Page 41 of Time of the Druid (Stones of Scotland #7)
T hey were married, in the end, on Bethany’s favourite ship, moored in the harbour outside Dunadd.
“It was a gift from my husband,” she told Norah, her fingers nimble and gentle as she wove fragrant white blossoms through the thick, shining coils of Norah’s red hair. The petals smelled faintly of spring meadows, their creamy softness bright against the fiery strands. Maeve, crouched at Norah’s side, smoothed the folds of her linen dress with quick, precise hands, the fabric rustling softly under her touch. “It represents freedom,” Bethany went on, her voice thick with emotion. “So I really can’t think of a better place for you and Matthew to marry.”
Sadie and Ciaran, predictably, had not been patient enough to wait for further details after Bethany’s mysterious letter. They had jumped straight onto Ciaran’s fastest boat and sped straight for Dunadd, arriving long before Matthew and Norah even thought about leaving. Sadie had hunted Norah down in the centre of Dunadd and almost knocked her over with a running-start hug, shrieking her excitement the whole time. Norah had been delighted to see her sister again, and to meet her little nephews—so delighted that she almost couldn’t breathe, thanks to the tears that welled up in her eyes and blocked her throat.
Now, the trip to Arran was actually going to be their wedding voyage. Matthew promised they could set off as soon as the ceremony finished, to end their wedding celebration on the island. Norah couldn’t wait to spend more time with her family.
As she walked through Dunadd’s gates and down toward the harbour, where she knew Matthew waited for her, Norah felt the warm late-afternoon breeze lift her veil and tug playfully at the hem of her gown. The scent of woodsmoke and baking bread drifted on the air from the kitchens above, mingling with the salty tang of the sea. The stone walls behind her radiated the heat of the sun, still warm from the day, while beneath her sandals the path was smooth and sun-dappled. The voices of villagers rang out faintly behind her, laughter and chatter marking the end of a bustling day.
She couldn’t quite believe she’d made it. Free . Edmondson was gone. The threat that had hung like a blade over her life had finally, gloriously evaporated. No more poison. No more lies. No more lying awake at night, sick with shame over the things she’d done. Her skin felt lighter, her breath deeper. This was what it meant to be free. This was what it meant to step into a new life.
“Are you ready?” Bethany whispered beside her. On her other side, Maeve giggled.
They were almost down at the harbour now. Norah could see Matthew standing by the ship’s railings, the sea breeze stirring the edges of his bright white wedding tunic. The sunlight gleamed off the fabric, and the dark, curling lines of his tattoos peeked out like whispers of the past he carried with him. Her heart leapt in her chest at the sight of him—tall, proud, strikingly handsome with his golden hair tousled by the wind and those vivid blue eyes scanning the crowd until they found her. As they drew closer, she saw his smile blooming, full of warmth and disbelief, and the world around her seemed to narrow to just him. Soon, he would be her husband, and the thought made her head spin with joy.
“I’m ready,” she told Bethany. “I’m ready for the rest of my life.”