Page 92 of Highlander's Sinless Nymph
The Laird nodded and smiled at his son.
“Tell me the tale, lad,” he said. Then he cast an eye over at his bath. “But feel free to tell it wi’ a bit o’ haste.”
* * *
Charlotte sat on the podium that had been erected at one end of the middle bailey—the courtyard in which loomed the keep of the MacQuarrie Castle. Around the podium were gathered a host of people from all walks of life; bakers, the Laird’s councilmen, tanners, farmers, children, and washerwomen. Edward had not disallowed anyone on attending the meeting that he had called.
Is it my imagination, or are many of the peoples’ looks cast towards me?
She was twisting her hands nervously in her lap, trying not to let her eyes stay on any one face in the crowd for too long. Edward sat next to her. His mere presence was a remedy to her nerves, though she wished he had told her exactly what he had called the assemblage together for.
Seems I shall find out soon enough.
Charlotte watched Edward get ponderously to his feet and walk stiffly to the front of the rough podium. His wounds had been cleaned and bandaged, but he had an excellent black eye blooming over a cut under his face that Captain Bolton had inflicted.
“Friends! MacQuarries!” Edward began.
There was a deal of cheering and chanting in response to this simple opening. Charlotte heard some rascal call out, “We beat the red-coats. We beat the King’s men! That’d make ye His Royal Highness, Edward, would it nae?”
There was some more cheering and laughing. Edward grinned and held out his hands for quiet.
“Aye, aye, that’s right, Willy, though dinnae let the English hear ye say such things.”
The crowd jeered at the mention of the English. Edward raised his hands again for silence. Charlotte saw that there were definitely more than a few eyes being cast her way now.
“It is concernin’ the English that I’ve gathered ye together today,” Edward said, loud and strong, so that no one at the back would miss his words. “Or, that’s to say, one English person in particular.”
He turned and looked at Charlotte, and the eyes of the crowd turned with him.
Not all of them are friendly eyes, despite the festive feel of things.
“Aye,” Edward said, smiling reassuringly at Charlotte and giving her the shadow of a wink, and then turning back to the crowd. “Aye, it is concernin’ this lass—Charlotte Bolton—that I would talk to ye all about.”
The crowd was silent now. None of them were sure what Edward was going to say next.
“Ye all ken her name well enough,” Edward said. “Bolton. Ever since this clan heard the name it has been naught but grief with us.”
There were a few derogatory comments in answer to this brief bit of rhetoric. Luckily they were in Gaelic so Charlotte could not understand them, but the tone they were spoken in was unmistakable.
“Aye,” Edward said, even more loudly now. “Nothin’ but grief. But grief, they say, walks hand in hand wi’ love. Ye cannae have one without the other.Thatis why I have asked ye all to be here today, so that there can be nay misunderstanding when I say this; I am in love wi’ Charlotte Bolton!”
The words rang around the middle bailey like it was a church. They echoed off the thick stone walls so that there was no chance of anyone not hearing.
“I love her!” Edward said again. He turned, and the usual taciturn, hard brown eyes shone with warmth and adoration as he looked at Charlotte. “And it’s me wish that she would consent to bein’ me wife.”
Charlotte felt her heart swell inside her breast. Felt it grow and expand until she thought she should burst with the joy of it.
“Edward,” she whispered, so that only he and his father, who sat nearby, could hear, “I love you! And I will. A thousand times yes!”
The Laird beamed and nodded. Edward gave her one of his wolfish grins. He turned back to the stunned crowd.
“I ken that it will sound strange to ye,” he said. “Many of ye will wonder how in the world it can be so. Some of ye might wonder why the hell so many of our lads bled the ground red in the battle that claimed too many MacQuarrie lives.”
The crowd murmured.
“Well, then,” Edward said. “Let me tell ye how this Sassenach saved me life, proved her worth, ended the feud that had engulfed this clan, and,” and he turned to smile down at his betrothed, “won me heart in the process.”
Epilogue
