Choosing the Highlander (37 page)

History was unfolding before her eyes. How extraordinary!

Leslie, I wish you could see this. I wish you were here with me.
 

“I wish I’d spent more time with your ‘travel guide’ so I’d ken how to advise the master mason.” Wilhelm nodded in the direction of Terran and the unfamiliar man.

Thinking of Gravois and his casual acceptance of time’s peculiarities, she said, “I have a feeling that whatever you and the master mason come up with will be absolutely perfect.”

“Not just him and me, love,” he said, taking her hand kissing her palm. “I happen to ken of a woman who has vast experience with ‘systems’ for heating and handling water. I was hoping she would provide some guidance to help make our home one of the most modern and comfortable castles in Scotia. Do you suppose this woman would be amenable to inclusion on the ‘design team’?”

Since Wilhelm had brought her home and introduced her to his family, she’d thrown herself into learning everything she could from Gormlaith on how to be a productive woman in the fifteenth-century Highlands. From gardening and housekeeping practices to learning how to nurse hotheaded warriors to writing letters and documents using phrasings and spellings and penmanship of the time, there had been no end of work and education for Connie to apply herself to. But she’d missed engineering. There had been precious little problem solving for her to undertake, leaving a small snag in her happiness.

Wilhelm had just presented her an opportunity to become useful in a new and even more fulfilling way. This man knew her so well. He’d known she needed this.

“I think she would be honored,” she said, holding back tears of joy.

Epilogue

Wilhelm’s hand shook and he reached to take the bundle from his wife.

“Support his head—yes, just like that.” Her bonny smile erased his worry over the agony he’d witnessed her suffer the last several hours.

No amount of weariness from being awake all night and helping her through the birth could temper his joy as his arms took the weight of his newborn son. Blue eyes blinked up at him from a perfect pink face, and he knew a different kind of love.

How many ways had he learned to love since his Constant Rose had come into his life? Thousands, it seemed. Yet here was one more. This kind hit him deep in the gut. It pulled on the connection he felt with his wife as if the three of them were now joined where there had previously been only two.

“He’s heavier than I imagined,” he said. “Sturdier.”

“I’m sure he’ll be a fine warrior like his father,” Constance said. She smiled at him from her still reddened face.

She looked completely drained of energy but completely happy as well. Her beauty came in as many forms as did his love for her. After what she’d gone through to deliver their son, he had a new depth of respect for her strength and determination. This woman never ceased to amaze him.

“You can cuddle him, you know,” she said. “He won’t break.”

“
Och,
I should ken as much.” He’d held Anice many times, but there was somat different about holding his own child.

Feeling like the most blessed man in the world, he tightened grip, bringing his son to his chest. It seemed natural to brush kisses over his smooth forehead. He smelled of the heather-scented powder he’d been covered in to protect his fragile skin against the wool blanket the midwife had wrapped him in.

Fine whitish hair dusted his skin, an interesting contrast to the dark hair on his head. He would take after his mother with her auburn locks, he guessed. The precious boy fit in his arms like the most welcome of burdens. ’Twas the sort of weight that brought balance and steadiness to a man, like a well-made axe.

“I love him already,” he said. “I think I’ve loved him since the moment we realized he was inside you.” Sitting on the bed, he leaned in to kiss his wife. This put their bairn safe between them.

He had a family. And in a year’s time, they would have rooms fit for dwelling in the castle being constructed. The mines had brought wealth to their clan that had staggered Wilhelm. He’d not been prepared for the riches that had flowed into his father’s coffers as demand for their rare marble soared. Even King James had ordered the stuff, enough to construct an entire hearth for a royal fireplace at Stirling.

All the wondrous changes in his life had come about because of his Constant Rose.

“I love him too,” she said. “And I love you. Always, my darling.”

“Always.”

How incredible to ken his ‘always’ began in a future time he could scarcely imagine.

“I think we should name him Wilhelm,” she said, making his chest swell with fatherly pride.

“Wilhelm Leslie,” he said.

“Wilhelm Leslie,” she repeated, her smile trembling. “Are you sure?”

“Aye, lass. We shall never forget where you came from. And all you sacrificed to be here with me.” He positioned himself on the bed so they could recline together on the pillows, all three of them. “Come, love. Rest with me. When we wake, I’ll fetch my parents. They’ll want to meet their first grandson.”

“
First
one?”

“Of course, lass. We’ll have a castle to fill up.”

“Wilhelm Murray, you’re going to have to learn to take one thing at a time.”

“Says the lass who had to be forced to her birthing bed because she had so many projects to finish before the bairn came.”

“All right. Maybe we both have some things to learn.”

“We’ll learn our whole lives.” He settled wee Wilhelm in the crook of his shoulder, where his mama could bury her nose against his soft cheek. “We’ll do it together.”

“We’re going to have a lovely life together,” she said, blinking up at him with drowsy eyes. “We’re going to be successful. But more importantly, we’re going to be happy.”

His truth sense shivered within him. No truer words had ever been spoken.