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Near the last day of June, fourteen months after he had raised his standard, Prince Charles landed near Mugston House on the Isle of Skye. He was disguised as the lady's maid of Flora MacDonald, a young woman who risked her life to travel with him and see him to safety.
He had missed capture by a hairbreadth, but had lost neither his ambition nor his eagerness. Nor had he lost his air of romance. He left Flora with a lock of his hair and the wish that they might meet again, at the Court of St. James. Brigham saw him briefly. They spoke as they had often spoken in the past, with ease and mutual respect. Charles did not, though the hope was in his heart, ask Brigham to join him on the journey to France.
"You will miss him," Serena said as they stood in their bedchamber at Mugston House.
"I will miss him as a man, and I will grieve for the loss of what might have been." He gathered her close, holding her newly slim body against his. "It was he and his cause that brought me to you. We did not win, Rena, but I have only to look at you, and my son, to know that neither did we lose." With his arm around her, he turned to look down at the child they had christened Daniel. "It is as your father said, love. It has not been for naught." He pressed his lips to hers, lingering over the kiss, drawing out the passion, the love and the trust. "Are you ready?"
With a nod, she picked up her traveling cloak. "If only Mother and Coll and Maggie would go with us."
"They need to stay, as we need to go." He waited as she gathered up the child. "You will have Gwen and Malcolm."
"I know. I only wish…"
"There will be a MacGregor in Glenroe again, Serena. And we will come back."
She looked at him. The sun was streaming through the window at his back. He was as he had been when she had first seen him, dark, stunningly handsome, a little reckless. It made her smile even as the baby stirred against her. "There will be a Langston at Ashburn Manor again. Daniel will come back, or his children will. They will have their place there, and in the Highlands." He lifted the chest that held the little Dresden shepherdess. One day he would give it to his son. He had bent to kiss her again when there was a knock on the door.
"Your pardon, my lord."
"What is it, Parkins?"
"We will lose the tide."
"Very well." He gestured to the other cases. "And Parkins, must I remind you that you are to address me as Mr. Langston now?" Parkins hefted the cases in his thin arms. He had asked his favor of his lady, and he and the new Mrs. Parkins were traveling to America. "No, my lord," he said mildly, and proceeded them.
Over Brigham's oath, Serena laughed and walked out with the baby. "You will always be Lord Ashburn, Sassenach. Come." She held out a hand to him. "We are going home."