Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Ewan, his hand at her waist, guided her among the clamor, introducing her to each member of the Council and their wives. Tyra warmed by his touch, smiled, returned the greetings, and accepted the curtsies and the bobbing heads.
Goodness. I shall never remember all these names.
She was almost lost in a haze of disbelief that so many were there to wish her well and that the gathering was in honor of her marriage to their laird. She glanced up at the tall, handsome distinguished, figure by her side.
Me husband.
She almost laughed at the unfamiliarity of it. Being addressed as “Lady Mackenzie” was most strange to her ears. There were even some moments when she glanced around imagining Isla was the one to whom the person’s remarks were meant.
Yet, through all the busy confusion, it was as if Ewan could read her mind. His arm remained at her waist guiding her through the throng, steadying her sometimes faltering steps. He bent and whispered in her ear, as if to remind her.
“Ye’re me wife now, Lady Mackenzie.”
Smiling, she looked up, meeting his eyes as the now familiar lightning strike flashed heat through her veins.
“And ye look more than bonnie in yer new yellow gown.”
She laughed, both flattered and surprised that he recalled her purchase.
As they, at last, took their seats at the high table, Duncan got to his feet, raising his goblet.
“Let us drink tae the health and happiness of me braither, yer laird, and his bonnie bride, Lady Tyra.”
All around the hall came the cries of “Slàinte mhath, Laird Ewan and Lady Tyra,” as the assembly drank to them both.
Her heart overflowed with the warmth of their acceptance. She glanced at Ewan who was basking in the approval of his Council. He looked her way, and took her hand, raising it to his lips for a soft kiss, his eyes meeting hers as she melted with the pleasure of it and the joy of the moment.
For all the short notice for preparation and the scarcity of ingredients, the cook had created a splendid feast of roast wild boar and roast ducks, served with honeyed carrots and neeps.
They were sitting back, almost replete, when Joseph appeared at the entrance to the hall. He bustled in, red-faced and breathless.
Catching Ewan’s eye, he hurried over.
“What is it lad?” There was a harried note in Ewan’s voice that sent shivers through Tyra. Surely it could only be a matter of great urgency that would bring Joseph in such disarray to disturb his laird at his wedding feast.
Oh, dear Lord, has the castle been attacked? Has Harris MacDonald decided tae wreak his revenge and rampage through our night of festivity?
Heart stuttering in dismay, Tyra held her breath as Joseph came closer. Ewan got to his feet and met with the man a few feet away and she had to strain her ears to hear what passed between them.
The words “now here… on their way from the landing…” caused her to gasp. This could only mean that MacDonald had already arrived and he and his men were on their way to the keep. A shiver coursed through her and her stomach roiled, making her feel physically ill.
Her head swimming with dizziness, she clasped a hand to her mouth to stop the cry of despair leaving her lips.
Ewan turned to her, raising an anxious brow. “All color has fled from yer bonnie cheeks, lass. What ails ye?”
Both Joseph and Ewan were looking at her with concern. She shook her head. “I heard… I feared… that we were being invaded.”
Ewan reached a hand to her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, his mouth curving in a smile. “Nay lass, dinnae fash, ‘tis the good news ye’ve been waiting fer. Yer braither and his party are at the landing place. Joseph has sent men tae escort them, they will be with us soon.”
The breath she’d been holding escaped from her lungs in a whoosh and she smiled up into his blue eyes.
“Oh me dear husband, yer words bring me such joy.” All at once her heart was racing with happiness at the thought of seeing her half-brother and his dear wife, Annora.
But there was still a fearful shadow darkening her delight.
Her marriage to Ewan had taken place only a matter of hours ago. If Edmund did not approve he could still make application for it to be annulled. An irregular marriage could be set aside if there was no consummation.
All at once she was washed with the awareness that, more than anything, she needed her brother’s approval of her marriage to Laird Ewan.
She had no wish to continue her journey to the priory to live among the nuns awaiting her brother’s approval for a suitable match to be made. This was where she belonged.
She clutched Ewan’s hand. This marriage was so newly hatched. How could they ever convince Edmund this was a genuine union between two amicable partners when there were still so many things that were raw and unsaid hanging between her and Ewan?
