Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Maighread found a quiet corner near the kitchens after the wounded had been settled. Her hands were stained with blood and soot, her robe filthy, her hair falling loose from its braid. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, letting exhaustion wash over her.
Footsteps approached. She knew them instantly.
"Ye should rest," Tavish said.
She opened her eyes. He stood before her, equally filthy, equally exhausted. A cut above his eyebrow had stopped bleeding but needed cleaning.
"So should ye."
"In a moment." He stepped closer, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered against her cheek. "Ye were brilliant. The way ye organized everything, kept everyone calm. Ye're a born leader."
"I just did what needed daeing."
"Na. Ye did more than that." His thumb traced along her jaw. "Ye gave people hope when they had none. That's nae a small thing."
Her throat tightened. "I was terrified the entire time."
"I ken. But ye didnae show it. That takes strength."
"I thought ye might nae come back."
"I told ye I would. I always will." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "Naething will keep me from returning tae ye. Nae Sinclair, nae war, nae death itself. I'll always find me way back."
Maighread's eyes burned. She reached up and pulled him down into a kiss, tasting smoke and exhaustion and something fiercer.
He responded immediately, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her flush against him.
The kiss deepened, turned hungry, both of them pouring fear and relief into the contact.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, she pressed her forehead to his.
"I love ye," she whispered.
"I love ye too. More than anything."
They stood like that for a long moment, just breathing together, grounding each other. Then Tavish pulled back slightly, his expression shifting into something harder.
"There's something ye need tae ken."
Her stomach clenched. "What?"
"Scouts returned while we were tending the wounded. Sinclair forces have been spotted less than a day's ride from here. A larger force than what attacked the villages. They're coming, Maighread. Soon."
Ice flooded her veins. "How many?"
"At least a hundred men. Maybe more."
"When will they arrive?"
"Tomorrow. Day after at the latest." His jaw tightened. "There's nae time left fer wedding preparations. We need tae focus on defense. Fortify the walls, position archers, prepare fer siege. Every moment counts."
Maighread stared at him, her mind racing. Tomorrow. Sinclair would be there tomorrow. And her father might not live much longer. If they waited to marry until after the battle, if something happened to either of them…
"Nay," she said firmly.
Tavish frowned. "What?"
"I said nay. I willnae go tae war unmarried."
"Maighread—"
"We marry today. Now. Before Sinclair arrives, before anything else can happen." Her voice strengthened. "I willnae risk losing ye without being yer wife. I willnae risk me faither dying before he sees us wed. And I willnae give Keir any opportunity tae use our unmarried state against us."
"There's nay time fer a proper ceremony."
"I dinnae need proper. I just need ye, me, and vows spoken before witnesses." She gripped his shirt. "Please. We can manage both. Marry me now, then we prepare fer war taegether as husband and wife."
Tavish studied her face, reading the determination there. Then slowly, he nodded.
"Aye. Alright. Today."
Relief flooded through her. "Thank ye."
"I'll speak tae the priest. Get Greg and a few others. We'll make it happen within the hour."
"I'll get Kathleen and find something suitable tae wear."
He caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. "I'd marry ye in that filthy robe if that's all we had."
"Well, ye willnae have tae. Give me an hour."
"One hour. Then ye're mine."
"I've been yers since the moment ye saved me on that road."
His eyes blazed. He kissed her again, quick and fierce, then released her and strode away toward the chapel. Maighread watched him go, her heart pounding, then turned and ran toward her chamber.
She found Kathleen in the corridor, directing servants. "I need yer help. Now."
Kathleen took one look at her face and nodded. "What's happening?"
"I'm getting married. In an hour."
"What? But the wedding isnae fer—"
"Plans changed. Sinclair's coming. We're marrying today." Maighread pushed open her chamber door. "I need tae look presentable and ye're the only one I trust tae help me manage it quickly."
Kathleen followed her inside, already assessing the situation. "Right. First, ye need a bath. Ye cannae marry covered in blood and soot."
"There's nay time fer a proper bath."
"Then an improper one." Kathleen called for servants, who appeared with buckets of warm water within minutes. "Strip. Quickly."
Maighread obeyed, shedding the filthy dress while Kathleen poured water into the basin. The washing was fast and practical, removing the worst of the grime. Kathleen worked efficiently, scrubbing and rinsing without wasting a moment.
"Are ye certain about this?" Kathleen asked as she worked. "Marrying in such haste?"
"I've never been more certain of anything."
"Ye love him."
"Aye. Desperately."
Kathleen smiled. "Good. He loves ye too. Anyone with eyes can see it."
Within minutes, Kathleen toweled her dry and moved to the wardrobe, pulling out a gown of deep blue velvet. "This one. It's yer best and the color suits ye."
Maighread stepped into the gown and Kathleen laced it quickly, her fingers practiced and sure. The fabric settled around her, soft and rich. It wasn't elaborate, but it was beautiful.
"Yer hair," Kathleen said, already unpinning what remained of the braid. "We'll leave it loose. Tavish likes it that way."
"How dae ye ken that?"
"Because of the way he looks at ye whenever it's down. Like he's memorizing every strand." Kathleen brushed vigorously, working out tangles. "There. Simple but lovely."
Maighread caught sight of herself in the small mirror. Clean, dressed, hair falling in waves over her shoulders. She looked like a bride. A hastily prepared one, but a bride nonetheless.
"Perfect," Kathleen said softly. "He's going tae lose his mind when he sees ye."
"I hope so."
A knock sounded at the door. One of Tavish's men stood outside. "Me lady, the laird says everything is ready. "
Maighread's heart leaped. "Tell him I'm coming."
The man bowed and left. Maighread turned to Kathleen, suddenly nervous. "Is this mad? Marrying in such haste with war approaching?"
