His heart pounding with excitement, Torrin pushed up from his chair and, using his walking stick, limped toward the area in front of the decorated fireplace where the wedding was to take place. He ground his teeth, determined to ignore the stabbing pains in his leg. Reverend MacPherson joined him and Iain.

Dirk emerged from the narrow stairwell, stepped aside, and Jessie appeared next. Saints, she was more beautiful than Torrin had ever seen her. Her fiery hair was down upon her shoulders, and the braids woven through with wee flowers. The blue gown hugged her slender curves. Again, he was overjoyed that she carried his bairn, though no one would guess by looking at her.

Her bright blue eyes held his, her love written clearly on her face, as her brother escorted her toward them. When she took his hand, she smiled, tears welling in her eyes.

"Don't cry," he whispered quiet as a breath. Because if she cried, he might be tempted to do so himself. And a chief simply couldn't cry before his clan.

He kissed her hand, then held it while Reverend MacPherson began the ceremony. Torrin heard a word here and there, enough to know that 'twas indeed a marriage ceremony, but the main focus of his attention was Jessie. She nervously glanced at him from time to time.

"You are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give you my body, that we two might be one. I give you my spirit, 'til our life shall be done." Looking into her eyes, he repeated the rest of the vow after the minister.

As she said her vows, he listened to every word. Though 'twas the standard Gaelic vows, he knew she meant them with all her heart.

When it was time for the ring, he pulled the circle of gold from his sporran. He'd had it specially made for Jessie in the spring, when he'd become determined that he would marry her. The gold band was encrusted with several sapphires, rubies, and emeralds.

When he slid it onto her finger, she gasped, her eyes widening. 'Twas indeed a lovely ring that reminded him of her colorful beauty.

"With this ring, I thee wed," Torrin said. "With my body, I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

Jessie smiled and tears glistened in her eyes.

"Chief MacLeod, you may kiss your bride to seal the vows," the minister announced.

Finally, they were married. Torrin smiled and leaned down to kiss Jessie. Her lips were warm, sweet and welcoming beneath his.

A cheer went up loud enough to rattle the rafters. Jessie pulled back and laughed. Grinning, he pulled her close and kissed her again.

"You'll have to heal quickly, Chief, if you're to give your bride a proper wedding night," Struan said, giving rise to lots of laughter from the rest of the men.

Torrin grinned, knowing a secret they didn't. Jessie didn't mind doing some of the work. "Don't you worry about that. She'll enjoy the wedding night."

Epilogue

Munrick Castle, April, 1620

Jessie held their newborn babe, wee Liam, in her arms. He'd just finished eating and was snoozing peacefully, his tiny hand clasped around her finger.

"He's such a strong and fine-looking lad, Jessie," Torrin whispered, sitting beside her on the padded settle near the fireplace in their bedchamber, while a spring snowstorm raged outside. Torrin slid his arm around her and kissed her cheek.

She nodded. "He is. He favors his father, you ken." 'Twas true; the babe had Torrin's dark hair and green eyes and most of his features. Jessie was thankful that Torrin had healed from all of his injuries and was now as strong as he had been before. He trained with the other men most every day, when the weather permitted.

"Our next one will look exactly like you, with beautiful flaming red hair and sky blue eyes," he said.

"Mayhap." She smiled, imagining a wee lad or lass who resembled her, but if they all looked like Torrin, she would be just as thrilled and grateful.

Dirk and Isobel had sent a missive a few weeks before, saying that their babe had been born and 'twas a healthy lad. Keegan's and Seona's bairn had been born four days afterward, a beautiful lass. Jessie couldn't wait until the summer when she could see them all again.

Greum got up from where he'd been sleeping by the hearth and padded closer. The pup had grown by leaps and bounds since last summer and was now near up to Jessie's waist. Greum sniffed the babe's head, then gave Jessie a look filled with doggie love.

"I know you love him, too, Greum. Don't you?"

He sat back on his haunches, panting, his long pink tongue lolling and a grin on his furry lips.

"He can't wait to play with the lad," Torrin said.

"'Twill be a while. He's ten times bigger than Liam."

Torrin chuckled. "In a year or two, he'll be trying to ride Greum like a horse."

Jessie laughed at that image, though not too loudly, for she didn't want to wake the babe.

After their laughter had quieted into a comfortable silence, Torrin asked, "Do you ken how happy you make me?"

Taking in his delighted and proud expression, she realized once again that her dreams had come true. Tears filled her eyes. "Not as happy as you make me," she said.

"Och. Far happier." He leaned close and kissed her. "I love you."

"And I love you."

***

Please look for My Rebel Highlander (Rebbie's story) coming in 2014.

***

The Highland Adventure Series

My Fierce Highlander (Alasdair and Gwyneth)

My Wild Highlander (Lachlan and Angelique)

My Brave Highlander (Dirk and Isobel)

My Daring Highlander (Keegan and Seona)

My Notorious Highlander (Torrin and Jessie)

About the author

Vonda Sinclair’s favorite indulgent pastime is exploring Scotland, from Edinburgh to the untamed and windblown north coast. She also enjoys creating hot, Highland heroes and spirited lasses to drive them mad. Her books have won an EPIC Award and a National Readers' Choice Award. She lives with her amazing and supportive husband in the mountains of North Carolina where she is no doubt creating another Scottish story. Please visit her website to learn more.

http://www.vondasinclair.com

Author's Note

Donald McMurdo was a real highwayman and assassin who resided in Durness. He died in 1623 and was buried in Balnakeil Church.