Page 91 of Leila’s Legacy

They were waiting to tell everyone their own good news until after the wedding. Today was for Marin to introduce her son, and for Rose and Father to celebrate their union.

“I think all is ready,” Niall said. “Or at least, so says Bernard.” He turned his attention to Bran. “Yer timing is perfect. The servants can tend to yer things while we’re at the chapel.”

“We would have arrived sooner, but someone made us stop every few moments.” Marin cast a teasing glance up at Bran.

“I might be a bit of a worrier when it comes to my family.” He gave a roguish grin. “But I’ll kick the arse of any man that dares call me that.”

Marin chuckled and shook her head at her husband.

Nan appeared in the doorway and put her hands to her mouth. “Ach, Lady Marin.” She rushed over to her, cooing over the sleeping Nicholas. “I was told to summon everyone to the chapel and look here at what I find.”

Niall gallantly offered Leila his arm. “Can I walk ye to the chapel, my beautiful wife?”

She accepted his offer and slipped her hand against the strong warmth of his arm. He led her to the chapel, where the pews quickly filled with family and friends close enough to be family themselves.

Rose was beautiful in a pale pink gown with her red hair hanging in glossy waves down her back. Lord Werrick looked regal as he made his way down the aisle in a new doublet with gilt edging and a sparkle in his eyes that warmed Leila’s heart.

And as they listened to the vows being spoken, Leila’s heart swelled to near-bursting. The border between Scotland and England was seldom one of joy or security and yet her family had found both. Even as their lives had been shadowed by sorrow for so many years, now happiness shone down upon them.

The dangerous lands made for precarious living, and yet through it all, love found each and every one of them. And they would all, as Ella put it in her stories, live happily ever after.

Thank you for reading LEILA’S LEGACY, the final book of my Borderland Ladies series! I hope you’ve enjoyed being part of the Barrington family as much as I have.

Please know that I read all of my reviews and would love to know how you enjoyed the story, so please do leave a review.

Not ready for the series to end yet? Me neither! Coming in 2020: Borderland Rebels!

Follow Drake Campbell and his three sisters, Faye, Clara and Kinsley, on the Scottish side of the border where life carries its own dangers and trials and, of course, passions.

Per-Order Faye’s Story Now!

Continue reading for a short backstory on Drake and his sisters to get to know them a little better. They can’t wait to meet you in 2020!

June 1327

Drake Campbell accepted the purse of coins with a stoicism that would have made his da proud. A lump formed in the back of his throat, thick and obtuse, but he swallowed it down. He was a man of twelve summers, not some lass tucked by her mother’s knee.

He was on the path to become a knight. Well, after he became a squire, of course.

He thanked the royal steward who had personally bestowed the costly gift upon him. It was an honor any page would have relished, were it not for the circumstances.

“You do realize that with Sir Harold’s passing, you and your family can no longer remain on the land.” The steward spoke gently, but it did not temper the pain of his words.

“The land will be escheated to the king.” Drake repeated the words that had been spoken to him once before by his da. Because he had wed a Scottish laird’s daughter, Sir Harold’s land could never be passed down to Drake and would instead be absorbed by the crown.

At the time, Sir Harold, a knight never once defeated in battle, had laughed at the idea of his death.

The jest had lost its mirth.

Drake awkwardly held the weighty bundle of coins in his hands. “’Tis kind of ye to grant us this gift.” And indeed it was. Without land, without a home, they would need it. Even if it would not last long for a family of five.

“Your father was a brave knight.” The royal steward removed his feathered cap and lowered his head so Drake could see his shiny pate. “One of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ll be a knight like him one day,” Drake vowed.

The steward straightened and regarded Drake with a pained expression. “Not with that accent, my boy.” He shook his head. “Not with Scottish blood running in your veins.”

The knot in Drake’s throat fisted tighter and rage fired hot in his veins. His father had died for this country and now it shunned him and his family with little more than a sack of coin to make their pillows cradle their heads more comfortably at night.