Several months had passed, and summer had finally come to Craigmorrow.

The longest day of the year had arrived in a blaze of gold, the hills beyond the windows washed in sunlight that seemed reluctant to surrender to evening. The gardens were heavy with roses, the lawns bright with laughter, and every window of the house stood open to the warm Highland air.

For once, Craigmorrow felt entirely at peace.

The sisters had decided that such a thing ought to be celebrated.

And so, by the time Moray descended the staircase that evening, the house had been transformed. Candles flickered in every room, ribbons hung from the banisters, flowers crowded the tables, and musicians were beginning to tune their instruments in the ballroom.

Moray paused at the door of Elspeth’s chambers.

Elspeth was sitting before a mirror, entirely absorbed in the business of adjusting the final black feathers on her mask.

He stared at her for a moment before bursting out in laughter. 

Elspeth’s eyes met his reflection in the glass.

“And just what do ye find so amusing?” She glared at him, her eyes barely visible beneath her mask. She had chosen quite an elaborate costume that hid her identity well. 

“Nothing.” He held up his hands in surrender. His own costume was similar to the one that he had worn on the night he had met Odette. Nothing too fancy save for a plain blue mask and a matching coat. 

“That is clearly not true.” Elspeth seemed offended as she rose to her feet and faced him. She looked even more comical now that he spotted the black feathers hanging from her arms. 

Moray folded his arms. “If ye must ken, it is the summer solstice, Elspeth, nae a Highland funeral.” 

She returned her attention to the mask and looked at her reflection. “I am a crow…Crows are black.” 

“I can see that.” Moray conceded. 

Elspeth seemed unperturbed by his tone. “I rather like it.” 

“I can also see that.” He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled.

She carefully pushed another feather into place. “Crows are clever.”

Moray raised an eyebrow. 

“They are loyal,” she continued.

“I am certain that will reassure our guests.” He attempted to hide his amusement. 

She still seemed utterly unperturbed by what he was saying. “And they are harder to kill than swans.” 

Moray tilted his head to the side in question as he stared at her. “Were ye thinking that ye needed protection this evening?” 

Elspeth finally turned her head and fixed him with a look of such solemn determination that he had to bite back another laugh.

“I will hear nay more of yer teasing. This is the costume that I have chosen, and this is the costume that I shall wear.” She lifted her chin defiantly in the air. 

Raising his hands in surrender, Moray took a step back. “I shall say nay more.” 

“Good.” Elspeth nodded, her feathers ruffling slightly as she moved. 

Moray considered her for a moment, unable to keep his teasing to himself. “I was merely going to suggest that perhaps a white mask might be more appropriate for a summer ball.” 

“Ye may suggest it to someone who cares.” She nodded once with determination. 

“Clearly, that is nae ye.” His eyes danced with amusement as he watched her. 

“Clearly.” She agreed. 

The transformation in his cousin was something he had noticed slowly over the past months. There had been a time when Elspeth had carried herself as though every shadow concealed a danger. Now there was mischief in her eyes, laughter in her voice, and an ease in her movements that had once seemed impossible.

He glanced toward the open doors leading into the garden.

Beyond them, the last of the afternoon sunlight rested on the roses. 

Moray turned his gaze back to her, and Elspeth was looking at him with a curious glance. 

“Have ye heard anything else about Lieutenant Heartwell?” She placed her hands on her hips, making her feathers rustle again. 

He nodded. “I wrote to the magistrate’s office a few days ago, and they sent word that he has been transferred to London’s largest prison, Newgate. He will be there for the rest of his life, unless they decide to extradite him to another country.” 

Elspeth chewed the inside of her cheek. “Good, I am glad. He should spend the rest of his life in prison. 

“And ye.” Moray regarded her for a moment. “Do ye ever think that perhaps we should press charges against yer husband? End the matter once and for all?” 

She shook her head, her eyes still gleaming with determination. “Nay, I think the matter is best left where it is. If he ever dares show his face ever again, then I shall take the matter to the magistrate, but for now, I daenae see why anything should change.” 

“Very well then.” Moray decided not to argue. “I shall leave ye to it then.” He turned away from her and began to make his way through the house. 

Moray had barely crossed the threshold of the drawing room when he heard Hermione’s voice.

“And therefore, my dear girls, we have decided that it would be far more sensible to remain in London until the child is born…” Hermione stopped reading and looked up.

