Scot of Ruin - Extended Epilogue

Scot of Ruin – Extended Epilogue

September, Moy Hall, five years later…

“’Tis wonderful tae have the family all together like this. They’re quite an impressive bunch,” Agnes said, squeezing Conrad’s arm in hers as they strolled across the grass.

“Aye, I suppose they are, but they have a tendency tae have very noisy bairns,” he pretended to grumble, eliciting laughter from Agnes. She was looking out over the lawn at their family, all gathered together, in the gardens of Moy Hall.

It was a balmy September day, and gentle music from a harpist floated on the air, along with the excited shouts and laughter of children coming from somewhere out of sight. The Mackintosh clan had come in numbers to celebrate Roisin’s tenth birthday, two generations of them, Conrad’s cousins and their parents, his aunts and uncles.

On a flag-stoned area to the side of the lawn stood a long table loaded with the remains of a lavish birthday tea, all manner of drink, plus the remains of a large, iced birthday cake. Lounging around the table, drinking and chatting were her parents, Duncan, Eileen, Evander and May, and two of Conrad’s uncles.

Seated on one side of the table was his cousin Kathleen and her husband Blaine, along with their daughter Anabel. Kathleen, the daughter of Conrad’s uncle Bran and his wife Illyssa, was a stunning, auburn-haired beauty, rather wild in nature, and a renowned horsewoman. Her long auburn tresses mingled with Blaine’s dark, unruly locks as they leaned together, sipping wine, talking and laughing with Conrad’s other cousin the more restrained Diana.

Agnes liked Diana, a maverick, who was interested in the healing arts despite her noble position. She was serious, practical, and kind, and adored by her enigmatic husband Lorne, a man of few words who was obviously smitten with his wife and right now cuddling their baby son Diarmaid.

Not far from them, canoodling shamelessly, was Conrad’s striking cousin Kieran. Rather like Conrad, with his blonde hair and stormy-grey, Kieran was imperative to look at and charismatic. Yet he seemed to have found his match in the beautiful, spirited Alina. They watched their twins, Nathaniel and Eloise, running around and teasing each other like only a brother and sister could.

Their parents were present too. Alec, Laird of Clan Mackintosh was leaning a mighty arm on the table, his long blond hair tied back from his face, a slightly older version of Evander. Also there was Bran, Alec and Evander’s brother and the clan’s advisor. They were large, powerful, good-looking men, as were all the Mackintosh men, it seemed to Agnes. Their respective wives, Kira and Ilyssa, had taken off their shoes and were dancing on the grass nearby to the harp music, giggling and looking rather tipsy.

“Ach, they look so pretty, eh, Conrad, like flowers in their beautiful dresses,” Agnes observed, smiling and waving at them. They waved back merrily, both looking a little worse for wear. She liked them both enormously. Kira was funny and bold, while Illyssa was terribly mischievous and always dreaming up pranks to play on the men.

“Agnes, Conrad, come and join us,” Ilyssa called to them, waving them over.

“Aye, come and have a wee dance,” Kira said and hiccoughed. “Och, pardon me, ’tis that new wine from France ye’ve been plyin’ us with, Conrad. ’Tis a little too moorish if ye ken what I mean. I’m a wee bit tipsy, I think.” As if to prove it, she spun around and bumped into Illyssa, sending them both into paroxysms of laughter.

“Disgustin’ display of drunkenness,” Conrad complained. “I’m nae letting me wife consort with the likes of ye two. What sort of an example are ye setting fer the young folk?”

“A bad one, I hope,” Ilyssa said laughingly. “They should grow up learnin’ how tae have a little fun. What is this wine ye’ve given us, Conrad? I declare, it’s gone straight tae me head. I think I’ll have another wee glass of the stuff.”

“’Tis a new import from the region of Champagne in France. I’m interested tae hear what ye all think of it, seein’ as ’tis our new family venture,” Conrad replied before flicking his eyes at the servant manning the drinks and holding up four fingers. The man nodded and hurried to pour.

“Well, I love it,” Kira said. “It makes me wantae dance.”

The fresh champagne arrived and the four stood chatting for a few minutes. Another of Conrad’s cousins, Lavinia, a delicate but feisty blue-eyed beauty, and her husband Ian, Laird MacBean came to join them with their son Archibald. The MacBean’s and the Mackintoshes had long been allies and friends, and growing up, Conrad had spent a lot of time with Ian. Conrad and Agnes continued the stroll, taking their wine with them.

Not far away, Conrad’s beautiful Aunt Catreena, known as the ice maiden because of her stunning Nordic looks, was dancing in a clinch with her husband, Illyssa’s brother Tad, Laird MacBean. Tad’s large frame and fearsome dark looks were the perfect contrast to the slender Catreena’s icy, blondeness, which concealed a warm, generous heart. She and Illyssa were best friends, and she often laughingly complained that Illyssa led her astray and got her into trouble.

At that moment, the excited shrieks of what sounded like a horde of children grew suddenly louder, and they burst out onto the lawn from some shrubbery. There were nine children in all, with the birthday girl being the eldest at ten. Going on twenty, Conrad often teased her. They adored each other and of all their three children, she most resembled her father. Their youngest, little Rhiannon, was only two. She was having nap back at the castle under Saoirse’s watchful eye.

At the head of the explosion of children was Conrad’s Uncle Dunn, sporting a wide grin and carrying on his broad shoulders Agnes’ and Conrad’s three-year-old son, Sullivan, named after his great-great grandfather.

Dunn was the clan’s chief scout and, though quite scary to look at, was full of fun. Whenever the family got together, he was always the one organizing the games that kept the children entertained. They loved him and as far as they were concerned any party without him was a disappointment.

