Page 90 of The Highlander's Temporary Bride
Agnes laughed and put a hand on her cheek. “Yes, though we meant to save the news untilafterthe wedding. I—oh.” Emma had rushed over to hug her sister again. “You are even lovelier than I imagined. I am so glad to meet you, Emma.”
“I am so glad to meet you, Agnes.”
“Let me call for supper and drinks,” Grant said. “I think it’s going to be a long night.”
And it was, for the four of them stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, sharing stories, laughing, and realizing they were a united family.
As Emma sat there, with Grant’s arm wrapped around her, watching Leo light up with laughter at something Agnes said, and Agnes’s quick gestures and animated face, she wondered if this was what the Queen had intended after all.
Truly, who was I to doubt a queen’s wisdom?
She glanced at Grant, who caught her eyes and winked.
Thought I did take a detour along the way.
Eventually, when they could no longer hide their yawns, they all went to bed. But Emma had the sense that this was the first of many such nights, of wine and laughter, stories and friendship. She was glad to see something boyish and joyful blossom between Leo and Grant, something of their shared brotherhood-in-arms erasing the many years they had not seen each other.
Emma glanced back at her sister one last time, wondering if she should see her to her room, but she found her watching her.
Agnes blew her a kiss and mouthed,Go to bed.
And Emma stuck out her tongue, causing Agnes’s beautiful laugh to echo through the halls of Banrose Castle.
“It makes sense,” Grant whispered, glancing back and laughing.
“What does?”
“That ye are a twin,” he said, smiling at her. “Such beauty should be in abundance in this world.”
EPILOGUE
The Wells sistersstood together on the front steps of Banrose Castle as the carriage pulled in. Emma reached out and her cold fingers collided with another pair. She and Agnes exchanged a look of hilarity, then squeezed each other’s hands.
As Emma looked at her sister, warmth rolled over her heart, and that strange sense ofknowing.It wasn’t just that she was familiar, though more than one person had mixed them up since Agnes had arrived. It was a sense of linking, of not realizing something was missing until they’d been reunited.
Agnes smiled at her, bright and mischievous, her gaze filled with reassurance.
“It will be okay,” her sister whispered. “They only want to be reunited with you, Emma. To know that you are okay.”
“How do you know?” Emma whispered back as the horses drew to a stop and her heart began to beat too fast.
“I know,” Agnes said and looked to the carriage, with the familiar crest emblazoned on it. “They have missed you, terribly. And I think, in that, they also missed me. That’s why Mother came to Scotland.”
Emma shook her head, not sure she understood Agnes’s logic, but her sister had a deep, boundless compassion that often proved wise as any silver-haired old woman. She felt a burst of affection for her sister and yielding to impulse, laid her head on Agnes’s shoulder.
“I only wish we’d had more time together. Just the two of us.”
Agnes laughed softly. “Aye, me too.” Her cheek pressed against Emma’s hair as they waited for that carriage door to open. “But we’ll have more time. You will visit me often, and I shall visit you.” She paused. “After all, it’s not just us two, our husbands have grown quite fond of drinking, debating, gaming, jesting, and swordplay at unholy hours.”
“Sometimes all at once,” Emma said wryly, and a soft, huffed laugh came from behind her.
She lifted her head, meeting Agnes’s eyes, and then glanced back to see their husbands waiting behind them. Grant stood poised, his hands behind back, every inch the Laird of Banrose, while Leo lounged on the wall and shook his head.
“Oh,” Agnes said, and Emma turned back.
Her mother stood in the Banrose bailey, shaking from head to toe, and her hands at her mouth. There seemed to be a brighter touch of silver in her dark hair and her green eyes were filled with tears. Yet she also seemed to hold herself differently, her spine straighter and chin higher as she lowered her hands.
“Lavinia,” said a voice, and Emma felt a snap of rage.
