Page 23

Gwyn did everything in her power to avoid Iver.

It was not that she didn't wish to see the remarkable Highlander.

She found even though he was not near, it was his vision who was always plaguing her mind.

Instead, she was just so afraid of her own reactions.

She was very fearful she could not hide the emotions from her face, which were so blatantly prevalent within her entire being.

It was now apparent in her mind what her heart already knew.

She feared she had very strong feelings for the warrior from the clan McColl even though she was already wed to another.

"Heaven help me, Iver, what am I to do?"

The next days were not much of a challenge because there was a great deal of unrest and the men were drawn from the keep.

No longer was the gathering hall filled in the evenings with the Highlanders, especially since the holdings were nearly empty all its occupants.

Only for short periods did any of the warriors return with their only intentions of gaining some food and for some much needed rest.

While Gwyn and Durell continued to go to the hill behind the keep to commence their daily routine, they were no longer joined by Iver and Donnan.

While she knew in her head there was much to occupy the warriors, she could not help wondering in her heart if their absence was caused by a different reason altogether.

"Mother, it is just not the same when Iver and Donnan are not here."

It was obvious by not only his words, but by his actions that Durell had been disappointed.

"Durell, you need to understand there is much trouble going on all around us.

While I would never wish to frighten you, you must know what we are faced with in these recent times.

The lands all around us are fraught with those who may wish to do us harm.

I have heard much talk of the Fraser from our north. "

Gwyn stopped her speech because it was clear her words were being received in the manner in which they were intended. Her young son pierced his lips and bowed his head in concession, now understanding the threat was so very real around them.

"I know, mother, and I am sorry for my words. It is just…how I long for…I have learned so much and simply thirst for more of their knowledge. While you are here and try so hard and have taught me much, it is simply not the same."

Gwyn almost smiled at Durell as he tried to convey his desires to be near the great warriors but at the same time carefully selecting his words so they would not harm her.

"I understand, my son that what I have to offer now pales considerably in your eyes to their tremendous skills."

When the shock and near look of shame made Durell drop his head, she spoke again quickly in her attempt to alleviate his heart.

"I understand completely and would never take offense. Never apologize for wanting to be a better man for this is what will make you truly great one day."

It was nearly a fortnight later when Gwyn could avoid Iver no longer. Both she and Durell were required to be within the noble warrior's presence along with the rest of the McColl and a large share of the Chattan. It was an important night when many lives would be changed forever.

Gwyn took care with her appearance on this eve knowing it was an important one with as much ceremony as she had ever had the chance to partake of in the past. She dressed in a dark colored gown that dipped low in the front revealing more of herself then she normally felt comfortable.

However, it was the gown her husband had chosen for her and she would not defy his order.

Over the top of the form fitting dress, she wrapped herself in the dark blue and green plaid of the Chattan.

The fine material spoke of her ties to her clan.

As she placed the long tartan over her shoulder and attached a broach holding it in place, she absently wished she felt the deep bond with these people as she had always felt with the MacLaren.

"Oh father, I understand my duty but I only wish-"

She could not complete her words. Instead, Gwyn brushed her long heavy tresses until they shimmered in the light of fire.

Understanding the hour had finally arrived, she moved from her chamber and down the hallway to gather her son.

When he gained her side, Durell was dressed as any of the other warriors, sporting the plaid of the Chattan.

"Mother, you look very beautiful on this eve."

"Why, thank you, Durell. And you are so very fine, I hardly recognized you looking all grown up!"

"Is it really true that Iver and Donnan and the rest of the McColl will confirm their fates on this eve? Will they really stand before father and pledge themselves to him and to that of the Chattan for the rest of their lives?"

"Yes, my son, and is it not so very exciting? You must understand this means they will be here permanently. They have chosen this of their own free will and will swear this is their rightful place in this world."

"But to give up your homeland and that of your birth and to seek out another's? Mother, I am not so certain I could do this."

Gwyn had not anticipated these words and had never expected him to question loyalties.

At least not at this young age. Her heart nearly broke for her deceptions of all these last many years.

She knew that some day, she was hopeful he would do just that and willingly pledge himself to the MacLaren.

"Well, my son, one never knows what paths may come before us in our lives. Look at me and every other woman who marries someone from a different clan. We learn to give up the homes of our birth and learn to love another. Just as the warriors will do tonight, we also pledge ourselves to another."

"But that is different. You are not fighting nor dying for your homeland!"

"Oh, take care with your words, Durell! We make many sacrifices throughout our lives just as do all the men.

It requires great strength to leave everything you know and journey to another place where nothing is familiar.

We then care for the peoples and if we are blessed, bear sons and daughters who will one day become keepers of their homelands.

Or so we hope. You must know, while I may not take a sword to the battlefield as may you one day, I would die for the Chattan if it ever came to that. "

Gwyn could not miss the heavy emotions as they swept over her son's face.

"Forgive me, mother. I had not thought of it in that way and fear I have offended you. It was never my intention."

Gwyn gazed at her son understanding her words were being considered and was so proud at that moment.

He was beginning to make the transition between young lad and man, and she could not have been more proud.

When he spoke no more and almost shifted uncomfortably before her, she took him into her arms.

"Come, my son, it is time. We will leave these heavy talks for another day."

Together, mother and son moved down the hallway and found the Laird Chattan at the head of the staircase watching both of them as they approached.

Gwyn was surprised he did not speak and simply extended his elbow to her as if this were in their everyday normal routine.

She nearly reacted openly for it had been years since he had allowed her to touch him, even in such an innocent way.

It struck a sad chord within her for this simple gesture was one she should have been commonplace for two who were wed.

As the Laird Errol turned with her to move down the grand stairway, Gwyn looked over her husband's shoulder into the darkened hallway where she stood. It was Philomena who was in the shadows and peering almost angrily towards her. And Gwyn understood her reasoning.

As the Laird Errol and Lady Gwyn of the Chattan descended the stairs, she realized with almost a panic that what must have been nearly one hundred sets of eyes followed their every move.

It was the clansmen of the Chattan along with those of the McColl and they appeared to be scrutinizing the progress both she and her laird made.

It made her more uncomfortable and she could almost feel the heat as it rose upon her cheeks.

Iver could hardly take his eyes off her.

When the laird had stood high upon the stairs, it was not he nor the significant vow he was going to pledge on this eve that was on his mind.

It was the stunning creature who was holding the laird's arm.

The dark gown that she wore with the Chattan plaid, hugged her curves just right.

Her lightly colored hair was left long and cascaded strikingly down her back.

The ivory of her slender neck was shimmering in the firelight and it extended downwards and to the full swell of her breasts rising heavily above her fitted bodice.

Iver almost groaned hungrily for the want of her. Almost. With deliberateness, he moved his gaze to look upon the laird, breathing deeply as he ineffectively attempted to erase her beauty from his mind.

Iver was thankful the laird of the Chattan left his wife and son at the base of the stairway and progressed alone to stand before the lighted hearth. This allowed him the reprieve he needed from gazing upon the vision of the Lady Gwyn. Steadfastly, he kept his eyes trained upon the laird.

As the Laird Errol of the Chattan raised his hands, all those of the McColl pressed one knee to the floor as the ceremony began. They lowered their heads as the laird spoke out loudly.

"Tonight you are here before me and witnessed by many to pledge your loyalty, honor and to give willingly your vow of fealty to those of the Chattan. One at a time, come forward and swear your oath."

Beginning with Iver, one by one the men rose and moved to kneel before the laird and spoke out boldly.