Page 28 of Highland Ghost

Chapter Eleven

The next day was the best day of Caitlin’s life. She had started out thinking that her betrothal to Ian MacBain was naught more than a misfortune, but now she realized what a blessing it truly was.

The great hall was decorated with colorful ribbons and dried heather, as well as all the carved gourds used from the All Hallows’ Eve festivities. The gourds were lit up by candles inside, just for extra protection to make sure no evil spirits were still hanging around.

Caitlin sat at the dais next to Ian. Matilda and North and their son Bram were on one side, while Kellina and Nash and their daughter, Robena sat on the other. Everyone was happy, and the sun shone in through the windows, lighting up the place brightly.

Ailbeart led the musicians in some lively music from the gallery. His flute playing had seemed to improve. Finn wanted to give Ailbeart the bagpipes as promised, but Ian didn’t think it was a good idea. He never wanted to hear bagpipes again.

After a feast of haggis, cockaleekie soup, skirlie, stuffed pheasant, fresh bread, sweetmeats and three types of cheese, the meal had ended.

“Do ye want to dance?” Caitlin asked Ian. When she looked over at him, she saw a hungry look in his eyes that had nothing to do with food.

“I’d like to dance with ye, but no’ here.”

“Then where?” she asked playfully, knowing his answer.

“Come with me to our solar,” he said, standing up and taking her hand.

“But willna anyone miss us?” asked Caitlin.

“Sister, go,” whispered Kellina with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Well, all right.” Caitlin happily took Ian’s hand and they all but ran to the solar. After entering the room and barring the door, they fell on the bed, laughing.

“I still canna believe ye came back.” Ian brushed a strand of hair behind Caitlin’s ear.

“I still canna believe ye werena goin’ to tell me about the rest of the curse until ye were dead. Do ye really think the curse is broken?”

“I’m positive,” said Ian. “Ye heard Sylvia and Bernard just the same as I did.”

“Then the curse is really what killed yer parents and grandparents?” she asked.

“Curse, coincidence, I dinna ken. And right now, neither do I care. Now, are we goin’ to consummate the marriage or talk about the past?”

“Kiss me,” she said.

“Gladly.” Ian kissed her with so much passion that Caitlin had barely noticed that he’d pulled off her clothes. It didn’t take him long to undress either. Then with their naked bodies pressed together, they made love . . . as husband and wife.

“With any luck, nine months from now we’ll have a son or daughter,” said Ian, lying next to her, holding her possessively in his arms. “Do ye want a lad or a lass?”

Caitlin liked being married. She treasured having Ian as her husband, and knew their love would continue to grow the longer they were together. She was the wife of a Highland laird now, and nothing could feel better. “I want lots and lots of lads and lassies, both,” she told him.

“I do, too,” he admitted. “I think it is time we multiply the MacBain bloodline, and now there is no one to stop us. Do ye think ye’ll be happy livin’ here at Gowrie Castle, lass?”

She kissed him once more and answered with a wide smile. “I will be happy livin’ anywhere as long as it is with ye, Ian MacBain . . . and far, far away from any Highland Ghost.”

The End