Page 96 of The Laird's Dangerous Prize
Then the great doors opened, and Isolde appeared.
A collective intake of breath rippled through the assembled crowd. She moved with regal grace, her sisters flanking her as she made her way to where Ciaran waited. The MacAlpin plaid flowed behind her like water, and the ancient silver circlet on her brow caught the light with each step.
When she reached him, Ciaran's face transformed with wonder and love. "Mo chridhe," he whispered, taking her hands in his.
Father McKenzie, the elderly priest who'd served for decades, stepped forward to begin the ceremony. But first came the ancient Highland traditions that bound not just the couple, but their clans.
"We gather taeday," the priest intoned, his voice carrying clearly across the courtyard, "nay merely tae witness the joining of two hearts, but the forging of an alliance between two great clans. Let all who stand here bear witness tae this union."
Laird Alistair stepped forward, the MacAlpin ceremonial sword in his hands. "I give me daughter Isolde tae Clan MacCraith, that she may find happiness and bring honor tae both our houses."
The priest from MacCraith clan answered in kind. "And I welcome her tae our clan, that she may be daughter, sister, and eventually mother tae MacCraiths yet tae come."
The pipe music swelled as Ciaran and Isolde moved to the center of the circle. Following tradition, they each took a strip of their clan's plaid—his of MacCraith green and blue, hers of MacAlpin red and gold. Father McKenzie bound their hands together with both pieces of cloth, the colors intertwining like their lives would from this day forward.
"By the binding of these plaids," the priest declared, "so are ye bound together. Let nay man put asunder what God and clan have joined."
Ciaran's voice was strong and clear as he spoke his vows. "I, Ciaran MacCraith, take ye, Isolde MacAlpin, tae be me wife before God and clan. I pledge tae protect ye, tae provide fer ye, tae honor ye above all others. Me sword is yers, me lands are yers, me heart is yers until the day I die."
Isolde's voice rang just as clearly across the courtyard. "I, Isolde MacAlpin, take ye, Ciaran MacCraith, tae be me husband before God and clan. I pledge tae stand beside ye, tae support ye, tae love ye through all trials. Me loyalty is yers, me strength is yers, me heart is yers until the day I die."
Finlay stepped forward with the ceremonial cup, filled with wine from both clans' cellars mixed together. Ciaran drank first, then passed it to Isolde, the ancient ritual symbolizing their willingness to share all things, bitter and sweet alike.
"By the power vested in me by God and the Holy Kirk," Father McKenzie proclaimed, "I pronounce ye husband and wife. May yer union bring peace tae yer clans and joy tae yer hearts."
The cheer that rose from the assembled crowd could probably be heard in the next valley. Pipes skirled, drums beat, and voices raised in celebration as Ciaran pulled Isolde into his arms for their first kiss as husband and wife.
"I love ye, Lady MacCraith," he murmured against her lips.
"And I love ye, me laird, me husband," she replied, her heart so full she thought it might burst.
As the formal ceremony concluded, the celebration moved to the great hall, which had been transformed for the wedding feast. Long tables groaned under the weight of roasted venison, fresh salmon, bannocks, and honeyed cakes. Ale and whisky flowed freely, and the hall rang with laughter, music, and the ancient toasts of the Highland clans.
Finlay rose to give the first toast, his cup raised high. "Tae Ciaran and Isolde MacCraith! May their marriage be blessed with love, their lands with prosperity, and their union with many fine children!"
"Sláinte!" came the rousing response from every throat.
As the evening wore on, Isolde found herself swept up in the joy of it all. She danced with her new husband, with her father, with Finlay and Tavish and all the men who'd fought beside them. Her sisters laughed and sang, their faces bright with happiness despite Rhona's absence.
During a quiet moment, Elspeth approached her new mistress. "Welcome tae the family, lass," she said warmly. "Ye've made an old servant very happy. Now me laird will be happy at last. I can see the love between ye two—it shines like a beacon."
"Thank ye fer accepting me," Isolde replied. "I know I'm gaining nae just a husband, but a whole new family."
"Aye, and we're the richer fer it." Elspeth's eyes twinkled. "Now, about grandchildren..."
Isolde laughed, her cheeks coloring. "We've only just been wed!"
"Details," Elspeth waved dismissively. "Mark me words, by next year's harvest festival, there'll be a new MacCraith bairn tae spoil. When ye're settled, I have some herbs ready fer ye."
As the night deepened and the celebration continued, Ciaran found his bride on the castle's battlements, looking out over the moonlit Highland landscape. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and she leaned back against his chest.
"Are ye happy,mo chridhe?" he asked softly.
"Happier than I ever dared dream," she replied. "Although I canne be fully happy until we find Rhona."
"We'll find her," Ciaran promised. "We'll bring her home."
"Aye," Isolde agreed, then turned in his arms to face him. "But taenight is fer us. Fer our beginning."
