Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Isla was dressed in a gown that had belonged to Iain’s mother. It was a white dress with yellow stitching, matching the colors of the clan’s tartan. The dress had been adjusted to fit her frame, and not a stitch was out of place.
She was escorted from her chamber by a number of maids who might as well have been guards, as she knew they had been sent by her father to make sure she appeared at the wedding.
Isla glanced down long hallways and her thoughts turned to the dungeon, picturing Gavin far below the Keep.
Pain captured her heart and tension ran through her body.
There was nothing she could do to help him now, other than marry Iain and pray that his kind nature had not been tainted by what he had seen.
And that he would grant her one request, perhaps as a wedding gift.
Another man’s freedom.
It was a terrible situation and she wasn’t sure that Iain would ever trust her again. If that was the case then it was going to be a long and unhappy marriage.
She arrived at the Great Hall and her father was waiting outside the door, a gleam in his eyes that suggested he was enjoying this whole thing, as though everyone was being tormented for his own enjoyment.
“Isla, my lass, ye look as beautiful as yer mother did on our wedding day. Ye are a vision. I ken that Iain will be proud tae call yer his wife,” he said audibly.
Then he clasped her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. Isla stiffened with tension as revulsion crawled across her body.
“As long as ye remember tae behave yerself,” he added in a whisper that only she could hear.
“Ye dinnae hae tae pretend, Da.”
“I am nae pretending. I am proud of ye. A father must always be happy on his daughter’s wedding day.”
“We both ken ye are only happy because the Highlands are now within yer grasp.”
“Ye dae me a disservice. I dae care about ye.”
“I dinnae believe ye,” she said. He wore a sour look. “Is Gavin still alive?”
“For the time being,” Laird Sinclair said, a sense of annoyance creeping into his voice.
It was a small mercy that Iain hadn’t done as her father had asked and slain Gavin, Isla thought.
“Although that can change, and I’m sure it will soon enough. We cannae hae dangerous men like that threatening the peace.”
Before Isla could say anything further, the doors to the Great Hall opened.
Clansmen and villagers filled the hall. Great banners were stretched from one side of the hall to the other, while guards stood at either side, dressed in their finest uniforms. Flowers had been placed at each side of the aisle.
Laird Sinclair linked arms with Isla and patted her hand, playing the part of a proud father.
Just like him, Isla played the part of a fair bride.
She forced a smile to her face and passed her gaze across the crowd of people who would be attending her wedding.
None of them knew what had occurred the previous night, just as none of them knew that she had promised her heart to a man other than the one who was to be her husband.
Was it possible to love two men?
She might not have had a choice, and the two loves were going to be different.
Iain was sensible, kind, but she did not feel the same kind of inexorable passion that she did with Gavin.
Her mind was never clouded by him, and she never felt reckless.
But he was steady, reliable, and he might well be the key to saving the Highlands.
The look on his face was inscrutable. She had no idea what he felt about her now, after last night. Did he suspect that there was something more between her and Gavin? Did he believe her to be some kind of malicious, scheming vixen?
A smile broke upon his face as Laird Sinclair took Iain’s hand, congratulating him and telling him how proud he was, as though Iain was his son. Laird Sinclair then placed Isla’s hand in Iain’s. It was the same hand that had held the sword the previous night, and it was still just as steady.
Isla gazed into his eyes and wished that they had been able to talk about things before this.
An elder clansman, a spiritual leader, was officiating the ceremony. He held a thick piece of Anderson tartan in his hands and held it aloft.
“When these two are joined they shall never be parted, nae in the eyes of our world or the heavens. May their union be blessed with many bairns and with years of peace. Iain, dae ye take this woman tae walk with ye in life through clear skies and storms?”
“I dae,” he said.
He smiled at her, but with less warmth than usual, or at least that’s what she thought. She gazed into his eyes and wondered what he was thinking. Did he now harbor doubts just as she did?
It wasn’t a pleasant thing to look into someone’s eyes and realize that they had doubts about the way they felt, and she realized that was exactly how she had been with him. Perhaps this was a mistake and had been from the beginning.
