She told him everything.

The retelling of all that had happened to Madelyne took almost two full days. The dear priest demanded to hear every word, every feeling, every outcome.

Father Berton had wept tears of joy when Madelyne walked into his tiny cottage. He admitted he'd missed her terribly and couldn't seem to gain control of his emotions for most of that first day. Madelyne, of course, did a fair amount of weeping too. Her uncle declared that it was fine enough to be so undisciplined because they were all alone, after all, and no one could witness their emotional display. Father's companions were off to visit another old friend who'd suddenly taken ill.

It wasn't until she'd prepared their supper and they were seated side by side in their favorite chairs that Madelyne was finally able to begin her recitation. While the priest ate his dinner, Madelyne told her story. She thought only to give her uncle Berton a brief summary, but he wouldn't allow a skimpy accounting.

The priest seemed to savor every detail. He wouldn't let Madelyne continue until he'd memorized each word. His training as both a translator and a guardian of the old stories was the reason Madelyne gave for this familiar peculiarity.

When Madelyne first greeted her uncle, she began to worry about his health. He seemed to be failing. Aye, she thought his shoulders slumped a little more now. His back appeared to be a bit more bent, too, and he didn't seem to move about the cottage as quickly. Yet his gaze was just as direct, his comments just as sharp. Father Berton's mind was as keen as ever. When he confessed that his companions wouldn't be returning to live out their last years with him, Madelyne surmised it was loneliness and not his advanced years of fifty summers that accounted for the changes she'd noted.

Madelyne was confident Duncan would come for her. Yet when three full days had passed, and still not a sign of Duncan, her confidence began to evaporate.

Madelyne admitted her fears to her uncle. "Perhaps, once he was again acquainted with Lady Eleanor, he changed his mind."

"'Tis foolish talk you're giving me," Father Berton announced. "I've as much faith as you, child, that Baron Wexton didn't know Laurance wasn't a priest. He thought he'd married you, and for a man to take such a step, there'd be a true commitment in his heart. You've told me his declaration of love. Have you no faith in his word then?"

"Oh, of course I do," Madelyne returned. "He does love me, Father. I know he does, inside my heart, yet a part of my mind does try to make me worry. I awakened during the night and my first thought was a frightening one. I asked myself what I would do if he doesn't come for me. What if he did change his mind?"

"Then he be a fool," Father Berton answered. A sparkle appeared in the priest's eyes. "Now tell this old man again, child, what were your very words to Lady Eleanor with the pretty red hair and the regal bearing?"

Madelyne smiled over the way he teased her with her own description of Lady Eleanor. "I told her I was Duncan 's greatest treasure. It wasn't a very humble remark, was it?"

"You spoke the truth, Madelyne. Your heart knows it well enough, but I'm agreeing there's a wee portion of your mind that needs some convincing."

" Duncan isn't a fool," Madelyne said then. Her voice was firm with conviction. "He won't forget me." She closed her eyes and rested her head against the cushion on the back of the chair. So much had happened to her in such a short time. Now, as she sat beside her uncle, it seemed as though nothing had really changed at all.

The old fears were trying to get the better of her. She'd soon be weeping and feeling pity for herself if she didn't guard against it. Madelyne decided she needed rest. Aye, it was only because she was so exhausted that she tended to worry now. "I do have value," she blurted out. "Why has it taken me so long to know it?"

"It doesn't matter how long it took," her uncle said. "What's important is that you've finally realized it."

The rumble of thunder drew her uncle's attention. "Sounds as though we'll be having a good rain in a few minutes," he remarked as he stood and started for the window.

"Thunder's close enough to pull the roof apart," Madelyne remarked, her voice a sleepy whisper.

Father Berton was about to agree with his niece's comment when he reached the window and looked outside. The sight he beheld so startled him, he had to brace his hands against the window's ledge, else lose his balance and surely collapse to his knees.

The thunder was silent now. But Father could see the lightning. It wasn't in the sky though. Nay, it was on the ground… for as far as his eyes could see.

The sun forced the pretense, deflecting the shards of silver bolts as they bounced from chest plate to chest plate.

A legion it be, united behind one warrior, all armored, all quiet, all waiting.

Father squinted against the magnificent sight. He nodded once to the soldier's leader and then turned to walk back to his chair.

A wide smile transformed the old priest's face. When he was again seated beside Madelyne, he forced his smile aside, dared to affect a disgruntled sound to his voice, and said, "I believe there's someone here to see you, Madelyne. Best see who it be, child. I'm too weary to get up again."

Madelyne frowned over his request. She hadn't heard anyone knock on their door. As a measure to placate him, she stood up to do his bidding. She remarked over her shoulder that she supposed it could be Marta paying a call to give them fresh eggs and old gossip.

The priest gained such a chuckle over her comment, he actually slapped his knee.

She thought it was a strange reaction from a man who'd just protested weariness.

And then she opened the door.

It took a minute or two for Madelyne to comprehend what she was seeing. She was so astonished, she couldn't move. She simply stood there, in the center of the doorway, with her hands clenched at her sides, staring up at Duncan.

He hadn't forgotten her after all. The realization settled in Madelyne's mind once the numbness had worn through.

He wasn't alone either. Nay, over a hundred soldiers were lined up behind their lord. All were still on horseback, all were wearing their full glorious battle armor, and every one of them was looking at her.

A silent signal brushed through the legion. As one, they suddenly raised their swords in salutation. It was the most magnificent show of loyalty Madelyne had ever witnessed.

She was overwhelmed. Madelyne had never felt so cherished, so loved, and so very, very worthy.

And then she understood the reason Duncan had called up so many of his soldiers to make this journey. He was showing her how important she was to him. Aye, he was proving her value.

Duncan didn't move. He didn't say a word for a long time. He was content to stay on Silenus's back and look upon his beautiful wife. Duncan could feel his worry, his uncertainty, ebb from his heart. God's truth, he thought he was the most content man in all the world.

When he noticed the tears streaming down Madelyne's face, he finally gave her the words he thought she needed to hear. "I've come for you, Madelyne."

Was it coincidence that Duncan now repeated the very first words he'd ever spoken to her? Madelyne didn't think so. The look in Duncan 's eyes made her believe he did remember.

Madelyne straightened away from the door, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and then very deliberately put her hands on her hips. " 'Tis high time, Baron Wexton. I have waited the longest while for you."