Chapter 24
Exhaustion, at least for her feet, finally began to claim Willow, and she smiled with a chuckle at Keegan as she eyed the door.
“I think it is time to begin the beddan. I willnae make it another moment without truly dropping to the floor. I shall make the first attempt to retire.”
Keegan laughed along with her. “Aye, lass. I couldnae agree with ye more. I’ve certainly had me fill of dancing for the evening. Och, for me life, if I’m honest.”
Willow giggled, slipping past him and straight toward the door.
She could hear Keegan’s soft steps a few paces behind her.
Perhaps they would make it all the way to the bed chamber without being noticed.
If luck was indeed on her side, Willow would make it to the chambers, and no one would arrive to pull her back out again.
She was not that lucky, however.
“We’ve made it,” Willow sighed, flopping back onto the bed as Keegan sat near the head. “Do ye think—”
“We’ll have none of that!” Rodrick called out, and their room was flooded with a gang of guests as the door burst open. “The Beddin’ with ye!”
As tired as she was, Willow couldn’t deny the motley crew their traditions, and it was rather hilarious. She was pulled from the bed and tossed about the room between the guests, each of whom demanded a quick one-two of dancing before passing her to the next person in line.
“There’s our bonny bride!” called Melissa. “We’ll be sure she’s sleeping like a rock, Brother!”
Willow balked slightly before it broke into a laugh.
If Melissa was seeking to prevent the consummation of the marriage by only making Willow exhausted, she had bad news for her sister-in-law.
Keegan was hardly one to let a little tiredness stand in his way if her time on the road with him was anything to go by.
“Ye are all mad! Let me rest!” Willow grinned, laughing heartily.
It struck her that Lilith did not appear to be there, but Willow was hardly about to make a fuss over it. It was one fewer person to suffer through during the beddan, and the lass could very well be relieving herself or taken to bed.
The last in attendance spun Willow around in a wide circle and then plopped her down into the bed. Sure enough, it was Rodrick who’d deposited her into the bed, which she was finally able to piece together when the room stopped spinning.
“Whiskey!” Rodrick held out a hand, and Melissa handed the liquor to him along with a bit of bread. “Och, good lass! And to ye, Lady Willow.”
Rodrick handed her the items, along with a bit of cheese that he pulled from his pocket, where it had been kept safe by being wrapped in a cloth.
“To me kind and valiant guests.” Willow raised them up in the air before handing out a dram and a broken piece of the food to each person there.
“Yer foot, if ye please, lassie.” Melissa grinned from ear to ear as she held out her hand for Willow’s left ankle.
The bride did as requested, sticking out her left foot from beneath the covers and laying it in Melissa’s grip. Her sister-in-law yanked off her stocking, and Willow laughed as the cool air instantly caused her skin to erupt in goosebumps.
“Over with it!” The room called out, and Willow took the stocking from Melissa, then turned her back to the crowd.
Flinging the thing over her left shoulder, Willow tossed the bit of fabric into the gathered guests, and they all began to fight over who might claim it as theirs.
“Och, keep it friendly, lads,” Keegan called out with a laugh, and Willow faced them all again, watching everyone scramble over each other in an attempt to snatch up the stocking for themselves.
It was chaos until, in a low thump, the men crashed together, and the only one left standing—holding the toe end of the stocking so it dangled over the fallen clansmen—was Rodrick.
Willow’s brows rose, and she smiled. “Well, now, it looks like Rodrick will be our next clansmen to wed. Congratulations!”
He smirked, clearly not believing in the validity of the tradition over much. But he shrugged a shoulder and laughed as the other men crowed out discordant boos before all devolving into fits of giggles.
“I shall look forward to another wedding.” From the back of the room, the priest who’d married Willow and Keegan stepped forward from where he’d steered clear of the tangle. “For now, me laird and lady, a blessing.”
Everyone quieted at once, allowing the clergyman to step forward toward the marriage bed. He smiled in that practiced way that priests were so good at, and Willow swallowed hard as Keegan sat next to her. It was suddenly quite challenging to keep the thoughts of what came next from her mind.