“Come Lady Mackenzie.” He grinned as he emphasized her name, reaching his large hand to assist her from her seat. “We must greet me new braither-in-law and his lady wife.” He adjusted her fur cloak around her shoulders. “Ye’ve naught to fear.”
Despite Ewan’s reassuring words her confidence failed her. She was only too aware that she and Ewan would be under the closest of scrutiny that night. Not only from the watchful Mackenzie council members, but now from the probing gazes of her half-brother his wife.
Both Edmund and Annora had watched over her with concern throughout the time of her betrothal to Harris MacDonald.
They’d observed his lack of concern and his controlling and heartless behavior toward her.
Ultimately it had become hatefully clear that, to him, she was nothing more than a tool of his ambition.
He wanted the lairdship of her clan and she was his means to that end.
Nothing more. There was no love, only calculated, grasping, greed.
She took a deep breath at the memory of the deep sorrow she’d experienced when the evil of the man she’d loved had been exposed, and the full knowledge of his betrayal to both her and to her clan became public knowledge.
She clutched Ewan’s sleeve. “Me braither will be harboring a great deal of suspicion about our marriage.”
Ewan raised a puzzled brow. “What dae ye mean? I understand he wishes tae discuss the rèiteach and tae meet with our elders tae confirm and sign the contract. But what reason would he have tae be suspicious beyond the usual dealings when a betrothal is proposed? Surely, he would be aware that Clan Mackenzie is in good favor with King Robert.”
“Of course. But I believe his concern lies with me. He and me sister-in-law Annora ken how sorely I took MacDonald’s betrayal. I daresay they will wish to reassure themselves that me heart willnae be put at risk again.”
Ewan nodded thoughtfully. “Aye. I understand. We must dae our best tae help him see that there is nay heartbreak or betrayal in store fer ye.”
Tyra nodded. “Aye,” she said, uncertainly. How this could be achieved she could not yet conceive. After all, in her heart she knew that she was again being used as a man’s tool to achieve his own purpose.
Only what it was Ewan required of their union, and why he’d insisted on this marriage, she was yet to learn. She knew it was more than simply to achieve the Mackenzie clan’s access to the trade route around Skye.
Musing on this, as she walked with him to the entrance to the keep, her heart grew heavy.
As she had only first met Ewan a matter of days ago, Edmund would hardly be expecting theirs to be a love match. Love took time to bloom and blossom and, while in her heart she hoped this may one day be the case, what was there between them now that could convince Edmund theirs was a genuine match?
In truth, her brother need only believe she was safe and that this marriage was what she had chosen freely, without coercion and without pressure and that Ewan was a fair, kind, and honest man.
Establishing all that would not pose a challenge. Her spirits lifted. All of it was true of Ewan and would quickly become evident to Edmund.
But it was Annora who would need convincing that marriage to Laird Ewan was genuinely what Tyra’s heart desired.
Annora would be alert to every small thing she witnessed passing between them.
Every gesture, every meeting of their eyes, every moment, whether it might be of fondness and respect or coldness and disaffection, would be weighed under Annora’s astute gaze.
One thing Tyra was certain of, was that neither Edmund nor Annora would be satisfied if they had even the slightest fear her happiness was at risk.
As they reached the entrance to the keep and took up position at the top of the stairs, she tucked her arm into Ewan's and pasted a smile on her face, breathing deeply to steady the raging butterflies in her belly.
She glanced at Ewan. “How on earth are we tae convince Edmund and Annora that all is well in this hasty marriage of ours?”
He smiled. “Dinnae fash, Lady Mackenzie. All will be well.”
She took some solace in the certainty of his tone.
By the time Joseph escorted her brother and sister-in-law and their two companions across the courtyard Tyra was ready to greet them.
Edmund and Annora were all smiles as they walked up the stairs and they each greeted her with a hearty embrace.
“It is good tae see ye safe,” Edmund said, taking a step back to hold her at arm’s length, studying her from head to toe. “Ye look well.”
Annora grinned. “And that is a glorious gown, me sweet Tyra.”
Of course, Annora’s probing eyes would notice the new gown right away.
Ewan quickly greeted Edmund’s companions, Lionel MacLaren and Tormod MacNeacail, passing a word to Joseph to accompany them into the keep. As the two men disappeared, seeing that Tyra was welcoming their guests, he turned to Edmund, proffering his hand.