CHAPTER EIGHT
Only the slightest of morning light stole through the window of Emily’s room when Isobell and two other woman arrived full of excitement to prepare her for the wedding. Emily yawned. Why hadn’t Gregor joined them last night for dinner?
She turned from the window and the niggling thought to the three expectant faces. Isobell held the gown Emily was to wear. “It’s a lovely dress. Thank you for lending it to me.”
“The color goes well with your blue eyes. The gown was made for Elspeth.” Isobell ran slim fingers over the lustrous silk fabric.
“Many years ago, Archie brought several bolts of fine cloth back from France for his sister. He had been on embassage for the king with the Campbells, and Elspeth had been betrothed to the Campbell’s second son.
Of course, that was before we were wed, and before Elspeth refused to abide by the old contract and handfasted with Finn.
” She leaned toward Emily and whispered near her ear.
“That was before they traveled to the future.”
The pale dress reminded Emily of a moonstone brooch often worn by Elspeth in Anderson Creek. It was a shame no one from home would see Emily wearing the gown. If only she hadn’t lost her cell phone before falling through time. Tevin could have taken a picture for them to share on their return.
She wrinkled her brow. Why was she getting married if they were going home?
Could Gregor travel back with them?
“I am delighted you have reconsidered your position and agreed to wed with Gregor,” the other woman said, startling her from the disturbing questions rattling around in her brain. “He is a braw lad. He will keep you and Tevin safe.”
Emily rubbed her forehead where a nagging ache pulsed over her eyes. Her mind went fuzzy. What had she been thinking?
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” she asked.
“’Tis not important. ’Twas a surprise you decided to wed with Gregor after fervently denying the possibility.”
Why did Isobell and Gregor act as if she changed her mind? She’d agreed from the beginning it would be for the best. Who wouldn’t want to marry a man as gorgeous as Gregor? Or as nice?
“I’m sure he will guard us well.”
She hoped he’d perform other husbandly duties well, too.
Would they make love tonight? The thought made her insides tighten with anticipation.
Isobell dropped the dress over Emily’s head and shoulders.
Fortunately, the women couldn’t see the scarlet color that must be blushing her cheeks from her risqué imaginings.
The silk slipped smoothly over her hips and draped to the floor, the sensuous touch of the fabric against bare skin making her feel beautiful.
“I am a bit uneasy having pressured you.” Isobell stepped away. Her critical gaze slid over Emily from head to bare foot. She nodded with approval, a genuine smile curving her lips. “You see, I refused to wed with Archie on the eve of our marriage.”
“Really? Why?”
“I was angry. Proud. I didn’t want to be told what to do by a man I nae longer trusted, one who nae longer trusted me. He ordered me put in the dungeon until I reconsidered my position and agreed to wed him.”
“He didn’t? That’s horrible.”
“Not so bad. Really. Munn came to me, offering a fine wine. ’Twas the best wine I had ever tasted. ’Twas spelled by magic. You ken? Made me verra agreeable.”
“So then what happened?”
“We wed. But when the wine wore off, I was verra, verra angry with Archie and ran away. I was a foolish lass. ’Twas a snowy night.
A dangerous night to be abroad. I became entranced by a strange light, which guided me through the blustery snow to the Sithichean Sluaigh, the knoll of the Fae.
On the knoll, ’twas like spring, and I stumbled through time to Anderson Creek.
” She waved a hand in dismissal. “All of that has long been forgotten and I love my husband and bairns verra much. Shall we do your hair?”
“Yes. But tell me how you and Archie got back together.”
“He came after me. He always will. As will your Gregor.”
“He’s not mine. He only agreed to marry me because Archie forced him. He doesn’t have real feelings for me. He couldn’t. We just met.”
“And you? Do you have real feelings for him?”
Did she? Maybe. “Like I said, we just met.”
“Good marriages have been based on less.”
The older of the women held a length of plaited yellow flowers and ribbons to be woven through Emily’s hair while the other worked to entwine the garland through looped braids pinned atop her head. The pineapple-like fragrance tickled her nose.
After the women were satisfied with her appearance, Emily followed Isobell down the circular stairs, careful of her footing.
The long gown made the descent in skimpy slippers risky.
She huffed a breath when they reached the lower floor.
At the entrance to the great hall, she stopped, searching for Gregor’s form among those men already gathered, her emotions all aflutter.
There he is.
The hairs on the back of Gregor’s neck stood on end with awareness. Emily. He spun around, and there she stood just within the doorway, stealing his breath with her beauty.
He strode toward her with purpose. Grasping her small hand within his much larger, calloused one, he bowed, breathing a light kiss on the tips of her fingers.
A lovely blush brightened her cheeks.
“Shall we?” He crooked an arm, offering escort.
She gave a quick nod and rested her fingers on his forearm with the lightest of touches, allowing his guidance down a short flight of stairs and into the gloom of the courtyard shaded by stark castle walls.
They slipped through the gate and into the yard and were greeted by the golden rays of the rising sun.
He blinked. Emily shaded her eyes with her free hand.
Several currachs carried a party of men across the small bay, lads straining at the oars as they cut through an unusually rough surf to beach on the opposite shore.