“May ye be blessed in all ways, Laird Keegan Aragain of the Brahanne. And to you, Lady Willow, now Lady Brahanne.” He clasped his hands together, bowing his head to them as he closed his eyes; the entire room did the same.
“May green be the grass where ye tread, may blue be the skies over ye and this bonny castle, May lasting be the joys around ye, and may true be the hearts that love ye.”
Willow’s heart was a hammer against her ribs, and she fought the urge to look over at Keegan. She was able to resist, though, and the priest started with the next of his passages in Gaelic.
“A thousand good evenings to ye with yer marriage. May ye both be happy and healthy all yer days. May ye be blessed with longevity and peace for the whole of Clan Brahanne, and may ye grow old together, surrounded by goodness and with riches.”
With a clap, the priest bid them all to look up once more, and he smiled as he raised his hands over Willow and Keegan as they sat in the bed.
“May ye ken only happiness from this day forward. May ye see yer children’s children. And may the line of yer name prosper in this the marriage bed!”
The whiskey was raised once more, and both Melissa and Rodrick called out, “Slàinte Mhath!”
Cheers returned the call, and everyone drank a hearty pass of the whiskey before they all filtered out of the room, leaving Willow and Keegan alone at last.
The silence felt absurdly heavy on her shoulders, and Willow was too aware of her heartbeat as she stared down at the bed. She could hear Keegan breathing, and the bedding dipped down as he adjusted.
“Ye are quiet, Willow. It’s quite the change.”
Her attention flicked to him instantly, and Willow narrowed her eyes with a playful smirk. It seemed her new husband knew just what to say to take her out of her head.
Me husband…
“It’s been a rather raucous day, Keegan.” She teased with a glare. “I thought perhaps it would be a pleasant change to have a moment of quiet.”
Keegan nodded, the corners of his mouth tugging down, and then he slowly shifted toward her on the bed. The laird took her hands, and Willow fought to remain steady, shooing away the tremble that threatened to worm through her.
“Would ye prefer to eat for a moment? I may have had the servant sneak up a bit of the feast.”
Willow’s eyes widened as the rumble in her stomach confirmed how very hungry she was.
With a smile, she nodded, and Keegan stood up from the bed and walked to the small table off to the side in his chambers.
There was a thin cloth over it, and when the laird pulled it away, a small banquet was laid out for them.
“Och! Ye are brilliant!” Willow laughed. “I was pulled to the floor to dance every time I sought to fill meself more. I feel as though I barely ate a thing.”
Keegan chuckled. “I thought that might be the case. I was watchin' ye a bit, and it dinnae look as if ye’d been able to get yer hands on much.”
He scooped up several pieces of fruit and cheese and bread onto a small plate and brought it over to the bed, setting it between them. Willow took one of the plump purple grapes and popped it into her mouth with a contented sigh. After a moment, she looked up at Keegan again and smirked.
“Ye were watchin' me?” She raised her brows. “Or were ye tryin' to study yer brother’s moves to improve yer dancin'?”
With a bark of laughter, Keegan’s jaw fell open in mock offense, and he tossed one of the grapes at her. “Ye damage me so!”
They were all giggles for a time, and then Willow sighed, taking the thrown fruit and eating it up in one bite.
“Och, I ken that I’m nay skilled dancer.” Keegan shrugged, taking a bit of the cheese to nibble on. “Perhaps ye would be better served by Damon, were he here. Though, I daenae ken if he’d be as keen on sharin' his meal.”
Willow snorted for a moment until she could swallow. “I have noticed that the man is rather protective of his plate.”
Keegan smiled down at her, his stare raking over her as Willow lay across the bed on her side.
“Aye. I have to believe it has something to do with how much I would steal from him when we were lads. But that was several years ago. Damon mustn’t think I would do the same now.”
As Willow reached for a piece of bread, Keegan swiped it from her fingers.
“Keegan!”
He laughed. “Och, perhaps ye're right. Me brother does have a call to think I might steal from him.”
They both grinned, chuckling as the moment allowed both of them to relax a bit. They weren’t in any rush to…get things moving, after all, and Willow could mentally admit that she was anxious about finally laying with someone, particularly Keegan.
