Page 25 of Catherine Meets the Highlander (Scottish Highlander I Never Knew #3)

Two more months had slipped by since Sir Kellan's departure from Fort Donald, his memory fading like a distant echo. She rarely even thought of him and the friendship they had shared. She was too busy living her life with Eamon to even care what Sir Kellan was doing.

On this day, the air was tinged with excitement and anticipation, for Fort Donald was alive with the vibrant energy of festivities. The courtyard was adorned with colorful banners and flowers, their vibrant hues a reflection of the joy that filled the air. Local villagers bustled about, their laughter and chatter creating a symphony of celebration.

As the sun bathed the fort in a warm golden glow, the castle's doors swung open to welcome the guests who had come from far and wide to witness Catherine’s and Eamon’s union. The halls were adorned with tapestries that told the stories of the clan's history, a rich tapestry woven with threads of courage, love, and loyalty.

Catherine stood in her former bedchamber, her heart aflutter as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her gown was a masterpiece of intricate lace and delicate silk, created by Bridie, its elegance a testament to the bond she was about to forge with the man she loved. Her fingers brushed over the necklace Eamon had given her, a symbol of their connection that now felt as essential as the air she breathed.

As the ceremony began, the villagers gathered in the dining hall, their faces a tapestry of emotions—joy, hope, and the kindling of memories that were etched into the very stone of the castle. Cam MacDonald stood at the front, his voice a steady anchor as he officiated the union of Catherine and Eamon.

When Catherine entered the room, everyone stood but she only had eyes for Eamon, who was a vision of strength and honor, his kilt and plaid a testament to his lineage as he stood at the front near Cam. His eyes shone with a mix of nerves and anticipation, as she approached him.

With every vow exchanged, every promise made, the bond between Catherine and Eamon grew stronger. Their hands clasped together; their fingers entwined in a declaration of unity that went beyond words. The hall seemed to hold its breath as they sealed their love with a kiss, the echoes of their passion reverberating through the very walls.

The wedding day's radiant joy flowed seamlessly into a grand feast, a celebration that embraced the spirit of the Highlands with every morsel of food, every note of music, and every step on the dance floor. The banquet tables groaned under the weight of delectable dishes—platters of smoked fish, roasted crab meats, hearty sea stews, freshly baked bread, and an array of vegetables that reflected the bountiful land. The air was fragrant with food.

The lively strains of fiddles and bagpipes echoed through the hall, inspiring feet to move and hearts to dance. Couples swirled and twirled, their laughter and the rustling of their garments harmonizing with the joyful music. The room was alive with the energy of celebration, the walls pulsating with the rhythm of the dance.

In the midst of this euphoria, Catherine and Eamon found themselves stealing moments alone. Their fingers brushed, igniting a spark of intimacy that only they could share amidst the crowd. Eamon's eyes held a mixture of tenderness and wonder as he took in the sight of Catherine in her wedding gown, the embodiment of his dreams and the reality of his love.

As they stepped away from the dance floor, they found a quiet corner, a sanctuary of stolen moments in the midst of the jubilation. Eamon's voice was a husky whisper as he told Catherine, "I cannae believe my luck. To have found a woman who has captured my heart in a way I never imagined."

Catherine's response was filled with the same heartfelt emotion, expressing her gratitude, "I feel the same way. And so grateful for finding a love that is strong enough to weather any storm."

Their hands found each other, their fingers intertwining as if to form an unbreakable bond. They shared dreams and aspirations, whispered promises and declarations of love, their voices blending with the soft strains of the music that wafted through the air. With each word, their connection grew stronger, deepening the intimacy they had already discovered.

The night seemed to stretch on, a tapestry of laughter, music, and the warmth of companionship. The feast continued, the tables replenished with even more culinary delights, and the air infused with the rich aroma of mead and ale. The laughter of friends and the clinking of goblets created a symphony of celebration, a symphony that would forever echo in the memory of this momentous day.

As the hours danced by, Catherine and Eamon found themselves once again on the dance floor, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. Their eyes locked, the world around them fading into insignificance as they reveled in the presence of each other. The night, like their love, was boundless, filled with the promise of a future as bright as the stars that adorned the darkening sky.

Amidst the swirl of festivities, a face caught Catherine's attention, a face that seemed oddly familiar in this lively crowd. Her heart quickened as she realized it was the same man, the man she’d thought was her professor from that fateful encounter in the cabin at University. She know knew he wasn’t that professor, but Dub Sith, the Fae man who had brought her to this time and place. His presence here was as unexpected as it was intriguing, a twist of fate that piqued her curiosity.

Determined to uncover the truth, Catherine made her way through the throng, her steps guided by a mix of trepidation and anticipation. She approached him cautiously, her gaze intense as she met his eyes. The corners of his lips twitched, a knowing smile that suggested he had been waiting for this moment.

"Dub Sith," she addressed him, her voice a blend of determination and curiosity. "I remember you from that cabin. You were not my professor. But what is your true purpose here now?"

His eyes twinkled with an otherworldly light as he replied, "Ah, Catherine. I am sorry to have attempted to fool you. You've always been quite inquisitive."

She wasted no time, her voice firm as she questioned him, "Why the trickery? Why not just ask if I'd like to come here?"

Dub Sith scratched his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You must understand, lass, I have lived through eras where such propositions were... well, not always received with enthusiasm by the women of your time."

