She nodded then glanced down at Crispen. “Will you come with us, Crispen? After all, you’re very much a part of this ceremony.”
Crispen puffed out his chest until Ewan thought he might burst. Then he slipped his hand into Mairin’s. Ewan reached for the other, and she handed her flowers off to Maddie before sliding her fingers through his.
It felt right. Here was his family. His son and the woman who would be mother to him. He tugged her toward the waiting priest, as his two brothers came forward to flank Ewan and Mairin.
There in the protective hold of his family, he and Mairin exchanged their vows. She never wavered. Never gave any hint that she was anything but willing. She stared the priest in the eyes and then turned to look into Ewan’s, as she recited her promise to honor and obey.
When the priest declared them married, Ewan leaned in to seal their troth with a kiss. She hesitated a mere moment and then whispered, “You will not use your tongue!”
His laughter rang out over the hall. His clan looked eagerly for the source of his laughter, but he had eyes only for his new bride.
He found her lips, so sweet and warm, and took his time as he ravaged her mouth. And, oh aye, he used his tongue.
When he broke away, she glared ferociously up at him. He grinned and reached for her hand, pulling her against him as they turned to face his clan. Then he held her hand high in the air and presented her as the new mistress of the keep.
The roar of his clan echoed so loudly in the hall that Mairin winced. But she stood proudly beside Ewan, a delighted smile curving her lips.
One by one, his men came to kneel and offer their pledge to their new mistress. At first, Mairin looked baffled by the show of loyalty. She twitched as if she would have liked to disappear through the flooring.
Ewan smiled as he watched her come to terms with her new position. She’d led a sequestered life. Now, for the first time, she was stepping into her destiny.
When the last soldier bowed before Mairin, Ewan took her elbow to guide her toward the table where Gertie and the kitchen maids were busy setting out the trenchers for the wedding feast. In the corner, a small group of talented musicians gathered to play a set of lively tunes. After the feast there would be dancing and merriment until the bedding ceremony at sundown.
Ewan shared his place at the head of the table with Mairin. He wanted her seated beside him in a position of honor.
He called for a chair to be placed adjacent to his, and when the trenchers were laid and the first course served, he offered her the choicest bites from his serving.
Seemingly delighted by his regard, she allowed him to offer her tender bites of meat from his dagger. She smiled up at him so dazzlingly that for a moment he forgot to breathe. Shaken by the effect she had on him, he nearly knocked over the mug containing ale.
Alaric and Caelen sat on either side of Ewan and Mairin. After the last of the people sitting at the main table had been served, Alaric rose from his seat and asked for silence. Then he held up his goblet and glanced down at Ewan and Mairin.
“To the laird and his lady!” he called. “May their marriage be blessed with health and many sons.”
“Or daughters,” Mairin muttered so low that Ewan almost didn’t catch it.
His mouth twitched as he listened to the rest of his clan roar agreement. He raised his goblet and inclined his head in Alaric’s direction.
“And may our daughters all be as beautiful as their mother.”
Mairin gasped softly and turned shining eyes on Ewan. Her smile lit up the entire room. To his utter shock, she suddenly bolted up, grabbed his face between her hands, and gave him a lusty kiss that curled his toes.
The room erupted in a chorus of cheers. Even Caelen looked amused. When Mairin pulled away, Ewan was hard-pressed to remember his own name.
She scooted closer to him, pressing her soft curves to his side. His body reacted immediately. He was instantly hard, and his current position prevented him from shifting to alleviate the growing discomfort. If he adjusted, he would unseat Mairin, and he didn’t want her to move away from him.
So he sat and grew more uncomfortable bupted inment.
Midway through the feast, the flute player began a particularly merry tune. It was lively and fast and dozens of feet began a rhythmic tapping on the floor. Mairin clapped her hands together and let out a sound of pure delight.
“Do you dance, lass?” Ewan asked.
She gave a wistful shake. “Nay, there was never dancing in the abbey. I’m probably clumsy at it.”
“I’m not exceedingly graceful myself,” Ewan said. “We’ll muddle through it together.”
She gifted him with another smile and impulsively squeezed his hand. He made a sudden vow that no matter how foolish he looked, he would dance with her as long as she wished it.
“Laird, Laird!”
One of his watchmen ran into the hall, sword drawn. He searched Ewan out and immediately set out for the end of the table. Ewan rose, his hand automatically going to Mairin’s shoulder in a protective gesture.
The soldier was out of breath when he came to a halting stop a mere foot from where Ewan stood. Alaric and Caelen shot up from their seats and waited for the news.
“An army approaches, Laird. I received word but a moment ago. They carry Duncan Cameron’s banner. They come from the south and were two hours from our border at last report.”
Chapter 13
Ewan cursed long and hard. Alaric’s and Caelen’s expressions grew stormy, but something else glimmered in their eyes. Anticipation.
Ewan found Mairin’s hand again and gripped it so tight that she winced from the pain of it.
“Gather the troops. Assemble in the courtyard. Wait for me,” Ewan commanded.