Page 77 of Deception and Desire
“The lecher wanted MacDunn hung for the crime.” Calum chewed on the hard wood of his pipe.
“Then he would have beat the girl until she lost the bairn.” Lachlan had no doubt.
“Ye’re probably right.” His grandfather grinned. “Instead, I arranged a wedding in our chapel, preceding the ceilidh. If the lass arrives with even a scratch, I promised to flog him with the entire village as witness.”
“So, Gideon shares an enemy with us? The lecher better watch his tongue with three grandsons in attendance.”
“Craigg has refused to come for the wedding. Says the girl is dead to him. Lissie’s parents will stand up for her.”
Lachlan relaxed into the chair and stretched his long legs toward the fire. “I do believe I’m once again looking forward to the day.”
*
The day ofthe ceilidh shone bright. Hamish MacDunn, the groom, had arrived early to ask Lachlan to stand with him. Lachlan suspected it had to do with Calum’s role in the betrothal, but he was happy to take part.
Trestle tables were set up with benches for eating and visiting, white linen spread across the wooden boards with candles, and crystal water bowls for washing. More trestles lined one wall with small pies, breads, and fruit compotes. Entwined circles of marzipan were scattered across the tables, the sugary creations leaving a glitter of crumbs along the length of the linen. Silver plates and goblets had been set on the dais for the guests of honor.
Lachlan’s stomach growled as he inhaled the tantalizing aromas of roasted pig and venison. A whistle sounded and someone yelled, “The bride is here.” Everyone moved to the courtyard. He noticed Lissie take Gideon’s arm, a look passing between them. A light he hadn’t seen in Lissie before shown in her tawny eyes, the kind of brightness even Ian had not put there.
Nessie Craigg, the young dark-haired bride, stood on a wagon. A woman called out, “Right foot forward for good luck!”
Lachlan moved next to his mother. “Where are Brodie and Brigid?”
Glynnis chuckled. “We have a cow with a fall birthing. She went into labor last night, but no calf yet. Brigid insists the heifer will need help, so Brodie stayed back with her. They should be here in time for the evening festivities.”
“Who is Brodie in love with now? I canna believe the eejit let Kirstine go.”
“It’s the other way around and his own fault. He doesna want to wed, and she’s tired of waiting for him.” His mother gave him an elbow. “Now he’s soothing his wounded pride with Mairi again.”
Lachlan ran a hand over his face. “She’s got a pretty face but as much gumption as a wee butterfly. He’ll be bored in a fortnight.”
“Aye, but he’ll have to discover it on his own. He’s a blunderhead that way.”
The piper began, and the crowd followed him toward the church, sprinkling flower petals behind them. Clansmen were in their best kilts and dress sporrans, dirks glinting in the afternoon sun, hair clean and shining, beards trimmed or faces shaved. The women wore their best satin or silk dresses or traditional earasaids, plaids over their shoulders or across their chest, depending on their station.
The reverend welcomed the couple at the ancient kirk door. Hamish handed Nessie a sheaf of wheat, and she offered him a piece of woven cloth, as their promise to one another to provide for their home. Then they exchanged a Bible and a dagger to represent his physical, and her spiritual, pledges to defend their home.
The guests moved inside the old church. Lachlan approached the altar with the couple. He unsheathed his sword and drew a circle around the couple as they said their vows.
Then the reverend presented the couple to the crowd, saying, “You may kiss the bride.”
Lachlan smiled as he watched, swallowing the emotion in his throat. Hamish bent and brushed his wife’s lips and leaned his forehead against hers. The love between them shone brighter than the sunshine dappling through the trees. He looked up and saw Lissie, tears in her eyes as she stared at them. He felt a sudden rush of sympathy for her, realizing she and Ian had never experienced such intense, sweet passion. The rush of frenzied rapture he shared with Fenella. His smile faded. Hehadshared with her.
The ceilidh improved his mood. The castle was filled with friendly faces, and Lachlan soon had a pleasant glow from good scotch and pleasant company. He leaned against a tapestry covering the ancient stone wall and watched Brigid dance a reel, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed to match her hair. Brodie was in a corner, Mairi whispering in his ear, her hand on his arm in a familiar gesture.Hmmph.Who was he to criticize Brodie? His judgment had been no better with Fenella.
The music ended. He saw Gideon and Lissie leave the hall and walk toward the garden. His grandfather ambled toward him.
“Are ye enjoying the festivities?” asked Calum. “I’ve no’ seen ye dance yet.”
“The night is young,” he said.
“I dinna want bad feelings between us.”
“Grandda, I love ye. But this isna a good time to talk of my future unless ye’ve changed yer mind.” Lachlan pushed away from the wall. “I need to relieve myself.”
Outside, he sucked in the chilly night air. His temper was easily stoked these days, and he had no desire to argue with his grandfather tonight. They would all gather tomorrow for a family discussion.
He wandered around the perimeter of the garden, avoiding the direction his cousin and sister-in-law had taken. Someone yelled.