Catherine's eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You're telling me that you couldn't have just asked?"

He chuckled softly. "Perhaps you're right. Times have changed, it seems."

She crossed her arms, her tone firm. "It's worth a shot. I probably would have jumped at the chance if you’d offered it."

Dub Sith's gaze softened, and he nodded in agreement. "Very well, Catherine. I'll keep that in mind for the future."

“You mean there will be more women you’re going to bring here?”

His smile was enigmatic. “Perhaps.”

Their exchange was both cryptic and revealing, a dance of words that hinted at mysteries and possibilities beyond Catherine's understanding. Dub Sith's eyes held a depth of knowledge that transcended time itself, a reminder that the world was far more complex and mysterious than she could have ever imagined.

As the night continued to unfold around them, Catherine felt a sense of closure, a resolution to a question that had lingered in her mind since that encounter in the cabin. The Fae's presence, his confession, and their conversation added a layer of intrigue to the celebration, a reminder that even amidst the revelry, there were secrets waiting to be unraveled, and stories waiting to be discovered. She also came to the stark realization that she had no intention of asking this Dub Sith if there were any way back to her own time. That desire had long gone from her heart, and knowing that made her very happy, indeed.

In the tender glow of the festivities, Catherine's heart swelled as she embraced Eamon. The warmth of his presence enveloped her, a comfort that spoke of shared trials and triumphs. She held him close, a silent exchange of love and gratitude that needed no words to convey its depth.

As the music and laughter swirled around them, Cam approached Eamon, his expression grave despite the joyous occasion. "The rumors persist, brought to me this eve but some of our more distant guests, Eamon," he said in a hushed tone. "Malcolm is still gathering forces and staying hidden, perhaps with allies."

Eamon's jaw clenched, his determination evident as he met Cam's gaze. "We'll find him," he affirmed. "We'll flush him out, for the safety of our land."

Cam nodded, acknowledging the unspoken commitment between them. "But for now, my friend," Eamon continued, a playful glint in his eyes, "I must dance with my bride."

With those words, he took Catherine's hand, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. They moved to the rhythm of the music, their steps fluid and harmonious, as if the world itself was celebrating their union.

As the music's melody waned, Eamon's hand found Catherine's once more. With a look that spoke volumes, he led her through the castle's dimly lit corridors. Their steps seemed to echo the rhythm of their hearts, the shared beat of two souls entwined.

Finally, they arrived at their room. Eamon pushed the door open, revealing a space that took Catherine's breath away. Their room had been turned into a haven of comfort and beauty, with a cozy sitting area adorned with plush cushions and rich tapestries. A roaring fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the walls.

Beyond the sitting area lay their bedchamber, a sanctuary of intimacy and promise. The bed was grand and inviting, draped with rich fabrics that whispered of luxury. Moonlight filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow upon the room. It was a haven that seemed to be made just for them, a space where their love could flourish.

Eamon's eyes held a mixture of tenderness and anticipation as he looked at Catherine. In one swift motion, he swept her into his arms, carrying her effortlessly over the threshold. Her laughter filled the air, a joyful sound that echoed through the chambers.

Settling her down gently, Eamon's gaze searched hers, a question lingering in his eyes. "Are you truly happy, Catherine?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble.

Catherine met his gaze with unwavering sincerity. "I didn't know such happiness existed," she replied, her fingers reaching up to caress his cheek. "But I've found it in you, Eamon."

His heart swelled, a deep emotion radiating in his gaze. "And I in you," he murmured, his lips finding hers in a gentle, lingering kiss.

As they embraced in the heart of their sanctuary, the promise of a future filled with love and adventure unfurled before them. The past and the present converged in their union, and as the moon continued its journey across the sky, Catherine and Eamon embarked on a new chapter of their story, bound by a love that transcended time itself.

Early that morning, before the sun rose, Catherine found herself stealing a moment of solitude by a window. The soft glow of candlelight mingled with the gentle moonbeams, casting a soothing ambiance. She leaned against the window sill, gazing out at the landscape that stretched beyond, lost in thought.

The memories of her life at the University, once so vivid, now seemed distant and pale. Her mind used to be filled with lectures, seminars, and endless stacks of books. But here, in this world of castles and clans, those concerns felt like ephemeral wisps of a forgotten dream.

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of Catherine's lips as she realized how thoroughly she had embraced her new reality. The people, the places, and most of all, the man she loved – they had become her present, her heartbeat. She had come to know their laughter, their sorrows, their courage, as if she had lived among them all her life.

With a soft sigh, she admitted to herself that the dusty pages of history books could never compare to living and breathing history itself. The taste of freshly baked bread, the embrace of the wind as it swept through the highland hills, the warmth of Eamon's hand in hers – these were the things that had become her anchors.

She traced a finger along the window pane, her thoughts dancing with the play of shadows. The past, once confined to the pages of textbooks, had come alive around her. She had walked through its corridors, felt its heartbeat, and discovered a love that transcended centuries.

In this world of ancient tales and untamed landscapes, Catherine had found a truth that resonated deep within her soul. Her heart had found its home amidst the rugged beauty of the Highlands, and as she watched the stars above, she knew that she had no desire to return to the life she had left behind. The past was no longer a mere academic pursuit; it was her present, her reality, and the tapestry of her own adventure.