Page 15 of To Wed a Witch (Reluctant Brides #3)

Sìne's cheeks flushed, but she nodded, her eyes meeting his briefly before looking away. "Aye," she whispered.

Paisley, who had been hovering nearby, came to Sìne's aid.

"There's no need, Paisley. Ye stay here awhile and enjoy the festivities," Sìne said, noting that Paisley had been in a heated discussion with Dugald.

"'Tis no bother," Paisley replied. "I'd prefer to help ye and Aidyn."

As they stepped away from the dais, Bhaltair caught the eye of Dugald. "Escort the ladies upstairs."

"Aye, laird," the burly man replied, already moving toward the main door.

Bhaltair watched as his small family made their way from the hall, Sìne's gown swaying as she walked, Aidyn's head resting against her shoulder.

Something deep in his chest tightened with an emotion he couldn't quite name: possession, protection, and something far tenderer.

The sound of laughter, the sight of full plates, the knowledge that his people would sleep warm and secure.

.. all of it possible because of the remarkable woman who'd become his wife.

But beneath the contentment lay a sharp awareness of the dangers beyond their borders. He would not—could not—allow anything to threaten this newfound calm. Not the mercenaries, not old enemies, not anything that might cast shadows over the light that had finally returned to Ferguson Keep.

***

I N THE COZY NURSERY chamber, little Aidyn slept peacefully in her small bed, one tiny fist curled beneath her chin. The room was warm and quiet, lit only by the soft glow of a single candle on the bedside table.

In the large bedchamber beyond, Paisley hummed softly as she helped Sìne dry off from her warm scented lavender bath and don her nightshift. She'd brushed her teeth with an aromatic mint paste earlier.

"There we are, mistress," Paisley said, wrapping a large arisaidh over her shoulders. "Ye smell like a garden in spring from head to toe."

Sìne nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she allowed her maid to dry her hair with a towel. Her heart was racing, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

Soon there was a knock at the door as a couple of servants arrived to remove the wooden tub from the room. Once they left, Paisley continued ranting about an altercation she had with Dugald.

"That Dugald," Paisley said, oblivious to her mistress's nervousness as she reached for a clean chemise.

"He is the most annoying man I've ever had the misfortune to meet.

Always throwing his oafish opinions about without a care.

.. and tonight he stood there giving me orders like, 'Move along, lass,' when I tried to thank him for his escort.

As if I was some flighty girl who'd lose her way between the hall and the stairs! "

"Mmm," Sìne murmured, barely listening as Paisley brushed and braided her hair.

"And then he has the audacity to tell me I should not hover about because 'the laird expects privacy.

' Well, of course the laird expects privacy!

Does he think I'm planning to linger and gossip in the hallway?

" Paisley's voice rose with indignation as she brushed Sìne's hair.

"The man acts as though he kens what's what more than I do! "

Despite her nerves, Sìne found herself smiling at her maid's chatter. Paisley had been with her since before Aidyn was born, and her loyal, talkative presence was a comfort.

"He's probably just... protective of his laird," Sìne replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Protective!" Paisley scoffed as she kept plaiting. "More like possessive. Mark my words, mistress, that man thinks he owns the place. Next thing, he'll be telling the mice when they're allowed to scurry about."

Sìne's breath caught as she thought of what lay ahead. Her marriage to Bhaltair was still so new, so fragile. They'd shared tender kisses, gentle touches, but tonight... tonight would be different. Tonight, they would truly become husband and wife.

But then she remembered the way Bhaltair had cradled Aidyn during the feast, how he'd patiently helped feed her with infinite gentleness.

She thought of how he'd defended them both to his clan, how he'd made them feel welcome and wanted, how he'd kissed them both so tenderly before they'd left the Great Hall.

"There," Paisley said, stepping back to admire her work. "Bonnie as always."

"Thank ye, Paisley," Sìne said, managing a smile. "Ye may go now and seek yer own rest."

Paisley studied her mistress with knowing eyes. "Are ye sure, mistress? Ye seem a bit... nervous tonight."

Sìne's cheeks warmed. "I'm perfectly well. Just tired from the celebration."

"Of course, ye are," Paisley replied with a gentle smile, clearly not believing a word of it. "Well, if ye need anything at all, I'll be just down the hall. And if the wee one starts fussing, ye can always send her to me."

After Paisley had gone, Sìne stood alone in the center of the chamber, her hands clasped before her.

The room seemed suddenly very quiet, very large.

She could hear the distant sounds of the feast still continuing in the Great Hall below, but up here, it was just her and the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth.

She moved to the window and looked out at the moonlit courtyard, trying to steady her breathing.

Yes, she was nervous, but beneath the nervousness was something else: anticipation.

Bhaltair had been nothing but kind to her, nothing but gentle.

He'd shown her daughter more love and acceptance than her own father ever had.

Whatever happened tonight, she knew she was safe with him. More than safe. She was cherished.

***

A N HOUR LATER, BHALTAIR climbed the stone steps two at a time, his heart beating faster than it had any right to.

He was freshly bathed, having taken a cold scrub in the loch and brushed his teeth with charcoal and mint paste.

His dark hair was still damp, wearing only a léine and his plaid wrapped around him.

The feast had continued in the Great Hall below, but his thoughts had been elsewhere entirely: on the conversation he'd had with Sìne the night before, on the promises they'd made to each other, on the woman who was waiting for him even now.

He paused at the top of the stairs, running a hand through his hair.

Never in his life had he imagined he could feel this fortunate.

Days ago, Clan Ferguson had been on the brink of ruin, and he'd been a man with nothing to offer a wife but debts and despair.

Now, thanks to Sìne's dowry, his people were fed and secure, his coffers were full, and his heart. ..

His heart was fuller than he'd ever dared dream.

Whistling softly, Bhaltair strode down the corridor toward his bedchamber, anticipation thrumming through his veins. Tonight, he would finally seduce his wife.

***