“I regret the loss of your violin. I know how important music is to you. You must continue with it.”
Alethia ran her hand over the smooth polished wood. “It’s lovely, thank you. Um…does it…is it…?”
Giselle disappeared once more to reveal her true identity. Áine laughed softly as she stood before them. “The harp holds no magic, child. Go now, live your lives in peace.” With that, she disappeared altogether.
“Let’s get out of here, Malcolm.”
“I’m right behind you, woman.”
EPILOGUE
October 1424
The entire clan waited with bated breath as Malcolm’s wife labored to give birth to their wee bairn. A collective sigh went up all over the island and across the loch in the village when the newborn’s wail could be heard. News that mother and child were well traveled swiftly from the island to shore.
At least, that was how it seemed to Malcolm. He knew his thoughts were fanciful. No matter. He smiled down at Hunter pacing beside him.
They both waited outside his chamber door, Hunter imitating his foster father’s actions right alongside him. His own mother had banned him from their chamber, and the midwife scolded him for upsetting True with his fretting. His heart had leaped with joy at the sound of his bairn’s first cry. At least his mother had the courtesy to inform him that his wife and child were well.
“Are we invited in to see the babe yet, lad?” William beamed as he approached.
“Nay, no’ yet. They are cleaning up first. I dinna think I can bear it much longer.”
“Da, Ma is fine.” Hunter tugged at his hand.
Malcolm tousled his hair. It still thrilled him to hear Hunter speak aloud. “I ken she is. Do you no’ wish to see your new sister, lad?”
“Aye.” Hunter grinned up at him.
Just then the door behind them opened. “You can come in now, but be quiet,” Lydia bid them. “True is quite exhausted.” She put her hand on Malcolm’s arm. “Your wee lassie is beautiful, Malcolm. Perfect in every way.” She opened the door wide for the MacKintosh men to enter.
Malcolm went to his wife’s side; their daughter lay cradled in her arms. True never looked more beautiful to him than she did at that moment. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Gently he sank down on the bed beside her while Hunter climbed up the other side. His mother and father stood together by the foot of their bed.
“Let me see her,” Malcolm said as he reached for his daughter. She made tiny noises as he unwrapped the swaddling blanket to see what their love had wrought. She had ten perfect toes, ten wee fingers, and dark downy hair covering her perfect little head. He couldn’t get enough, couldn’t take his eyes from her. Raising her up, he kissed her soft, warm head and cradled her next to his heart. Leaning over, he kissed his wife. Her expression was that of tired bliss. “What shall we call her?” he asked.
“I want to call her Sky, after my family name. You can choose the middle name.”
“What think you of Elizabeth, after my mother?” Lydia asked. “It has a nice ring to it. Sky Elizabeth of clan MacKintosh.”
“I like it.” She smiled.
“Hunter, do you wish to hold her?” Malcolm asked.
“Aye, if you please.”
“You must support her head, like this.” Malcolm demonstrated before wrapping her back up and placing her in his foster son’s waiting arms. He took True’s hand in his as they both watched Hunter gaze with wonder at Sky.
“Give her back to me, Hunter,” True said as Sky began to fuss. She held her arms out for her daughter, and Hunter scooted out of her reach, keeping a firm hold on his foster sister. “I’m going to marry her one day,” he said, not taking his eyes off the baby in his lap.
Malcolm chuckled, taking the bairn from Hunter. “Mayhap you will, but not today, lad.” He handed his wee daughter to True, his chest full to bursting as he beheld those most dear in this world, content to the very depths of his soul.