Page 107 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

Somewhere at the back of the hall, a goat bleated.

“Skye.”

“Aye?”

“Did Lily sneak the goat in?”

Skye bit back a laugh. “Aye, I think she did.”

“And what of the cat?”

“She hid Blossom in her skirts.”

Dougal chuckled.

Nothing could be more perfect. Everything looked exactly as it should be—the wedding of two people deeply in love who had finally found their way to each other.

“We’ll find hoofprints on the chapel floor by morning,” Dougal said, shaking his head.

“Undoubtedly,” Skye said, smiling. “Ye ken she’ll deny it till her dying breath.”

“Aye, she’ll swear on her life that Goat simply wandered in on his own.”

“With Blossom riding on his back, no less.”

Dougal laughed, low and warm, drawing a few curious glances from the guests nearest them. He didn’t care. Let them wonder.

“I suppose we should be grateful that she didnae try to smuggle in the horses as well.”

“Daenae give her ideas,” Skye warned, though her eyes were bright with laughter. “There’s still the reception to survive.”

Dougal took her hand, lacing their fingers together, and for a moment, the noise in the hall faded to nothing.

“Whatever chaos that lass brings today,” he murmured, “I wouldnae have it any other way.”

“Neither would I.”

And Skye meant it, every last bit of it, the goat and the cat and the girl who loved them both fiercely enough to smuggle them into a wedding. It was messy and unplanned and entirely theirs.

It was exactly as it should be.

Dougal still wasn’t sure how Lily had managed to sneak the goat in. But one glance at Stephen’s face told him that his friend had played some part in it.

All Lily had to do was ask her Uncle Stephen, and he would give in, willing to do whatever she asked. Skye had once said that Lily had Dougal wrapped around her finger, but the same clearly applied to Stephen.

“So, did ye help her?” Dougal asked him.

“Aye, but ye try saying no to Lily when she’s looking up at ye with those big, round eyes,” Stephen snorted. “It’s impossible, Dougal!”

Kenna patted him on the shoulder. “Aye, we’ve all been there, but it all worked out in the end, so no harm done.”

At that moment, the goat decided to chew on some of the flowers. The soft crunching drew the attention of everyone nearby.

“No!” Lily cried.

Skye laughed. “Dougal, yer goat is eating the flowers.”

“He isnae me goat,” Dougal muttered. “He’s Lily’s goat. When did I get the goat?”