An angry sound growled from his throat before he could stop the sour utterance.
Emily stiffened. “What is wrong?”
“Naught. I am sorry.” He used his free hand to pat the fingers resting on his arm. “I am glad to see Ciaran leave. ’Tis all.”
“You sounded more angry than glad.”
“The man has a penchant for irritating folks.”
“Ciaran? That name seems familiar.”
“Aye. He has been filling Lach and Tevin’s heads with fantasies this past day about treasure and dragons in the mountains northeast of here.”
“Oh no. Tevin believes his destiny is to kill an orange dragon.”
“Ach, well, we are free of Ciaran for a while. His duty takes him far from Castle Lachlan.”
“That is probably for the best.” Emily relaxed. “What are those unusual boats in which the men travel?”
“They are currachs made of wicker and skins. Those at the castle often use the wee crafts to travel back and forth to the mainland. ’Tis how I brought you here.”
“I’m sorry. My manners have been lacking. Thank you for rescuing me.”
“’Twas my pleasure, mistress.”
“We’ll be married in a few hours. Shouldn’t you address me just as Emily?”
“If that is your wish.” Warmth infused his chest.
“It is.”
“Perhaps after we swear our vows before the priest we will cross to the stables and ride to a hunting lodge tucked in the Fir-wood not far from here. The chief has given me leave to spend several days alone with you to celebrate our nuptials. Would you enjoy such a jaunt?” The thought of what they would do while at the lodge made his blood thicken. He hoped she was amenable.
Emily jounced on her heels, pulled her hand away, and hugged him quick.
Mercy. He tightened a slackened jaw. He liked this exuberant Emily very much indeed.
“Oh! Thank you.” She once again placed her hand sedately on his arm. “That would be wonderful. I miss my horse.”
He guided her along the path toward the garden. Did only the chance to ride interest her? “You have your own horse in the land you come from?”
“Yes. You sound surprised. His name is Black Pepper.”
Piobar Dubh. “Your family must be wealthy.”
She shrugged. “Middle class, but I received a small inheritance from my grandmother, which pays for his upkeep.”
Gregor had no idea what middle class meant, and he worried, mayhap, they didn’t suit. He still didn’t quite understand all the chief tried to explain about her circumstances. Would she be happier with someone from her own land?
They continued along the path in silence, his previous eagerness subdued.
Did he really want to wed a stranger? From a faraway land? And if he understood correctly, from another time? Though he could barely credit such a fanciful notion.
At the garden archway, he slipped her hand into his and entered first to ensure naught was awry. He’d vowed to keep her safe.
“Oh, this is lovely,” she said as they traversed the path through the garden beds filled with vegetables and herbs to the rose garden, where he seated her on the turf bench, abloom with small, fragrant white flowers. The gentle scent was heady. As was her beauty.
“I owe you an apology,” she said.
He frowned. “Whatever for?”
“For not believing your story about the pixies.”
“I guess ’tis hard to believe in something you have never seen.”
“I saw one last night.”
Her admission made his brows rise. “You did?”
“Yeah. In my room, while I was bathing. Before you came. She wore a purple gown and had sheer lavender wings. Like that one there.” Emily pointed to a dragonfly-like creature perched on a shiny rose leaf.
He held out a hand and the ebony-haired pixie jounced onto his palm.
Tee teehee hee. Tee teehee hee. Tee teehee hee.
The wee creature’s voice tinkled like the sweetest chimes.
“Here is another!” Emily leapt to her feet and held out a hand. A blonde pixie with green wings landed on an outstretched finger. “This one has iridescent peridot wings.”
Gregor brought his hand closer to his face for a better look at the one he held.
Emily did the same with hers. “Hello,” she murmured.
Tee teehee hee. The pixies giggled again, before blowing dust into their faces. Then with more giggles, they flew away, high over the garden wall.
Emily and Gregor sneezed in unison, and then dropped onto the bench, overcome with laughter. Tears of merriment streamed from both their eyes.
“They are so cute,” Emily said, when she sobered.
“The gemstone in your wedding ring is the same color as the green pixie’s wings.
I sent a missive to my father last night requesting it be brought here in all due haste.
I fear I must present you with a temporary, lesser quality substitute at the ceremony today.
I doubt my mother’s gold ring will arrive in time. ”
“A peridot. How lovely.” Emily twisted on the seat to look directly at him. “Your mother’s ring?”
“She passed many years ago during childbirth.”
“I’m sorry.” Compassion filled her gaze. “Your father? Should the wedding be postponed until he arrives? I don’t know much about you and nothing about your family. Don’t you think that odd?”
“I dinnae ken much about you or your family either. We will each learn about the other as time allows.” He flexed his shoulders.
“The chief would not want the wedding postponed. And it is likely the ring will be sent with a messenger. My father is Allain of Dunadd. He is kept busy overseeing Dunadd, another of the Clan MacLachlan holdings.”
A loud horn blast sounded, and Emily startled.
“They summon us to our wedding meal.” Gregor stood and held out a firm hand to Emily. They were about to embark on a new chapter in their lives.