much.”

“So do we,” cried Joan and John together in unison. They had plumped up with good health from the thin, ill children Leila had first seen in the village when she feared they would die from the great pestilence.

An elegant girl with curling brown hair walked swiftly to keep after them, obviously attempting to keep from running indoors as her cousins did. Cat’s eldest, Evelyn, tutted. “We mustn’t get in the way.”

Leila caught Gavin by the arm and spun him playfully about as he passed. “The kitchens, you say?”

His blue eyes sparkled. “Aye, Nan promised us a treat.”

Even little Bonnie grinned excitedly at this. She and Brodie had settled easily into life at Werrick Castle.

“If you go, you must stay out of the way,” Leila cautioned. “In to get them and straight back out again.”

They all nodded solemnly at her.

“If we’re good at the wedding, will you show us how to throw knives?” Blanche asked.

Leila made a show of considering their request.

Blanche fluttered her long lashes and gave a smile so endearing, it nearly crumbled Leila’s resolve. “Please, Aunt Leila.”

“I’ll speak to your mothers about it.” It was as good an answer as Leila could muster under such endearing persuasion.

“Off with you now, and mind you stay out of the way.” Leila tilted her head down the hall.

They all ran off toward the kitchens for their promised pastries. Even Evelyn, though she did pause to tuck Eversham’s little hand into hers first.

“We’ll have one of those soon.” Niall’s warm voice pulled Leila’s attention behind her. “Did the herbs Isla gave ye help at all?”

“Aye, they did.” In fact, they’d minimized the nausea so well that Leila had asked her what was in it. Fortunately, it was absent any heifer’s piss. But then, Leila had sniffed it beforehand as a precaution. After so many years of working with Isla, Leila would have known the distinctly sharp odor at once.

She grinned at him as Niall pulled her into his arms. “Do you think we’ll have a boy or a girl?”

Niall set his hand to the small bump of Leila’s lower stomach and looked pensive. “Feels like…”

Leila raised her brows in expectation. The babe had been an unexpected and wonderful surprise. She knew children were a possibility when they wed, of course. But after having spent her life thinking she would be slain early in life, never once had she considered she might have a child of her own. Now though, the idea was seeded deeply in her heart and she thanked God every day for the child growing in her womb.

“Feels like a wee babe growing.” He shrugged. “I wasna ever good at knowing the future.”

Leila laughed and kissed her husband. “Nor am I anymore.” She’d grown used to no longer having visions. Her sleep was deep and uninterrupted and the constant worry that had shrouded most of her life had finally lifted.

“All of Werrick’s soldiers are prepared for the wedding celebration of a lifetime.” Niall winked. “Any attack would be thwarted immediately without any of us being the wiser.”