No, she couldn’t think like that. It was too late anyway. It seems everything in her life came too late.
There were many different kinds of love in the world.
Her love for Gavin was passionate and tempting, the kind that made her lose reason.
It wasn’t the kind that was meant to last, though.
It wasn’t the kind of love that an intelligent, rational woman should feel because it would lead her to making rash decisions.
She’d been given a glimpse of what it would have been like when he’d come for her. It would have been glorious and exciting, but a candle that burned brightly often melted quickly.
It was far more reasonable to want a gentle kind of love, the kind that babbled along like a stream, the kind that was reliable and trustworthy.
The kind that wouldn’t be shadowed by death.
“Isla, dae ye take Iain tae be the man tae shelter and support ye?”
“I dae,” she replied.
She remembered to make her words loud enough for all the clan to hear.
There was a great cheer. She looked into Iain’s eyes but wasn’t sure what she could see in them.
They needed to have a conversation. Their marriage was not going to be off to a simple start, but she would make it work.
She had her whole life to earn his forgiveness, after all.
Isla repeated the same things that had become a mantra to her since she had learned of her father’s plan to get her to marry Iain. But with Gavin having been so close to her she could not quite shake the feeling that this was wrong.
Currently, it was as though she had a foot in both worlds, but she could not exist in both. Iain was her husband. She had made her choice… hadn’t she?
Isla glanced towards her father who looked visibly relaxed, perhaps having feared that she might have made things difficult for him and refused the vows.
“Then let us seal this marriage the way our ancestors taught us. A kiss tae promise yer devotion and love, a single shared breath that signals becoming one.”
A knot of tension twisted in Isla’s gut. A lump appeared in her throat.
Why did she feel guilty about kissing Iain? He was her husband and her loyalty had to lie with him. This could not be wrong, for it was going to be normal. It was going to be her life.
She closed her eyes. All she could think about was the raw passion when Gavin seized her, kissing her as though he were going to die if he didn’t.
She remembered the feeling of his shirt damp with sweat, his hard muscles beneath, the frantic breaths that washed over her like the hot air after a violent storm.
Then lips were upon her. Not Gavin’s lips. Softer. Hesitant. Polite.
They brushed the very corner of her mouth. A kiss that was not a kiss. Was it a question? A promise? She wasn’t sure.
Either way, it wasn’t as she expected.
Iain stepped back. There was a smile on his face, but she wondered if it was more for the crowd’s benefit than hers. He clasped her hand tightly and held her arm aloft as everyone broke out in rapturous applause.
Isla played the part well, forcing a smile to her face, but anyone who looked at her closely would have seen that it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Despite being married and never leaving each other’s side, Isla and Iain had not had a chance to speak to each other in private even hours after their wedding ceremony was over.
The tension bubbled in the air and made it impossible for Isla to settle.
She had only eaten a small portion of the ten courses brought out to her and refused to drink too much wine, not wanting her mind to be addled.
The people around her shifted, changing seats so that everyone got their chance to offer their congratulations.
Isla smiled politely, even though she wanted to be anywhere else.
Most of these people were understanding and only stayed for a short while, but there were a few who indulged themselves and told Isla their life’s story and then asked for personal requests.
Iain stepped in and said that everything would be considered.
He hadn’t shown any sign that he disliked her, but Isla felt that something was off.
Elsewhere, she noticed that her father was moving among the crowd, shaking hands and smiling with anyone who crossed his path.
He was staying out of sight, yet making sure that everyone knew he had been present.
He would no doubt whisper promises and offer deals, each of which strengthened his influence in the clan.
He was attempting to usurp Iain in plain sight, and nobody was willing to do anything to stop him.
Then there was Gavin.
Often her gaze turned to the floor, as though she could peer through it and see through the heavy stone that separated her from Gavin. She was feasting on roasted pheasants and stuffed peppers and fruit pies while he was in a dank dungeon, waiting for her father to take his life.