Chapter Seven
-ASTRID-
From the moment I’d entered Lachlann’s chamber earlier to join him for a drink, I had felt a great change upon me once more.
It whispered on the wind and rumbled in the distant thunder.
It crackled within the fire, then beat within my own heart, a constant, steady thud as we talked and awaited Declan’s arrival because he would come, as he did every night.
Tonight, though, he would come for more than he could understand. Not yet, but soon, and he would begin to see things more clearly.
Me more clearly.
I couldn’t say why I was convinced of it, only that I was, and my premonition proved true when Lachlann revealed Gustav’s diabolical plans.
If I were to be honest with myself, I had found Laird MacGreggor changed tonight in ways I could not put into words.
Different somehow in the way he spoke to me. How he looked at me.
While still warm and friendly, there was a subtle change in him.
Everything seemed the same, yet somehow it was not.
I sensed a darkness beneath the light in Gustav’s eyes now.
An underlying current of not genuine desire but oily lust deep within his friendly gaze.
One I suspected Declan saw just as clearly, where most could not.
So, when Lachlann revealed that Gustav only meant me harm if he married me and that he would somehow use me to destroy my fellow Norse, I wasn’t surprised. Nor was I all that shocked when he requested that Declan and I secretly marry tonight to protect me.
It was a lot to ask of Declan, all things considered, yet he asked me instead what I thought of marrying him, and I could only say what was in my heart.
What was part of my fate.
“I think ‘twould be wise,” I replied, my heart slamming at the idea of it.
Of knowing we would belong to each other, even if only in secret, for now.
Even if we barely got along. Then I forced myself to say what needed saying, for the sake of propriety, however much I longed for his touch.
“With an understanding, of course, that ‘tis not to be consummated straight away for obvious reasons.”
“’Tis a sound request.” Lachlann nodded. “As this is most unorthodox.” There was no missing the hope on his face when he looked at Declan. “And what of you, son? Are you willing to see through my request and honor Astrid’s wishes?”
Declan’s gaze lingered on his father and me for a brief stretch, his eyes troubled as he thought about it, yet like I could see darkness in Gustav now, I could just as easily see a flicker of elation in Declan.
A fire for me, burning deep within. Desire that would consume me someday, only breathing new, brighter life into me.
“Aye,” he finally said softly, his voice rough with emotion he tried to bury, but I still saw it. Felt it. “I will see through your wishes, Da, and marry Astrid tonight.”
“Och, ‘tis bloody good to hear.” Lachlann closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as if truly fearing this might not happen, nodding before he opened his eyes. “Verra good.” Despite moving more slowly than I would have liked, he headed toward the door. “I will let the clergyman know.”
“You already have someone standing by?” Declan exclaimed, as surprised as I was by Lachlann’s hope or perhaps even assumption that we would do this.
“Aye,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Wait here.”
After he shut the door behind him, a heavy silence fell between Declan and me, as if we didn't know what to say to each other, where we typically excelled at exchanging cutting, argumentative words. Yet now, our gazes lingered on the fire rather than each other, and we drank our whisky.
Was he as nervous as I suddenly felt?
Did he truly want this?
Or was he dreading it?
Eventually, however awkward to voice, I broke the silence and thanked him for doing this for me. It was a lot to ask of anyone, let alone all the risks attached to it.
“Aye,” he said roughly, clearly debating what he was going to say next before coming out with it.
“And you have my thanks for being there for my father when no one else could be.” He finally looked my way.
“He told me what you did for him. How you greatly eased the pain in his joints, and I couldnae be more pleased to hear it.” Troubled, he shook his head.
“I had no idea he was suffering like that.”
While pleased to hear Lachlann had finally shared his ailment with Declan, I couldn’t help but wonder at his timing.
If I didn’t know better, given what Lachlann had shared with me about the untimely demise of Declan’s mother, I would guess he told us things that might bring us closer together. Help us understand one another better.
“I was glad to help,” I said, touched by the softening in Declan’s gaze as he continued looking at me. The genuine gratefulness. “He’s a good man and didn’t deserve to be living like that.”