The moment between them stretched on for what had to have been an hour. Keegan told her more about his relationship with Damon, commenting on how proud he was that his brother had seen how this mattered to him and apologized to him about how he’d treated her.
“I understand why he dinnae care for me upon me arrival. Everything associated with Magnus has been one disaster after the other in me life, and I only hope that this will finally allow me some peace.”
Keegan’s brows knitted together, and Willow realized that it was the first time she’d spoken so bluntly about living with Laird McCallum.
“I ken he isnae kind to ye, Willow. At the verra least, I can promise ye I willnae be the same.”
She smiled, reaching across the bed to take Keegan’s hand.
They’d long since picked away at the food, and the empty plate was back on the table with the remaining items. They could stay in this room for quite a while with how much Keegan had brought up, and Willow had a feeling it was done purposefully—giving them both the time to… complete things.
“I thank ye for that, Keegan. Truly.” She squeezed his hand, and Keegan turned it over, holding hers properly. “I kenned from the moment I met ye, though, that ye are a different man than Magnus. He wouldnae have spared me men.”
Willow expected Keegan to let go, but he didn’t. Instead, the laird returned the squeeze to her hand while he shortened the distance between them. Sitting on his hip as he was, Keegan had one leg bent, and the position nearly revealed quite a bit, considering his kilt.
“Thank ye, Willow. It matters to me a great deal that I daenae put forth the same image as Magnus.”
It was quiet again, and Willow couldn’t help but roam her eyes over Keegan’s form. They’d shed the outer layers of their clothing, his plaid and shirt were the only things remaining on him, Keegan’s boots and fastenings stowed by the table.
Willow had also removed the restrictive stays that had helped to create the gorgeous gown along with the outer skirts. She lay across the bed now in only her shift, and a long tartan cloth wrapped around her shoulders to stave off the chill.
While they’d been in quite intimate moments before, there was something about seeing each other in such a state of undress and leisure. It served to ease her nervousness as much as the conversation did, and Willow was extremely grateful for it.
Keegan slid his hand out of hers, crawling his fingers gently up her arm.
Willow shivered, the sensation overwhelming and curious.
Her new husband slid his palm up to her face, cupping Willow’s cheek gently.
The caress was soft and unhurried, and she could sense the restrained tension in Keegan’s fingers.
“Willow, I…” He stared down into her eyes, searching for the words. “I wish for ye to understand that I expect nae a thing from ye. I willnae lie to ye and say that I daenae want…”
The words trailed off as Keegan stared at Willow’s lips. But he shook himself and restarted.
“I willnae do anythin' ye daenae wish for.” Willow’s jaw dropped slightly, and Keegan smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip. “It has been painful to keep meself from ye, lass. If only this, I must touch ye, but I willnae claim ye as mine if ye are put off by the notion.”
Confusion and excitement and apprehension tumbled through Willow’s body, and she was thrown about by the emotions and thoughts as if she were a boat that had lost its mooring.
“I am yer wife, Keegan.” Willow’s voice was soft, unsure. “Ye are permitted to consummate the marriage. Between this and the words at the exchange, it is believed that me honor has been compromised already. I willnae see another day when the clans think me untouched.”
Both of Keegan’s hands came to Willow’s face, and he looked her dead in the eye, the low flicker of the firelight making them glow like sapphires.
“This isnae about what anyone might think or the fact that ye’re me wife now.
This is about what ye wish for, Willow.” Her husband closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath that shook his entire body.
“I have thought of ye nearly every moment, memories of the study impossible to leave behind me. Yer presence does something to me, Willow. It has since that first day with ye.”
Willow had never thought that she might see Keegan like this, so stripped down and open.
She could see such a light behind his eyes that shined with a potent, raw need.
As much as she knew that she should feel differently—him being a former enemy and the very man who stole her from her previous engagement—Willow had also been fascinated by Keegan since the moment she laid eyes on him.
And he was listening to her wishes. He was willing to deny himself to give her the space to make this choice for herself.
So she did.
“Keegan,” she put her hands on top of his, guiding them down from her face to the back of her neck, “ye talk too much.”
And with that, she kissed him, giving every fiber of herself to the feeling of his lips on hers, of him.
Keegan, Laird Brahanne, and her husband.