She was stretched along the sofa with her feet comfortably elevated on a velvet footstool, a letter held in one hand. Her other hand rested protectively over the considerable swell of her stomach. At six months, she had reached the stage where every movement was accompanied by a small adjustment of her position.

Niall sat on the carpet at her feet, fitting the final pieces of his mask together.

Moray looked from one to the other. “Ye appear to have made yerselves very comfortable.”

Hermione smiled sweetly. “I have been ordered to.”

Niall did not look up from his mask. “Ye have been ordered to do considerably less than ye are currently doing.”

“I am reading a letter.” She rolled her eyes, yet the sweet smile remained on her lips. 

Looking up, Niall fixed her with a serious look. “Which is strenuous.”

Hermione sighed. “From our parents,” she continued, lifting the letter again. “They are planning to visit once the baby is born.”

Moray leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are they now?”

She nodded. “They say they cannot possibly remain away any longer,” Hermione said. “Apparently Mother has already begun choosing gowns for the journey.”

“That sounds like her.” Moray scoffed, yet he bore no ill-will toward the mother of his wife. In fact, he had cherished the fact that she and Odette had mended fences right before the wedding. 

Hermione continued, running her hand over her belly. “She also says that Father is delighted to become a grandfather again.”

Niall finally looked up at Moray, his eyes filled with anguish. “He will be unbearable.”

Moray was still smiling when the sound of footsteps came from the hall.

Odette appeared in the doorway with Ian balanced securely on her hip.

The baby immediately stretched both hands toward the nearest object within reach, which happened to be a vase.

“Not that,” Odette said, shifting him away.

Ian protested, his lower lip wobbling. 

She gave them all an apologetic look. “He has discovered that everything belongs to him,” she explained.

“He is a Callander,” Moray said with pride. 

Odette smiled.

Ian spotted his father and his entire face brightened.

“Da…” He began, but faltered. 

Moray’s expression softened instantly. He crossed the room and held out his arms. “Come here, ye wee menace.”

“Oh!” Odette surrendered him with a laugh, her face beaming with joy. 

The moment Ian was settled against Moray’s chest, his little hands went straight for the blue mask hanging from his father’s fingers.

Catching his wrist just in time, Moray gently held him at bay. “Nay. That is mine.”

Ian made an indignant sound and pouted, puffing out his little cheeks as a frown curved his lips. 

“He has been trying to pull himself upright against every chair in the house,” Odette explained. “He nearly brought down the table at luncheon.”

Moray kissed the top of his son’s head. “Aye. That sounds like my boy.”

Ian reached for his father’s face instead, placing his chubby little fists against Moray’s cheeks.

Moray allowed the tiny fingers to curl around his nose before kissing him again.

For a moment, the noise of the house seemed to fall away.

This was what Craigmorrow had become. Laughter. Children. Music. Open windows. A home.

“I am going upstairs to change,” Moray said reluctantly.

“Do not be long,” Odette replied. “The musicians are nearly ready.”

Moray handed Ian back to her and kissed Odette lightly before turning toward the hall.

He had reached the terrace doors when Elspeth appeared behind him.

“Yer Grace,” she spoke softly. 

He turned.

She was still wearing her crow mask, the black feathers making her look more dramatic than she had any right to.

“What is it?” he searched her face in case anything was wrong. 

She folded her arms. “My great misfortune today,” she announced, “is that the horse expert from the Borders is meant to arrive this afternoon.”

Moray frowned. “The horse expert?”

“Aye.” She answered as if he should know exactly why she was exasperated. 

“And?” He raised his brows. 

“He will arrive to discuss the breeding of the estate horses.” She still seemed a little impatient. 

Waiting, Moray began to tap his foot as his exasperation grew. “Elspeth, is something the matter? Why is it important that the man arrives today?” 

Elspeth looked down at herself. “I shall be dressed as a crow, and wearing a mask.”

“Aye.” He nodded. That all made perfect sense to him; what did not make sense was why she was suddenly realizing it, and why it was an issue. 

She gave an exasperated sigh. “I should have thought things through before we decided to host a masked ball on such an important day.” 

A grin slowly spread across Moray’s face.

Elspeth narrowed her eyes. “Daenae even say another word.” 

Moray held up his hands again in surrender. 

“Ye are thinking it,” she said accusingly. 