Now, he came trotting over the grass, holding onto Sullivan’s fat little legs, while the lad shouted and laughed merrily. “Gee up, horsey,” he cried happily, tugging on his uncle’s ears.

Dunn saw them and made an agonized face, as if fearing their son would pull his ears right off, which set them both giggling.

The tribe of high-spirited children scattered over the lawn, noisily engrossed in their games, or rushed to the tea table to top up on treats or lemonade. Their parents smiled on them indulgently, perhaps under the benign influence of the champagne they had all being drinking.

Coming at a more leisurely pace behind the others was Elayne, Dunn’s lovely young wife. At seven months pregnant with their second child, she was glowing. Like Dunn, she adored children. “I cannae wait tae have a whole tribe of them,” she was fond of saying. And Dunn would always make them laugh by saying he was going as fast as he could but would be happy to step up production if it pleased her.

Holding Elayne’s hand was Roisin herself, in her new, white, broderie-Anglaise party dress, of which she was mightily proud. Today, she had insisted on Soairse doing her hair in a plaited crown, like Mary Queen of Scots, she said. She was a very happy girl, because that morning, she had been presented her very own pony, a little piebald mare she had immediately christened Patches.

“Och, she looks quite the wee lady, eh, Conrad?” Agnes said proudly, waving at her daughter.

“Aye, she daes, but I’d prefer it if she stayed at ten. Ten is old enough. I dinnae want her tae grow up. I wantae keep me sweet Little Flower sweet fer as long as I can.”

“Och, ye great soft thing,” Agnes said affectionately, pulling him down to kiss his lips. “But aye, ’tis sad that they grow up so quick,” Agnes said wistfully. “I suppose there’s only one solution tae that problem.”

“Oh, aye? What’s that then?” Conrad asked.

“Why, keep on havin’ more of them, of course.” She gave him a smile that said she had a secret.

His eyes widened. “Nay,” he said, halting them on the spot.

“Aye.”

He gave a great whoop and seized her around the waist, lifting her off her feet and whirling her about until she begged him to stop because it was making her dizzy. Carefully he placed her on her feet. She grabbed at his arm, her head spinning.

“When’s it gonnae arrive?” he asked, putting his arm around her shoulders to steady her, pulling her close as they resumed the walk.

“Around Hogmanay, the healer thinks,” she replied, thrilled by his reaction.

They reached a stone bench in an alcove cut into the high box hedge. It was a suntrap, so they decided to sit down. Conrad crossed his legs and put his arm around Agnes. She leaned against him happily, her hand resting on his thigh.

“So, what d’ye think of this wine?” he asked, holding the crystal glass up to the light and admiring the pale golden liquid. He had recently formed a business importing the wine from the Champagne region of France, in exchange for the single malt whisky he produced in the distillery he had constructed in the castle. It was proving most profitable.

“’Tis delicious but it goes tae me head real quick. It makes me feel quite… frisky,” Agnes confessed with a twinkle in her eye.

Conrad quirked his brows. “Daes it now? That’s very interestin’. I may havetae dae some further research intae that aspect of it.”

“I’m sure ye will,” she replied. They sat quietly for a few moments, bathed in mutual contentment, sipping their champagne and looking out over the happy children and the entire Mackintosh clan. Agnes was enormously proud of her family. She loved being a part of it. And so did Roisin, for she had so many cousins to play with and was never lonely.

“Aye, the Mackintoshes are quite an impressive lot,” she mused.

“Aye, nae a bad bunch, I suppose,” Conrad agreed with a nod. “But personally, I find a certain MacDonald more tae me taste.”

“Oh? Who d’ye mean?” she asked coquettishly.

In response, he bent down and pressed his lips to her decolletage, sucking on the skin gently and grazing it with his teeth.

“Oooh,” Agnes tittered excitedly. “I’m feelin’ even more frisky now.”

He shook his head. “Woman, curb yersel’. This is nae the place and time. We’re at our daughter’s birthday party. Much as I’d like tae drag ye behind a bush and ravish ye, it wouldnae be proper.”

“Well, we’re nae the only ones. Look at Bran and Illyssa.”

Conrad looked and burst out laughing. His uncle was in a clinch with his wife and was slowly dancing her into some flowering bushes, obviously with nefarious intentions.

“And the others are nae much better,” Agnes pointed out. And indeed she was right, for all the elder Mackintoshes were dancing now. Alec and Kira were welded together and kissing, Tad was spinning Catreena about under his arm. As they watched, she fell into his arms, and he peppered her neck with small kisses. Even Dunn and Elayne, who were sitting with the children, were mooning at each other.

Conrad held up his glass again and examined the champagne. “It certainly daes see tae have an effect,” he said ponderingly. “Drink up, wifey.” He swallowed the last of his wine and stood up, putting the glass on the bench and then giving Agnes his hand. She followed suit and placed her glass next to his on the bench.

“Where are we goin’?” she asked as he steered them down a little path through the box hedge, away from the party area.

“Foe a wee walk. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere where I can show ye how much I love ye in private.”

“Show me?” she asked, her pulse starting to race.

“Aye. We Mackintosh men are nae always so good with words. But were very good at action.”

“Conrad, the way ye’re talkin’, I’m thinkin’ that ye’re feelin’ frisky as well,” she said playfully, looking up at him with an adoring smile. “’Tis that French champagne I tell ye!”

“Nay. ’tis ye, Agnes, me beautiful wife. Mo Ròisín. I love ye so much, and ye’ve given me a happiness I never dreamed could be mine. I want tae show ye me appreciation.”

“Och, I love ye with all me heart too, me darlin’ man, forever and ever.”

“Grand, I’ll never get tired of hearin’ ye say that.”

She screamed with laughter as he suddenly scooped her up in his arms and carried her off down the pathways, in search of that quiet place where they could show each other the deep enduring love they shared.

The End.

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