"Aye. Completely mad." Kathleen squeezed her hands. "But it's also the bravest, most romantic thing I've ever witnessed. Now go. Dinnae keep yer man waiting."
They walked together toward Maighread’s father’s chamber, who had been alerted of all the latest news.
She had expressed wanting her father to witness the ceremony, and at such short notice, his rooms were the place it would be celebrated.
When Maighread pushed open the door, she found Tavish waiting near the window with Greg, the priest. Her father sat propped up against the pillows in his bed, his face beaming with pride.
He nodded at her when she looked over to him.
Tavish had cleaned up. Changed into fresh clothes, a dark tunic that made his eyes look even brighter. His hair was still damp from washing. When he saw her, his expression transformed into something that stole her breath.
"Sweet saints," he murmured. "Ye're beautiful."
"Ye're nae so terrible yersel'."
Greg grinned. "Shall we get this done before Sinclair shows up tae interrupt?"
The priest stepped forward, old and solemn. "Are we ready tae begin?"
Tavish held out his hand. Maighread crossed to him and placed her fingers in his. His grip was warm and steady.
"Aye," Tavish said. "We're ready."
The ceremony was brief. No elaborate rituals, no lengthy readings. Just the essential vows spoken clearly in the quiet chapel. The priest asked the questions. They gave their answers.
"Dae ye, Tavish MacBain, take this woman as yer lawful wife?"
"I dae."
"Dae ye, Maighread MacEwan, take this man as yer lawful husband?"
"I dae."
"Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce ye husband and wife. What has been joined here cannae be undone by mortal hands."
Tavish pulled her close and kissed her. Not gently, not carefully, but with fierce possession that made her knees weak. When he released her, his eyes were blazing.
"Mine," he said quietly.
"Yers," she agreed. "Always."
Greg clapped Tavish on the shoulder. "Congratulations, brother. Ye've done well fer yersel'."
"I ken it."
Kathleen hugged Maighread tightly. "Be happy. Both of ye."
"We will be."
The priest smiled. "May yer union be blessed with many years and strong children."
Maighread then went over to hug her faither, who had been watching with tears in his eyes. He hugged back with frailty but conviction in his voice. “God bless ye both and may ye bring happiness and prosperity tae this clan. I couldnae be prouder.”
Then Tavish stepped over and the two men clasped forearms in the warrior’s embrace.
They signed the registry quickly, making it official. Maighread's hand trembled slightly as she wrote her new name: Maighread MacBain. It looked strange. Right, but strange.
When they finished, Tavish took her hand again. "Shall we?"
"Where are we going?"
"Our chamber. Unless ye'd prefer tae stay here and chat?"
Heat flooded her cheeks. "Our chamber sounds perfect."
They left the chapel together, Greg and Kathleen trailing behind with knowing smiles. The castle was still busy with activity as they made their way through corridors, but nobody stopped them. Word must have spread already.
When they reached the chamber, Tavish pulled her inside and shut the door firmly. The lock clicked into place. Suddenly they were alone, truly alone, as husband and wife.
Maighread's pulse raced. Tavish stood watching her, his expression intense.
"Come here," he said softly.
She crossed to him. He cupped her face in his hands, studying her like she was something precious.
"Me wife," he murmured. "I cannae quite believe it."
"Believe it. Ye're stuck with me now."
"Best thing that's ever happened tae me."
He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring. His hands moved to the laces of her gown, working them loose with practiced ease. He pushed it off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. She stood before him in just her shift, pulse hammering.
"Beautiful," he breathed. "So damn beautiful."
Maighread reached for his tunic, pulling it over his head. His chest was scarred and muscle. She traced one scar with her fingertip.
"Ye're nae so bad yersel'."
He laughed, the sound rough. Then he lifted her and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently. He followed her down, covering her body with his, and for a moment just looked at her.
"I love ye," he said.
"I love ye too."
What followed was slow and sweet and devastating. Every touch deliberate, every kiss claiming. Maighread had never felt so completely possessed, so utterly cherished. When he finally joined their bodies, she gasped at the sensation, the fullness, the rightness of it.
They moved together, finding rhythm, building toward something glorious. His name fell from her lips like a prayer. Her nails dug into his shoulders. The pleasure climbed higher and higher until it broke over them both in waves that left them shaking.
Afterward, they lay tangled together, breathing hard, hearts pounding in sync. Tavish rolled to the side, taking her with him, keeping her close. His hand stroked lazy patterns on her back.
"That was…" Maighread couldn't find words.
"Aye," he agreed. "It was."
"We're married."
"We are."
"And tomorrow we might be fighting fer our lives."
"Aye. But today, we're just this. Ye and me, taegether. Naething else matters."
She pressed her face against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "I'm glad we didnae wait."
"So am I."
They stayed like that until exhaustion finally claimed them both, falling asleep wrapped around each other, husband and wife at last.
When Maighread woke, pale morning light filtered through the windows. She was still tucked against Tavish's side, his arm heavy across her waist. She shifted slightly and his eyes opened immediately.
"Morning," he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
"Morning."
They lay quietly for a moment, just looking at each other. His thumb traced circles on her hip, gentle and absent.
"It's peaceful," Maighread said softly. "Strange, considering what's coming."
"The calm before the storm."
"Aye." She touched his face, memorizing the lines around his eyes. "What happens now?"
"Now I need tae ride out and inspect the castle defenses. Make sure everything is secure before Sinclair arrives. Ye check that things here are taken care of.”
"Aye—" He kissed her forehead.
He left, closing the door quietly behind him. Maighread lay back against the pillows, alone in their marriage bed, and listened to his footsteps fade down the corridor.