“Nay,” he agreed, about to say more when Lachlann returned with a short, balding man wearing typical Scottish attire rather than the robes of his calling, no doubt to remain discreet.
“’Twill be much faster than I would have liked, my friend,” Lachlann said to the clergyman. “I trust you can make that happen and keep this to yourself?”
“Of course.” The clergyman pulled a Bible and a sash of Mackay plaid out of his satchel and smiled warmly at us. “Whereabouts would you like to do this?”
When Declan and I merely looked at each other, unsure how to answer because this was so spontaneous, Lachlann spoke for us.
“How about right here?” He gestured at the carpeted area in front of the fire. “’Tis a lovely enough spot, I suppose.”
Oksana sat beside the spot, watching me in that way she could, almost as if saying that was where it should happen.
While it was nice enough with an elaborately designed mantle, I had always imagined marrying outside, like my ancestors of old.
Being surrounded by the elements and my deities.
Yet the Norns clearly had other plans, and if any element was mine and my sisters', it was fire, so it was suitable enough.
“’Tis fine,” I said, as did Declan.
So, we faced each other before the fire in what was, outside of the first time our eyes met, one of the most intense moments of my life.
Even though our wrists were bound together with the Mackay’s blue and green plaid, and I recited the words, I barely heard what either of us said.
Instead, I was only aware of the feeling of his warm wrist against mine.
In the way I lost myself in his emerald gaze, just as much as I suspected he did mine.
The sensation was powerful and intense yet sensual and warm.
As if sealing my fate, the moment we recited our final words binding us as husband and wife, the fire flared on the hearth so robustly, sparks hissing and rising, that I knew the gods of old sanctified this union and perhaps even my new God.
“’Tis done,” the clergyman said, unwrapping our wrists. “We just need to sign the parchment.”
Mine and Declan’s eyes lingered on each other for another second before his gaze dropped to my lips, and I knew sealing our marriage with a kiss tempted him. I also knew he fought the urge for fear of wanting far more.
“Verra good,” Lachlann said, interrupting the moment and a good thing, as I would probably want more too if Declan kissed me, and tonight was not the time for that with the king under this very roof. It had been daring enough to marry one another.
“Congratulations, son.” Lachlann clasped Declan’s shoulder and grinned broadly, acting as though this was not a secret, clandestine moment. “I dinnae doubt you two will share a strong, loving bond that will someday bear many strong sons and daughters.”
Before Declan could respond, Lachlann embraced me warmly. “Welcome to the family, Lady Astrid Mackay.” He held me at arm's length and looked at me affectionately. “My new daughter in every sense of the word now.”
I met his smile and could not help but think of my own father.
How would he be if he were standing here now?
In my younger years, no doubt as kind and affectionate as Lachlann, but not these days.
If anything, I imagined he would scowl at me and order me to get busy making strong sons to carry on the Helvig lineage, establishing roots on Scottish ground in every sense of the word.
Again, surprising us with how prepared he was, Lachlann provided us with a document that would legally bind us if someone ever questioned our marriage.
We signed, as did the clergyman and Lachlann, as our witnesses.
After that, he sent the clergyman on his way and insisted we share one more dram to celebrate.
While by no means a typical wedding or robust celebration, it felt perfect in a way I never would have imagined. It was good to see Lachlann happy, laughing even, making me smile as well. Even Declan mustered up a smile or two for his father, and it only made him that much more handsome.
Eventually, we went our separate ways, Declan and I leaving at different times, yet I found myself wishing we didn’t need to.
That he could join me in my chamber, not to lie together but perhaps sit and talk more, just the two of us, without squabbling.
Take the time to get to know one another better.
Unfortunately, that would not be tonight, but hopefully along the way as we traveled the country with the king.
Lachlann had, after all, ensured Declan would need to remain close to me as my guard.
I had urged Lachlann to keep Oksana with him this last night, and he’d agreed, having grown every bit as fond of her as I was. I would see her in the morning during the next leg of our journey.
After tending the fire in my chamber and changing into my night rail, I drifted to the window. Snow fell softly, lit by the flickering torchlight on the battlement below, and thunder rumbled in the distance.