Page 42 of Desiring the Highland Laird (Highland Destiny #1)

I t wasn’t the proposal she had dreamed about. But he was definitely the man of her dreams.

Callum was insistent they not wait. He left to find an officiant to marry them as soon as possible in the keep’s chapel.

He said it would be a traditional handfasting ceremony—they would be together for a year and a day.

When he returned, he would be with the local bishop and they would marry at once.

She recalled that Jamie and the MacDonald woman were handfasted. She wondered if she would give Callum a child within their year and a day and felt giddy at the prospect.

While he was gone, it took all her focus as she cut lengths of flowers from the garden.

Then she wove them together in a circle to wear on her head.

She hadn’t any idea what she would wear to marry Callum and, truthfully, it didn’t matter to her.

She was never the girl who had a dream wedding with a fancy gown.

She thought she would marry someday, of course, but that was nothing more than a wish and a thought.

Now it was a reality.

She placed the finishing touches on the crown of flowers and placed it on her head to check the fit. It would do. She gazed at her reflection in the mirror and grinned. She was pleased with her handiwork especially since she wasn’t crafty in any way.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Come in.”

Roslyn pushed open the door and paused there, gaping at her for a long moment. She sniffed as a wistful expression crossed her face.

“Och, lass, did ye make that yerself?”

“I did. Do you like it?”

She gave a wistful sigh. “It’s perfect.” She moved into the room and closed the door behind her. It was then that Evie realized she had material draped over her arm. “I brought ye something.”

She brought the material toward the bed and laid it out. The gown was a rich garnet color with long sleeves that had buttons from elbow to wrist and a round neckline trimmed in gold. It was a beautiful gown.

“I thought ye should have something special to wear. It was his mother’s,” she said.

Evie fingered the material, then glanced up at Roslyn. “It’s so beautiful. Thank you.”

“Yer going to be the lady of Dundale. Ye should look the part.”

Evie froze, her breath catching. The weight of it hit her like a cold gust of wind—she would be the laird’s wife, the lady of the castle.

A strange mix of excitement and fear fluttered in her chest. Her mind raced, trying to grasp what that truly meant.

What duties would fall on her shoulders?

The enormity of it pressed down on her, making her pulse quicken.

“Are ye all right, lass? Ye look a wee bit pale.”

“I don’t know anything about being the wife of a laird.”

Roslyn wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. “Ye will do a wonderful job.”

A sliver of hope settled in her heart. Roslyn would guide her through whatever responsibilities came with being Callum’s wife. That brought a small sense of comfort.

“I hope so.”

“To be sure. Now, let’s get ye dressed. Yer laird awaits, my lady!”

*

Minutes later, after helping her dress, Roslyn escorted her to the chapel, which was an outer building on the other side of the keep.

It was a small stone building with a few windows and inside, rows of wooden pews.

She was uncertain how the ceremony would go—after all, she suspected there would be no formal walk down the aisle or wedding march.

When they arrived at the chapel, Dougal waited for her, which was a surprise.

“I’m to walk ye down the aisle, my lady.” He bowed low to her, then offered his arm.

She cut a glance at Roslyn, who grinned and then slipped ahead of them into the chapel to take her seat. Evie placed her hand on his arm.

“The laird is a lucky lad,” he said.

She flushed as they started down the aisle toward the altar.

Surprise flickered through her to see most of the castle had turned out for their impromptu wedding.

She thought she spied Angus Sinclair among the guests.

Malcolm and Jamie were absent. She knew they’d left to recruit reinforcements for the upcoming conflict.

Callum stood at the front with the officiant. He wore a clean tunic, breeches, and his plaid draped over one shoulder. His boots were well worn but polished. He stood with the bishop waiting for her to join him at the altar. Her heart fluttered like a whispered promise as she walked toward him.

Callum’s deep blue eyes sparkled with admiration and love as he looked at her. She gave him a faint smile. Together, they turned to face the bishop.

“We gather here today to witness and celebrate the sacred union of Callum and Evangeline. By the rites of handfasting, they shall be bound together in love and commitment. Callum, do ye come here of yer own free will to bind yerself in love and loyalty to Evangeline?”

His gaze never left hers when he answered. “I do.”

“Evangeline, do ye come here of yer own free will to bind yourself in love and loyalty to Callum?”

Her heart pounded so hard she was sure everyone in the room heard it. “I do.”

“Join hands and face one another.”

When they did, the bishop placed a long thick cord over their joined hands, then bound them together in a loose infinity symbol.

“Your hands and your hearts are now bound together as one. These are the hands that will love ye and cherish ye throughout yer lifetimes.

“Callum, repeat after me. I, Callum, take thee, Evangline, to be my wedded wife. I vow to love and cherish thee, to honor and protect thee, in times of joy and sorrow, for as long as we both shall live. With this cord, I bind my life to thine,” the bishop said.

Evie nearly swooned to hear Callum repeat the vows. Then it was her turn.

“Evangeline, repeat after me.”

She repeated the same words, pledging her love and loyalty in times of joy and sorrow.

