Chapter 22
The rest of the day passed in an anxious blur of maids coming in and out of her bedchamber, fretting over the absence of a viable wedding gown.
Ailis could only apologize, sad at the loss of such a beautiful dress, but more and more convinced that its destruction was an omen.
I got too close, I allowed meself to forget who he is and who I am, and I got burned. What else did I expect?
She cursed her body for remembering last night more fondly.
When she removed the ruined dress, she recalled Killian pulling the borrowed shirt over her head and how eagerly he had worshiped her.
When the maids took hurried measurements, the brush of their fingertips sent her mind back to the cave, to Killian’s titillating touch.
Just closing her eyes dredged up a thousand stirring memories, her weary sighs reminding her of her ragged breathing, her nerves pulsing at random just to kick her while she was down.
After swallowing down a few mouthfuls of soup that had been foisted on her by Rachel, Ailis flinched as the castle bells chimed three times. It was time to leave for the wedding, whether she was ready or not.
“Ye’re nae dressed.” Paisley’s voice was a balm to her reeling mind.
“I have nay dress to wear,” Ailis replied, twisting around.
She frowned at the sight of a linen-wrapped package in Paisley’s arms, feeling for a moment as if last night hadn’t happened. Had it all been a vivid dream, and she had never left her bedchamber?
“I thought I could help with that,” Paisley said, tentatively stepping closer. “The seamstresses werenae happy with me, but this is for ye if ye want it.”
Ailis got up. “What is it?”
“A dress.” Paisley pulled back the linen and held the dress up for perusal.
It was beautiful. Not as grand or intricate as the original wedding gown, but exquisite all the same.
A piece of garnet red, adorned with dried flowers that had been sewn into the fabric, with some embroidered golden lace along the hem of the sleeves and skirt.
Panels of a slightly darker red had been sewn into the sides, as if it had been amended to fit someone other than its previous owner.
“I made it for me weddin’,” Paisley explained, blushing a little. “But I’ll make a new one once Fraser is released. I was never certain that the color suited me anyway, but I ken it’ll suit ye perfectly. And I’m sure Fraser wouldnae mind; he’d be happy for ye to have it when ye marry his braither.”
Ailis stared, dumbfounded, at the dress and the woman who was fast becoming a friend. “I couldnae, Paisley.”
“Aye, ye could, ye can, and ye will,” the healer replied with a smile. “I already had it altered to fit ye, so it’s nae mine anymore.”
Rubbing her throat, Ailis didn’t know what to say.
It was one of the kindest things that anyone had ever done for her.
Indeed, there had been so much kindness and consideration since she had arrived at Castle MacNairn.
A feeling she wasn’t at all accustomed to, when her life had been spent waiting for the next punishment, the next cruel word, the next insult.
All of the goodness in that place came from Skye.
“Thank ye,” she croaked as she rushed forward to hug the healer.
She didn’t care that she was crushing the dress between them; she just wanted to let Paisley know how much this gesture meant to her.
Paisley hugged her back just as tightly, patting her back. “Ye’re entirely welcome, Ailis. As I said, it’ll suit ye better anyway.”
Ailis laughed into the woman’s shoulder. “I’ve been wonderin’ for an age who ye remind me of, but it’s just come to me—ye remind me of me sister.”
“Well, that’s fortunate,” Paisley replied, pulling back, “because that’s what we’ll soon be. Together, I’m certain we can keep these MacNairn lads under control, eh?”
Ailis’s laughter faltered.
“I daenae ken about that.” She paused. “But I do hope that this weddin’ achieves some of what we’re all prayin’ for. I hope it sees Fraser returned and secures a brief peace, if nothin’ else. What I daenae want is me weddin’ turnin’ into a bloodbath, or anythin’ befallin’ Fraser because of it.”
“Yer faither, madman though he is, willnae risk losin’ the one morsel of leverage he has by hurtin’ Fraser,” Paisley stated confidently. “His value is what’s kept him alive so far. What I daenae ken is whether or nae I’ll get to see him today.”
“Me braither was very clear about them nae attendin’ the weddin’,” Ailis said apologetically. “But ye’re right. Fraser is important to them alive; he’s of nay use to them dead.”
Paisley took a deep breath. “I trust the Laird. I have all the faith that he’s made the right decision, and that his plans will bear fruit, though it’s difficult at times to stay here and do nothin’.
” She paused, offering a small smile. “So, thank ye for agreein’ to marry him.
Ye’ve given me hope that there’ll be better days to come. ”
“I didnae have much of a choice,” Ailis replied, a touch too bluntly. “Now, before everyone thinks I’m nae comin’, I should put on the dress.”
Before Paisley could say anything else, Ailis took the dress and disappeared behind the wooden privacy screen. And as her nerves began to jitter, she thought not of the icy water to chase them off, but of Killian kissing his way down her body.
Even laced with anger and confusion, that memory was more potent than anything else, leaving no room for tormenting thoughts.
Besides, as we speak, Killian’s man-at-arms is on his way to Castle Ainsley to bring Skye home.
She frowned, uncertain of when she began to think of Castle MacNairn as her home.
Killian stood in the doorway of the quaint chapel, his hand on the pommel of his sword as he surveyed the scene outside. Guards were stationed all around, some in full view, some hidden, all anticipating an ambush.
“Anythin’?” he asked the nearest man, a soldier named Rourke, who was his second-in-command in Peter’s absence.
Rourke shook his head. “Nothin’, me Laird. The scouts said they’d blow their horns if they saw any movement over yonder. Havenae heard a peep out of ‘em.”
“Doesnae mean they havenae run into trouble,” Killian pointed out. “It might just mean they cannae sound the horns.”