He could not help but laugh. “I am merely wondering what the good gentleman from the Borders will make of ye.”

“He will think I have lost my mind,” she complained. 

Laughing, Moray shook his head. “Perhaps he will be impressed.”

“With my excellent taste?” She perked up a little. 

“With yer courage,” he finished with a small laugh. 

Elspeth gave him a long, suspicious look. “Go and dress.”

Moray bowed.

“As my lady crow commands.” He bowed dramatically before turning to leave. 

She swatted at him with one feathered arm as he disappeared toward the staircase, laughing.

***

A few hours later, Moray stepped out onto the upper balcony, glad to escape the warmth and noise of the ballroom for a few minutes.

The night had deepened while the festivities continued. Beyond the balustrade, the gardens lay silvered beneath the moon, the roses pale in the darkness and the lawns disappearing into pools of shadow. Music drifted through the open doors behind him, softened by the summer air.

He rested both hands upon the stone railing and breathed deeply.

For perhaps the first time that evening, he was alone.

Or so he thought.

A movement caught his eye.

At the far end of the balcony, a figure stood in the shadows.

Moray straightened.

The man was dressed entirely in dark clothes. His back was turned, and in one hand he held a black mask.

A crow.

Moray’s eyebrows rose.

He had seen that costume before.

He was still wondering whether the evening had produced some strange epidemic when he heard another set of footsteps behind him.

Elspeth.

She stepped quietly through the doorway, one hand lifting the edge of her skirts as she moved into the darkness. She looked around, clearly seeking somewhere she could escape the noise for a few minutes. Then she saw the man. She stopped.

Moray watched her recognize the costume.

Her eyes widened. For one extraordinary second, she looked as though she might burst into laughter.

The man turned.

Elspeth recovered herself just in time. “I beg yer pardon,” she said apologetically.

The stranger smiled, his features indiscernible behind the mask. 

“I was about to say the same.” He breathed a sigh of relief, or what very much seemed like one. 

She glanced down at her own black feathers. Then at his mask. “Ye are another crow.”

“It would seem so.” He spoke in a very noticeable English accent.  “I had thought I was the only one.”

“So had I.” Elspeth pressed her lips together.

Moray, standing several yards away in the darkness, felt the beginnings of a grin.

Two black crows conversing on a balcony.

He folded his arms and watched on in amusement.

Elspeth seemed to be studying the gentleman now. “Do ye always wear a mask when ye are alone?”

“No.” He seemed a little confused at the question. 

She tilted her head to the side when he removed his mask, revealing light blonde hair and striking blue eyes. 

“I was just wondering why a man who came out for fresh air would still wear his mask.” She removed her own, revealing her black hair. 

The man seemed utterly impressed as he held his breath before speaking again. “I am sorry, but I do not think that I caught your name. I am Edward Harrington, Duke of Chairward.” 

Elspeth seemed to hold her own breath as she curtsied. “It is a pleasure to meet ye, Yer Grace. My apologies if I was forward. I am Elspeth Callander. I have been expecting a guest, and I thought that it may be ye.” She came up again, smiling. 

The corner of Edward’s mouth lifted into a smile. “I am afraid not, but did I hear you say that you are a Callander?” He seemed intrigued. 

Her head cocked to the side in curiosity. “I am.” 

He nodded vigorously. “I thought I heard you right. I am a good friend of Niall Callander. Is he your cousin by chance?” 

“He is my brother,” Elspeth said in a coy voice. 

“What a small world we live in after all. All of the years of knowing the man, and not once did he ever mention that he had such a beautiful sister.” 

Moray practically rolled his eyes from his position in the dark. It was only too easy to see what the man was trying to do. 

Elspeth seemed to be enjoying the attention. “I must confess, it is the very first time that I have heard yer name as well. Niall never mentioned that he had an English friend.” 

A comfortable understanding seemed to settle between them as he lifted his shoulders. “Perhaps he was conspiring to keep us apart.” 

“And why would that be, Yer Grace? Does trouble follow ye wherever ye go?” She turned up the charm, making Moray wish that he was not privy to what was happening. Out of all of the things that he had witnessed in the past, he never thought or ever wanted to be privy to his cousin’s flirting. 

Edward laughed. “I am afraid not. I lead a rather quiet life…Some would say boring even. It is truly a wonder that I even ended up here this evening, but Niall twisted my arm.” 

