Page 26 of Pretty in Plaid
Sorley glanced up from the dance to see that both Kenna and her uncle were watching him. He grinned and excused himself from the men to join them by the hearth.
“I hear ye’ve proposed to my niece,” Laird MacLeod said.
Sorley didn’t correct the man that it had been Kenna who’d proposed first. “Aye, my laird. Alas, she denied me at the time.” He winked at her and enjoyed the flush of color on her cheeks. “I do apologize for no’ seeking your permission first.”
He glanced down at his niece and nodded. “Ye need no’ apologize. I’m no’ a stranger to passion.”
“Do ye wish to marry me still?” Kenna eyed him hopefully.
“Without question,” Sorley rushed. “I am honored and humbled. Ye’ve made me a verra happy man.”
Kenna grinned, and he wanted to reach for her, to tug her into his arms, but he hesitated.
“For goodness’s sake, kiss the lass, will ye?” Laird MacLeod bellowed. “They are to wed!”
Cheers went up around the great hall, but Sorley barely heard them. He lifted Kenna into the air by her waist and twirled her around. Then, as he put her down, he captured her mouth with his. Not caring who was there, who was watching, he kissed her with all the desire he had. He’d wanted to kiss her for days. Missed the warmth of her embrace and reveled in the feel of it now.
When they finally parted, drams of whisky were thrust into their hands, and Laird MacLeod issued a loud toast. The sounds of jubilation echoed off the rafters.
Kenna entwined their fingers and locked her gorgeous blue eyes on him. “I canna wait to be your wife, Sorley. I love ye.”
There was pure honesty in her voice, and he felt as if his chest were going to explode with emotion. “I love ye, too, lass.”
“Why wait?” Laird MacLean asked. “We have a kirk and a priest. Let’s go now.”
“Like this?” Kenna looked down at her men’s riding clothes. “I’ve no’ had a bath in days. I canna marry like this.”
“I’d have ye any way ye want,” Sorley said. “In a gown or dressed as a man. Dirty or clean. I only want ye to be mine.”
“Och, when ye say it like that…” Kenna laughed.
“Nay, nay, nay!” Lady MacLeod broke through the group of them, clapping her hands. “A bride must prepare for her wedding, and we’ll no’ send her off without it. Now, ye lads all go jump in the loch while we bathe and dress the bride.”
And so, Sorley left his intended to the care of the women, who ushered her up the stairs, while he was dragged out to the nearly frozen loch and tossed in by the men.
* * *
The wedding was a blur.Kenna was dressed in a gown that had been her mother’s and held a small posey the women put together for her from dried flowers and herbs.
Sorley too was clean and changed into a plaid and crisp, white shirt.
They said, “I do,” nearing midnight under the moon and stars.
Since they’d already had their feast, they were carried into the castle to whoops and cheers and up the stairs to a bedchamber prepared for their wedding night. Kenna barely took note of the decorations. Her eyes were on the large four-poster bed with the coverlet turned down.
Sorley shooed everyone out of the room, shutting and barring the door behind him and leaning against the wide expanse of planked wood. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and watched her as she turned in a circle.
“Wine?” she asked, seeing a jug and two cups placed out on a table, along with shortbread biscuits.
“Aye. But allow me, my lovely wife.”
Wife. The word was so foreign, and yet that was what she was. Would she ever get used to the term?
Sorley shoved off from the door, his bootheels echoing in the silence of the room as he sauntered to the table and poured out the glasses. He handed her one, the red of the wine reflecting her face at her. She sipped slowly of the rich drink, eyes on her husband.
“I didna get the chance to tell ye before that ye are utterly beautiful.” Sorley’s gaze swept the length of her. With every inch he looked on her, she felt him peeling away the layers, leaving her bare.
Kenna grinned. “Thank ye. This is my mother’s dress. I had no idea it existed.”
