Chapter 11
Oscar gripped the end of the nearest bench and moved it half a yard away from the aisle. Its legs dragged through the grass, leaving two pale tracks beneath a seat that the maids had positioned correctly the first time.
A simple cloth marked the spot where the vows would be spoken. Beside it, the priest surveyed the final preparations while witnesses gathered in small groups near the garden wall. Morrag and MacKane ribbons lay ready on a narrow table.
Oscar checked the table’s stability, then tightened his sword belt.
“The bench was straight before ye moved it,” Lennan remarked.
“It was too close to the aisle.”
“I doubt anyone else thought the same.”
Oscar looked at him. Lennan wisely turned his attention to the arriving guests, though a hint of amusement lingered at the corner of his mouth.
Oscar had always despised waiting idly. He could command men at the border or settle a dispute before noon, since both required decisions he understood. This morning demanded that he stand in his own garden and watch the castle entrance for a woman who had every right to stay inside.
He could still feel her lips against his own, could still feel the curve of her waist beneath his palm. The memories had followed him into her bedchamber the previous night, where the sight of her loose hair had tested what little restraint remained in him.
He pressed one hand against the edge of the narrow table until the wood bit into his skin. In less than an hour, he would finally be able to call Ceana his wife. The ceremony would place her in his household and require him to honor boundaries he had already crossed.
“Lady MacKane will stand here,” the priest said to a servant, indicating the space beside Oscar.
The title caught beneath Oscar’s ribs. His fingers went cold around the table, and for one beat, his lungs refused to expand. He pressed his thumb against the old scar across his palm until the physical pressure brought his attention back to the garden.
Ceana had agreed to the marriage, and the children had begun treating her presence as part of their lives.
MacKane would provide the strength Morrag needed.
The bargain required a lady for his clan and asked for no declaration of love.
The last assurance, however, no longer carried the comfort it should have.
Oscar turned toward the castle entrance again.
If his bride chose not to appear, the priest would speak no vows, and the ribbons would remain separate.
Her absence would answer him before the entire clan.
He could endure the embarrassment and the failure of his plans, but he could not yet determine what he would do with the place she had already made inside his home.
Tommy hurried into the garden with Paisley close behind him. His ceremonial coat sat crooked across one shoulder, though he had clearly submitted to having his hair combed. Paisley carried a folded cloth carefully against her chest.
“Ceana is almost ready,” Tommy announced. “She looks finer than any queen.”
Paisley gave him a patient look. “Ye have never seen a queen.”
“I ken what one would look like.”
“She is very beautiful, Faither,” Paisley said, quietly enough that the admission carried more weight than Tommy’s claim.
Oscar adjusted his cuffs. “I expected she would be.”
Tommy moved closer and lowered his voice, although everyone within several feet could still hear him. “Will she stay after the vows?”
“She will become Lady MacKane once she gives her consent, and the ceremony is complete.”
“So she cannae leave?”
The question made Paisley look at Oscar as well. Her fingers tightened around the cloth she carried.
“She will belong to this household,” Oscar said. “She has given her word to remain, and I have given mine.”
Some of the strain left Paisley’s face. “Will me ribbon truly be used?”
“Ceana chose it herself. It has a place with the clan ribbons.”
Paisley unfolded the cloth enough to reveal her silver embroidery. She touched one careful stitch before covering it again.
Tommy rocked forward on his toes. “Ness is tied near the stables. She has water, and I checked her tether meself.”
Keeping the goat away from a gathering required a sacrifice few adults would understand.
Oscar placed one hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Ye have done well.”
Tommy stood straighter beneath the praise. “I should check on her once more before Ceana comes down.”
“Once,” Oscar relented. “Then take a seat.”
The children left together, Paisley guarding her ribbon.
Oscar watched until they passed beneath the garden arch. Ceana had become an integral part of their lives so quickly that both could imagine a future where she stayed. He couldn’t let anything ruin that, especially him.
“The witnesses are ready,” Lennan announced.
The priest moved into position as the conversation near the wall died down. David had yet to appear, which meant Heather remained inside with Ceana.
Oscar glanced toward the entrance again. Every instinct urged him to cross the garden, climb the stairs, and learn what had caused the delay. He stayed beside the ribbons anyway, keeping as calm as he could.