“Ah, so he is nae conspiring to keep us apart.” She laughed freely. 

The duke shrugged. “I guess the only way to know for certain is to see how he reacts to a dance.” He straightened and held out his arm. “Would you do me the honor?” 

She hesitated only for a moment before accepting. 

Moray watched from the shadows, wondering if he had just witnessed what promised to be the start of a very interesting love story. It was not until Odette, dressed in a pure white costume, stepped onto the terrace that he finally tore his eyes away from the pair. 

“Ye are looking mighty fine this evening, Yer Grace.” He lowered his voice as she shut the door behind her. 

She made her way toward him and threw her arms around his neck, seemingly not caring if anyone spotted them through the dark. “We have a habit of meeting on balconies, Your Grace.” She smiled at him, making him melt and forget everything that was going on around them. 

“Aye, that we do, lass.” He placed his arms around her waist. 

Odette stared into his eyes for a moment before leaning in and whispering in his ear. “In that case, allow me to make this moment all the more memorable for you…” 

For a moment, Moray thought that she would kiss him, but instead, she leaned back and shook her head. 

“Not yet, Your Grace. There is something that I must tell you.” 

He frowned for a moment. “Has Elspeth’s horse trainer arrived?” 

Looking at him with a frown, Odette cocked her head to the side. “I beg your pardon?” 

“Never mind.” Moray shook his head. “What did ye want to say?” 

Her frown gave way to a radiant smile as she leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “I am with child.” 

His chest clenched painfully with joy as she leaned back and gazed into her eyes. “Are ye sure?” 

She seemed thoughtful for a moment, but smiled as if she had been teasing him. “I was not, but the midwife is fairly certain that I am.” 

“I cannae believe it.” Moray was overcome as he lifted a hand and ran it through his hair. 

“Are you happy?” She tilted her head to the side. 

“Happy?” He could not believe that she would even ask him such a question. “I daenae think I have ever heard better news in my life.” He drew her against his chest, burying his face in her hair. 

Odette laughed softly against his chest.

“I hoped ye would say that.” Moray tightened his arms around her, still struggling to comprehend the enormity of what she had just told him. A child. Their child. He drew back enough to look at her. “When did ye ken?”

“Only recently.” She looked at him shyly, allowing the tips of her lashes to kiss her cheeks. 

“And ye didnae tell me?”

“I wanted to be certain.” She raised a hand and placed it against his chest. 

He shook his head, smiling helplessly. “Ye have been carrying this secret all evening?”

“Aye.” She mimicked his accent, smiling from ear to ear. 

“While I was worrying about Elspeth and her feathers?”

Odette’s smile widened. “You seemed very concerned about her.”

“Concerned?” Moray gave an incredulous laugh. “I was merely wondering whether the poor horse expert would survive the evening.”

She laughed again, and he found himself staring at her as though he had never seen anything so beautiful.

Then his expression softened.

“Odette.”

“Aye?” She mimicked him again, a habit she had developed the more time they had spent together. 

“Thank ye.”

She frowned slightly. “For what?”

“For giving me this.” His hand settled gently over hers. “I never thought I would have this,” he whispered. “A home. A family. You.”

Her eyes grew bright.

“Ye have all of those things already.”

“I ken.”

He kissed her forehead.

“But now there will be another.”

For several moments they simply stood together beneath the summer moon, listening to the music drifting from the ballroom.

Then Odette glanced toward the open doors. “Should we tell them?”

Moray followed her gaze.

Inside, Elspeth and Edward had disappeared into the dancers. Hermione sat comfortably on the sofa, one hand resting over her own growing child, while Niall stood beside her.

Moray smiled. “Not yet.”

Odette raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because I think I should enjoy having the secret for at least another few minutes.”

She laughed. “You are impossible.”

He pulled her in close again. “But not as impossible as the love that I feel for you. Truly, Odette, from the bottom of my heart, thank ye for everything that ye have done for me. I could not have imagined my life without ye. And this time, I hope we have a lass. I wouldnae want Ian to think that he was being replaced.”  

Odette stood on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for loving us both as if we were your own. I know it was not easy for you at first, but we are both truly blessed to be able to call you ours.” 

“I love the both of you truly, lass. All three of you now,” he said as he bent down to take his wife’s lips with his own. 

THE END