Page 120 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

He wound his arms around her waist, pulling her close. Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed her forehead against his.

“It’s time to go home,” she breathed.

He chuckled. “Lass, ye are me home. I’d follow ye anywhere.”

She kissed him, cupping her hands around his jaw and holding him close as if he might fly away if she didn’t hold him tight enough.

The door opened and closed, and Daphne pulled back to see Willow sneaking out of the chapel, eyeing them uncertainly. Both she and Hunter held out their arms, and the little girl gave a squeal of delight and came running toward them. They snatched her up, showering her with kisses.

“What is it? What’s happening?” Willow demanded, wriggling in their arms.

“We’re going home, lass,” Daphne whispered.

“But first,” Hunter added with a grin, “yer ma and I have to get married.”

“Oh, aye,” Willow sighed. “I forgot about that.”

Two Weeks Later

“How do ye feel?” Daphne asked softly, leaning against Hunter’s shoulder.

He said nothing for a long moment.

She was sure that the journey hadn’t been easy for him, cramped as the carriage was, with Willow on his knee and his mother jabbering constantly. However, the good times had outnumbered the bad, with games and songs and food. Endless food. Now, Willow was asleep, curled up in his arms. River slept somewhere amongst the tangled blankets and pillows beside them.

Helena was asleep too, leaning against the side of the carriage, her shawl tucked around her shoulders.

“About what?” Hunter said.

Daphne rolled her eyes. “Come on, man. What do ye think? Ye are coming home. Ye are Laird again, after they let ye go.”

“Ye say it as if they threw me out. I chose to go. I was going to leave regardless, because I was going to find ye.”

She reached up, touching his cheek. “I ken, Hunter. But how do ye feel?”

He considered for a moment. “Uncertain,” he admitted. “I should feel as though I were going home, and I do, but there’s also trepidation. I might have been determined to go, but…” He threw her a wry smile. “They let me go.”

The carriage began to climb the long road up toward the keep. They would be there soon.

Despite her confident talk, Daphne felt a twinge of uncertainty. But no. Now wasn’t the time for uncertainty.

Through the gates they went, and she heard a roar of voices. The carriage rolled to a halt, and Helena jerked awake.

“We’re home?” she mumbled.

Willow perked up, too, smothering a yawn. “Home?”

“I’ll take her,” Helena offered, taking the little girl in her arms. “We’ll go inside and leave ye to greet the others. The councilmen, especially.”

Without waiting for a reply, Helena and Willow slipped out of the carriage. River hopped after them, nimbly scrambling along on three legs.

Daphne met Hunter’s gaze. “Shall we?”

“Aye,” he responded, his lips stretching into a lazy grin. “Let’s go.”

His hand found hers, their fingers lacing together. They climbed out of the carriage and greeted the crowd.

It seemed that everyone was there. Familiar, smiling faces met Daphne’s eyes. The cluster of nervous men at the front must be the councilmen.