An Auctioned Bride (Highland Heartbeats #4)(64)

“I am from Norway,” she told Maccay calmly. “And yes, he made me marry him.” Then she smiled. “And I am ever so glad that he did.” She reached for Hugh's hand, and he took it and gave it a squeeze.

Maccay shook his head, not quite understanding, but accepting. “And you thought I was the crazy one marrying a woman with no memory,” he muttered.

Hugh laughed. “Let's go to the house. Everyone there?”

“Everyone and then some,” Maccay said with a wink.

Hugh had very little time to wonder what he meant by that. Soon after they entered the manor house, Phillip and Jake laid their eyes on Hugh, welcoming him back with boisterous shouts of relief.

Their eyes widened when they saw Derek stride in behind his brother, and then the hall soon turned loud and full of laughter, with much clapping on the back, and shouts for a celebration. Agnes scurried out of the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about, took one look at Derek, and then squealed in delight, rushing toward him, arms open.

Derek bent down, lifted the woman into his arms and swung her around several times, eliciting more squeals of laughter.

“Ye devil, Derek! Oh, it does my heart good to see that you are alive and well.” She looked at Hugh and smiled. “The brothers are together again.” She turned to the laird. “I shall prepare a feast. A celebratory feast, yes?”

Phillip grinned and nodded, casting a curious gaze toward Dalla, but just about the time he broached a question, a baby's cry from the stairs leading to the second floor captured their attention.

Hugh glanced upward in surprise as Sarah came down the stairs, carrying the squalling baby in her arms, shaking her head with abject embarrassment.

She saw Hugh and squealed in delight, much as Agnes had, and hurried down the stairs.

Hugh, standing next to Dalla, could only stare at the tiny bundle in her arms, the infant's face red with emotion.

Hugh grinned and turned to Phillip. “Remind you of someone?”

Roars of laughter followed and abruptly, Sarah placed the infant in Hugh's arms. “Let's see if you can do something about this. She's got quite a set of lungs, and I can't seem to calm her down, and neither can Heather.”

Hugh uncomfortably cradled the baby in his arms, staring down at the red face, the tiny fists, the open mouth squalling for something. “Hush little one,” he grumbled. “I don't understand your language.”

“May I?”

All eyes turned to Dalla as she gave Sarah a questioning gaze, holding out her arms for the infant.

Without hesitation, Sarah nodded, and Hugh gratefully placed the screaming infant into her arms.

Lowering her head and singing so softly her voice almost whispered, Dalla began to sing a lullaby in her native language to the infant, much as she had sung to his horse.

Within moments, the baby's squalling reduced in volume, then to a few hiccups, and then quiet wonder as she stared up at the face hovering above her.

Everyone stared at Dalla, but she gazed down at the infant, unmindful of the multiple pairs of eyes on her.

Hugh swallowed and then made the announcement.

“Laird Phillip, Jake, Sarah, this is my wife, Dalla.”

In the midst of congratulations, another young woman emerged from upstairs, her belly slightly round with child. “Hugh! You're back!”

Heather flew down the stairs and flung herself into Hugh's arms, then only then noticed Dalla staring at her with open-faced curiosity.

“Hello,” she said with a slight flush in her cheeks at her behavior.

Dalla nodded.

“You are Hugh's wife?” Again, Dalla nodded. Heather placed her hands on her shoulders. “Well then, welcome to the Duncan clan.”

Hugh wanted the explanations done and over with. He stated the facts quickly and bluntly. “I bought Dalla on the coastline. She's Norwegian. I made her sign a paper marrying us, and she is my wife.” He glanced at Dalla, holding the now quiet baby, rocking softly back and forth. “And I love her.”

Dalla looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears. Then she turned to those gathered around him. “And I love Hugh as well. And if you'll have me, I too will consider myself a member of the Duncan clan.”

Over dinner, the entire story was told.

Then the attention turned to Sarah, calmly holding her baby as she sat by Phillip, gazing at Hugh and Dalla with a sense of satisfaction. Finally, she spoke. “It's about time you found yourself a bride, Hugh. You will make a good match.”

“What's the baby's name?” Dalla asked.

Sarah glanced at Hugh, then Derek, then down at her little girl, then back at Hugh. “I named her after someone very near and dear to the Duncan clan, and most especially to Hugh and his brother. Someone I never had the honor to meet. In loving memory and in the hopes of dreams to come. Her name is Mary. After their mother.”

Hugh stared at Sarah, swallowing past the lump suddenly growing in his throat. Finally, he spoke. “Thank you, Sarah. It is a good name for your firstborn. Congratulations.” He turned to Jake and Heather. “Soon, little ones will be taking over the manor house,” he commented. He looked at Phillip. “And what have you to say about that, Phillip?”

Phillip shrugged. “The more, the merrier!”

Everyone laughed, and then the attention turned to Derek. Phillip spoke, his tone somber. “We've missed you, Derek. It's good to have you back on Duncan lands again. How long can you stay?”