“By the power of the ancient traditions we honor, I pronounce ye handfasted, united in love and loyalty. May yer bond be strong, yer hearts steadfast, and yer love eternal. Ye may seal yer vows with a kiss.”

Evie leaned into him, their joined hands between them, as she tipped her head back to look up at him.

He smiled at her, sending her heart soaring, and then sealed their vows with the sweetest kiss she had ever had.

For the first time in her life, she felt as though she belonged somewhere and to someone and that made her happy.

When they broke, she still leaned into him, looking up at him and feeling the warmth of his body next to hers.

The bishop said, “As yer hands are bound together, so shall yer lives be bound as one. May ye enjoy a lifetime of love, peace, and happiness. Let us rejoice in their union.”

Roslyn sniffed with joy as she stood and hurried over to them. She flung her arms around both of them.

“Yer mam and da would be so proud, Callum.” Then she stepped back, her eyes holding unshed tears as she beamed at them both. “Welcome to the family, lass.”

Angus Sinclair approached with a faint smile hidden behind his thick beard. “If I dinnae ken better, lass, I’d say ye were part of my family, too.”

Evie wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“My lady wife thinks ye are a distant relative,” Angus went on to explain.

The air whooshed out of her as she gazed at the man whose eyes were the same color as her sister Brianna’s. Perhaps he wasn’t wrong to think that. After all, she was likely staring at one of her ancestors. She couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up her throat.

“Indeed, we may be,” she said at last.

Angus chuckled, too, then cut a glance at Callum. “May I kiss the bride?”

Callum glanced at her question in his blue eyes. She nodded to signal it was all right with her.

“Aye,” her new husband said.

Angus gave her cheek a light kiss.

“An occasion like this needs a celebration,” Roslyn said. “Let us feast!”

*

They feasted that night. Angus Sinclair and his men were in attendance as well as most of the castle inhabitants. It was a joyful time. Roslyn’s cheeks were rosy with pure happiness as she bustled about the great hall.

Yet Evie was painfully aware of the knot in the pit of her stomach, a knot of dread for the coming days and the coming fight.

She was also a ball of nerves after their handfasting.

It was unexplainable, though, since she and Callum had been together numerous times.

What was wrong with her? There was nothing to be nervous about.

She had no regrets about marrying him. In fact, elation skipped through her knowing she was his wife and would be here with him.

She was at peace with her decision to stay in the past. At peace with the knowledge that her sisters would eventually join her.

It was a long, emotional day. She was exhausted. Perhaps Callum sensed that when he turned to her, grasped her hand and lifted it to kiss her fingertips. A faint smile was on his lips.

“Mayhap it’s time to retire for the night,” he said, his voice low.

Relief pounded through her as she expelled a sigh. “I’d like that.”

“Go. I’ll follow shortly.”

Evie hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded. “All right.”

He released her. When she rose, all eyes in the room turned to watch her go. She was acutely aware of the stares as she made her way through the great hall, leaving behind the noise. Safely alone and in their bedchamber, she leaned against the door and blew out a breath.

Someone had visited the room earlier and started a fire, warming the bedchamber. She was grateful for that. The bed had fresh linens and was turned down as if anticipating their wedding night. Her heart thundered upon seeing that, though she wasn’t even sure why apprehension flickered through her.

It was silly.

Would things between them be any different now that they were wed?

She tugged the flower crown off her head and placed it on the bedside table.

Reaching into her pocket, she slipped out the handkerchief with the keystone nestled inside, the faint glowing lines evident through the material.

Carefully, she unwrapped the cloth and peered down at it.

The lines were pulsating and there was a faint humming.

Like the day she used it to go back in time.

With shaking hands, she quickly wrapped it back up and placed it on the bedside table, backing away from it. As if by merely being close to it would send her home.

She didn’t want to go home.

This was her home.

The bedchamber door scraped open, and Callum stepped through. She heard bawdy shouts from the other side and down the hall as he quickly shoved it closed. Sweat beaded his brow. His gaze met hers.

“What was that shouting about?” she asked.

“Och, lass, I dinnae want to subject ye to the bedding ceremony.”

She flushed, hot, as she peered at him. “Bedding ceremony?”

“Aye. ’Tis tradition the family follow the new couple to bed to make sure they—”

“I get it,” she said, cutting him off with a wave of her hand. “You don’t have to explain.”

She spun around, her cheeks hot. Thank God he didn’t allow that. She was grateful to him for saving her from that humiliation.

His movement behind her indicated that he had closed the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

“I ken ye aren’t familiar with our traditions.”

“I’m not.” She turned in his arms to face him, tipping her head back to look up at him. “And thank you for doing that. That means a lot to me.”

He cupped her face, grinning down at her. “I’d rather have ye all to myself.”

This time, a different type of flushing heat flashed through her. She slid her hands up and over his muscular chest, resting them on his broad shoulders. Her body tingled in sweet anticipation of what was to come.

“I’d rather that, too.”

“How does it feel to be a MacLeod?” he asked.

She smiled, warmth spreading through her. “It feels wonderful. Now, we better get on with our private bedding ceremony. We wouldn’t want to disappoint your family, would we?”

He chuckled, a rumble deep in his throat. “Nay, we would not.”