Page 43 of A Virgin for the Highland Beast
“Aye,” Emma answered as she looped her arm through Lydia’s. “Let us retire.”
Emma couldn’t help but steal one last glance at Hunter. His hawk-like gaze never seemed to waver. He gave a nod, and Emma noticed a guard emerging from the hallway, ready to escort her and Lydia to their chambers.
Although Emma understood Hunter’s reasoning for the extra security, she wished she didn’t need it. But knowing that Hunter was doing everything he could to uphold his promise to her made her smile.
As Emma gave her sister a kiss goodnight, she felt a sense of foreboding growing within her. There was no telling what the day would hold for them. If they’d have an uneventful wedding, or if her cousin would swoop in at the last moment and steal her away. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Emma tried to sleep but found her night restless and her dreams filled with crying and screams of terror. No matter how many times she closed her eyes, she saw her sisters torn from her, leaving her with nothing.
It was one horrific nightmare after another that jarred her awake on the morning of her wedding. She shot out of bed and found her sisters at her side, ready to dress her.
The day enveloped her in a haze, and as hard as she tried to snap out of it, she found herself sinking ever deeper into a dream-like state.
Even the walk to the kirk, trailed by her sisters, felt surreal. The absence of her parents pained her, yet she realized that their presence would negate her current predicament.
Stepping into the kirk, she saw Hunter, adorned in his family colors, his sword presented to her as a pledge of his life. As the knot was tied around their wrists, a sense of permanency set in, culminating in a kiss that jolted her out of her stupor. His passionate kiss awoke something within her that stirred her heart, and confirmed a hidden truth.
Hunter was not the man he portrayed himself to be. He was a warrior, a protector, and now her husband.
As the cheering echoed through the kirk, Hunter led Emma down the aisle, his grip firm on her hand. Her heart pounded a staccato rhythm, yet all she saw was him—Hunter, her husband. They made their way to the garden, where Katie had managed to gather the tables for the clan to sit. Emma took her place beside Hunter and watched as he raised his goblet to the sky.
“Today, I present to ye me wife, Lady MacRoss,” Hunter announced, much to everyone’s cheer.
Emma glanced at her sisters. The task of protecting seemed to solidify and become more secure with each passing moment.
“Let the celebrations commence.” Hunter’s voice resonated through the festive crowd as men and women rose to join the festivities.
“Ye can relax now,” Hunter said as he sat beside Emma and took her hand in his. “Ye’re mine. There’s nay man alive who can break the vows made before God Almighty.”
“It’s been a whirlwind, and I still dinnae think I have me head straight,” Emma confessed as Hunter filled her cup with wine.
“Drink this, and quickly. Ye’ll find it helps take the edge off a bit.”
Emma grabbed the goblet and sniffed it. The scent was sour to her nose, and she questioned Hunter’s motives for giving it to her. He gave a reassuring nod of the head, encouraging her to at least try. Drawing the cup to her lips, she took a sip. The sweetness stunned her, and before she knew it, the entirety of the drink was gone.
“I’d go easy on that if I were ye. It may ease things now, but nae so much, come tomorrow. I’d like to think me wife remembers the day she married me.”
“I doubt this will be an event I could forget,” Emma said as Hunter poured another glass for her.
“What shall we watch first?” Hunter asked. “Dancin’? Archery? Me maither has managed to organize a great deal of entertainment for us on such short notice.”
“Archery,” Emma blurted out as her eyes shifted to Isobel. “Me sister has been dyin’ to show off her skills.”
“Well, I wouldnae put too much stock in yer sister’s abilities, when she’s up against me guards,” Hunter said, and Emma couldn’t help but hear a note of teasing in his voice.
It was nice to hear him sounding lighter than usual. She glanced at her cup and wondered how much he’d had of the wine or if he’d be the one to forget the day he’d married her.
“Archers, on yer mark,” Hunter announced.
Emma watched as Isobel jumped up, eager to participate. She knew this was Isobel’s time to shine.
Indeed, Isobel proved her mettle, hitting the mark thrice consecutively without a single miss, drawing gasps of admiration from the crowd.
“I may have underestimated yer sister’s skills,” Hunter whispered in Emma’s ear as she cheered Isobel.
As they celebrated Isobel’s victory, Emma caught sight of Hunter’s smile. It was a rare sight, one that tugged at her heart.
“Ye should smile more often, it suits ye,” Emma said as she caught the gleam in his eyes.