What are ye doin’, Ceana? Where are ye?
Heather fastened the last row of hooks at the back of Ceana’s gown, then smoothed down the fabric across her shoulders. The dark green had been chosen from MacKane stores, while a small silver brooch from Morrag secured it at the shoulder.
Paisley’s embroidered ribbon rested beside the blue length Heather had brought from home.
Ceana checked the silver stitches again. The sound of movement outside the chamber made her stomach tighten. It was just servants passing on their way to the garden. The priest had arrived before breakfast, and Oscar would already be waiting.
Her fingers returned to the ribbon until Heather covered them with her own. “Ye will damage the embroidery if ye keep worryin’ it.”
“Paisley wouldnae forgive me, and her faither most definitely will be angry.”
“She might. But I doubt ye would forgive yerself.”
Heather moved behind her and began arranging her hair. Ceana watched their reflections in the small mirror, though the memory of a rough hand against her forehead distracted her from the pins.
“Did he visit ye after ye retired?” Heather asked.
“Oscar brought food and made certain I ate.”
Heather paused with a pin between her fingers. “Oscar?”
“The Laird.”
“Ye didnae call him that a moment ago.”
Ceana lowered her eyes to the ribbon. “He will be me husband by noon. I should be able to say his name.”
Her mother studied her reflection before setting the pin aside. The teasing Ceana expected never came. Instead, Heather turned her chair until they faced one another.
“Are ye certain ye wish to marry him?”
“I gave me word. The clans are gatherin’, and the priest has come.”
“None of that answers me question.”
Ceana drew in a slow breath. “I agreed to the marriage.”
“Daphne agreed to hers until she couldnae endure it.”
She stiffened. “Daphne fled before she was bound to Angus. She chose for herself.”
“Aye, though she had help.”
Heather crossed to the door and opened it far enough to check the passage. Once satisfied that no servant waited nearby, she closed it again.
“Daphne came to me after the household had gone to sleep,” she admitted. “I gave her money and me travelin’ cloak. The lower stables were left unlocked so she could take a horse without wakin’ the grooms.”
Ceana stared at her. “It was ye? Ye helped her escape?”
“I directed her toward the first safe road. After that, she chose her own path.”
“Does Faither ken?”
“He would have stopped us because he feared what Laird Gilmore might do. I feared what would happen to Daphne if we obeyed him.”
A startled laugh escaped Ceana before she could contain it. Her mother, who had spent years correcting posture and insisting on decorum, had quietly helped her sister steal a horse from her own stables and escape.
Heather kneeled in front of her. “I will do the same for ye.”
The faint amusement left Ceana’s face.
“A mare can be saddled in the lower stables within minutes,” Heather continued. “Ross will take ye through the kitchen gate while the household is occupied in the garden. I can claim that ye have taken ill and delay anyone who comes lookin’.”
“Ye would send both yer daughters runnin’ across Scotland?”
“I would rather have two livin’ and free daughters than two miserable, obedient ones,” she said without hesitation.
That stripped away Ceana’s last excuse—that she had no choice.
She looked toward the window. The lower stables lay beyond the wall, and the kitchen gate opened onto a narrow track that joined the road through the woods. With ordinary clothing beneath a cloak, she could leave MacKane land before Oscar understood what had happened.
Freedom was close enough to reach before the ceremony began.
Choosing it would end the uncertainty. She would never have to discover whether Oscar intended to spend their marriage watching her mouth while denying himself the right to touch it.
The separate chambers could remain an untested bargain, and she would avoid becoming the useful wife who knew every part of his household while knowing little about him.
However, Paisley’s ribbon still lay beneath her hand, and suddenly, all that had happened in the past few weeks stretched out before her, like fabric choices in a market.
Paisley had trusted her with the fear she scarcely admitted to her own father. Tommy had promised to restrain himself because he wanted her to stay. Leaving would teach both children that every woman eventually disappeared, even one who had looked them in the eyes and promised otherwise.
Oscar had protected Daphne without knowing where she hid. By this morning, MacKane riders were preparing to defend Morrag. He had deceived Ceana at the festival, then placed the final decision in her hands once the truth became known.