Rourke grimaced. “Aye, ye could be right. But the lads who came back this mornin’ said there wasnae movement from Castle Ainsley.”
“I’m nae sure that means anythin’ either,” Killian muttered, mostly to himself.
He couldn’t let himself forget what a crafty devil Laird Ainsley was. After all, nobody had noticed Murdock crossing the river to their side, when there should have been guards at every possible crossing.
That remained a mystery, all of his stationed soldiers claiming it was impossible, but Killian had left four dead bodies in the woods that argued otherwise.
Agitated, he went back inside, where a small congregation waited to bear witness to the unexpected union: a few of his councilmen and their wives, two of the maids who had been tending to Ailis, and the priest.
His gaze fell on the front pew as he moved to the altar. It was empty of all the people who should have been there to witness his wedding: his mother, his father, his brother, and his friend Peter.
Faither, if this is the worst idea I’ve ever had in me life, would ye send me a sign?
Just then, the thud of hoofbeats and the rattle of carriage wheels drew his attention to the half-open door. Everyone inside the church sat up straighter, their heads whipping around, the mood tense.
An attack? Is this it?
Feminine voices relaxed his tight shoulders, the silence of the soldiers stationed outside allowing him to expel the breath he had been holding. It was someone from Clan Ainsley, but it wasn’t a threat.
His bride had arrived, and only half an hour late.
Clearing a throat that refused to be anything but dry, his mouth sapped of moisture, Killian straightened up and waited for his bride to enter.
The doors swung wide to reveal a vision in jeweled red, dark as blood, her copper locks half pinned up by intricate braids and ornate hair slides, while the other half cascaded down her back in fiery waves.
She was breathtaking. Beautiful and fearsome, all at once. Not a pale and frightened damsel who needed saving, but a warrior queen who could fell a whole army with one vicious look.
When her eyes met Killian’s, however, they were neither warm nor frosty. Her gaze was almost resigned, the autumnal green dull instead of harboring its usual spark.
If ye’d allowed me to explain, ye wouldnae be lookin’ at me that way.
He knew he was responsible, knew that the way he had behaved that morning had given her the wrong impression, knew that he had hurt her with his distance.
He had wanted to run after her, to reassure her that he didn’t regret what had happened, but he knew that nothing he had said at that moment would have gotten through to her.
So he had given her the space she had asked for. And now, here she was, walking slowly toward him, with Paisley at her side instead of her father.
“Ye look beautiful, lass,” he said as his bride stopped before him, Paisley putting her hand in his.
Ailis made a small sound that might have been a laugh. “I thought I’d wear somethin’ befittin’ the occasion.” Her throat bobbed. “Nay one will see any injury in this color.”
“Daenae say that,” he urged, his brow creasing.
“I cannae help it, when I see soldiers everywhere,” she replied quietly.
It seemed that this was going to be a bleak wedding; no one was able to enjoy themselves or think of a happy future with such a dark shadow looming over them.
The priest cleared his throat. “May I begin?”
“Aye,” Killian uttered, stealing one last look out the door, his ears pricked for any disturbance. When he saw nothing and heard nothing, he gave a nod. “Ye can start.”
Between the threat of an attack and Ailis’s striking beauty, Killian barely remembered that he was supposed to speak as the priest rattled through a greeting and then the vows.
Apparently, even the man of God didn’t think the heavens would protect him if he lingered too long in this risky chapel, so close to the border river.
But Killian did repeat his vows, his gaze never leaving Ailis’s face as the priest weaved an embroidered length of cloth around the couple’s hands. An old tradition that they hadn’t forgotten in this part of the Highlands, even if those further south might have called it a heathen’s act.
Ailis recited her vows in turn, her voice so distant that Killian wished everyone would leave so he could explain himself.
“It’s me honor to pronounce ye man and wife,” the priest said quickly. “To the new Laird and Lady MacNairn.”
The small congregation echoed the words, rising from their seats with the eagerness of those who wanted to be anywhere else. Indeed, they barely allowed Killian and Ailis to walk ahead of them and out of the chapel, following closely behind.
“Have ye heard any news of me family?” Ailis asked as the group dispersed, hastening back to Castle MacNairn on an assortment of carts.
Killian peered down at her and gently placed his fingertips on her lips. “Ye shouldnae speak of bad things on yer weddin’ day. Just for today, let us pretend there’s nothin’ on that side of the river.”
“But—”
He wrapped his arm around her, regardless of her rule. “Must I kiss ye silent?”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but it wasn’t a true glare, a faint spark entering her green gaze. “I’m the Lady of Clan MacNairn now. It’s me duty to ken what’s happenin’ in me lands and with me clan.” A smile tried to curve her lips. “Whether it’s me weddin’ day or nae.”
“I willnae warn ye again,” he said.
“Have the soldiers spotted any movement on the other side?” she asked anyway, the spark in her eyes brightening.
Killian held her a little bit tighter. “That’s it. Ye leave me nay choice but to break yer rule.”
“Which rule might that be?” she replied in an almost sultry voice.
He dipped his head and kissed her, a few of the eagerly departing guests turning at the sight as if they hadn’t expected it. Perhaps they, too, thought this was all just for show, an outlandish scheme to put an end to the war for good.
A few murmurs of appreciation rippled through the onlookers, and a few smiles appeared on the faces of the nearest guards, a hint of hope hanging in the air like the first day of spring.
Ailis didn’t kiss him back as she had done before. Her lips barely brushed his, chaste in their press. A sure sign that all wasn’t forgiven, but, as it was their wedding, it couldn’t pass without a kiss to seal it.
Either that, or she meant what she said. That she wouldnae be near me before the weddin’ or after.
Killian kissed her again, just in case it was the last time… whether by her command or her father’s next move.