Highland Fire (Guardians of the Stone)

by Crosby, Tanya Anne

  Aidan had yet to even look at her, which was just as well, for if he did so now, he would find her quaking in her slippers. For all the stature she might have enjoyed during the march uphill, her mettle was completely gone now, and she felt like a frightened babe set before a sea of faceless strangers. At the moment, she did not even dare seek Glenna’s gaze for support, for this was all a lie, and her mother had always told her she could not dissemble to save her life. It was the very reason she could never win her father’s favor, for she could not pretend when he made it so clear she was of little value to him. Even with Rogan, her eyes and mouth had always betrayed her.

  “You will join hands,” Una demanded.

  Finally Aidan looked at her, and Lìli’s heart skipped a beat. He met her gaze directly, and more gently than she might have expected, and he drew her hand into his and held it so their wrists were joined and their pulses met.

  Una carried in her hand a number of ribbons similar to the ones his womenfolk had pinned upon her dress, and she looped one now over their joined wrists, binding the two of them together. “Lìleas and Aidan, do ye come voluntarily to make this union?”

  “I do,” Aidan said, his voice booming like thunder across the hillside.

  Lìli could not find her voice to speak.

  He lifted a brow, challenging her. “Do ye?”

  Lìli nodded.

  Una berated her. “Ach, child, speak the words, so all who see may also hear!”

  Wincing, for Lìli half expected to feel Una’s staff on her shins, she said, “I-I do.”

  “Will you honor and respect one another?” the old woman persisted.

  “I will,” they said in unison.

  David’s priest cleared his throat and whispered angrily. “’Tis utter blasphemy! It is a woman’s duty to honor her husband! This is not the way of Holy Church!”

  Without even looking at him, Una’s staff came up and popped him squarely on the chin this time. She then wrapped another ribbon around their wrists and continued as though nothing at all had transpired. “Will you forever aid each other in times of pain and sorrow?”

  The priest groaned beside her.

  Lìli tried to concentrate on Una’s words. “I will,” they said again in unison once more, and once again, the old woman looped a ribbon about their wrists.

  Lìli peered up at her betrothed, wondering of Aidan’s thoughts. His gaze revealed naught.

  “Will you be true to one another that you may grow strong together?”

  “I will,” Aidan said at once.

  Again, Lìli faltered. She eyed the priest, who was still nursing his newest wound, the words catching in her throat. The man’s dark eyes were dilated with fear, for he understood better than many that she was bound to betray not only Aidan, but his people as well. Admitting it now would only see them all dead. Realizing that she would be damned to hell for saying the words, she hitched her chin, and said, “I will.”

  Aidan’s eyes glittered. His lips curved ever so slightly. He watched her face—her eyes—not the ribbon as it was looped over their hands for a third time.

  “As your hands become withered, will you reach out only for one another?”

  Lìli thought about all the mistresses her father had taken. Even Stuart had been said to have a few, and she wondered if any man could be true. But Aidan did not hesitate to answer.

  “We will,” they said together, and for a fourth time, the ribbon was looped about their wrists.

  “Is it your intention to bring peace and harmony to this clan?”

  Lìli had the sense the question was directed solely at her, and Aidan did not answer this time. Swallowing, she lifted her gaze to him, and nodded as she said, “It is.”

  He remained silent, simply assessing her with those stark green eyes, and the old woman looped the ribbon a fifth time. Lìli could feel it now like a noose constricting her throat, cutting off her breath.

  The last of the sunlight winked off the blade of Aidan’s claymore.

  “When you falter—and you will—will you then have the courage—and loyalty—to remember these promises you have made to one another?”

  “I will,” Lìli said and swallowed, hard.

  “Aye,” Aidan agreed.

  The breath of the world seemed to pause in that instant as twilight succumbed to shadows. Una suddenly spun about, her staff raised to acknowledge the priest, the milky jewel of her staff glowing softly, as though it had swallowed the sunlight and held it trapped within. “Is there aught you would say now?” she asked the man.

  The priest shook his head adamantly, his eyes fixed upon the staff she wielded in her hand, and Una dismissed him quickly, turning and declaring in a voice loud enough for all to hear, “Lìleas and Aidan, now as your hands are bound, so too are you bound to one another. Aidan, will you bestow the kiss of peace upon your betrothed?”

  Aidan’s gaze slid to Una. He found the old woman’s good eye twinkling mischievously. At once, he peered out at the crowd of faces and found their expressions questioning.

  The look upon Lìli’s face was no less expectant. Her small hands quaked within his own. His heartbeat quickened at the thought of kissing her... and his palms grew sticky with anticipation. Her violet eyes darkened, her pupils dilating, and it seemed as though she would flee, like a terrified doe. Lest she do so, he pulled her toward him, peering once more out at the shadowed faces of his kinsmen. Then he tarried no more. He drew Lìli into his arms and placed his lips upon hers only to find them trembling far worse than her hands. He thought to spare her, but his tongue did not obey. Eager for the taste of his new bride, he pressed his tongue between her quivering lips, but they were sealed like a virgin’s, barring him entrance. But since she was no virgin, he assumed she did not welcome the kiss, and he drew back to study her face. There was only confusion there, not revulsion, so he offered her a bit of a smile and turned to raise their arms for his people to witness their hands bound together.

  A cheer rang throughout. The exuberant sound startled even Aidan, but he was moved by it nonetheless.

  “Behold my bride!” he said, his voice thick with emotion, and then he added, surprising himself with the veracity of the demand, “Respect her as ye do me!” His gaze immediately fell upon Stuart’s brother, for that particular message was primarily for him. No matter their feelings about Lìli, his kinsmen would never disrespect her, he knew. But if that man ever laid another hand upon his bride again, no matter the reason, he would skewer him through. And once the celebrations were done, he intended to see the Scots bastards escorted out of his vale.

  Today they were welcome to make merry.

  Tomorrow their welcome would be worn.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Uisge flowed aplenty. Herds of boys, gnawing on legs of lamb, chased after giggling girls, who wagged their tails, despite that they hardly understood what it meant to do so. Lìli was mindful she did not do the same, for she knew very well that her flirtations would be answered for sooner rather than later.

  The bonfire burned bright, sending tendrils of smoke high into the night sky, along with glints of glowing ash. The mood, unlike the night before, was festive, though as soon as Una appeared a hush fell over the gathering. She brought Lìli and Aidan both wooden tankards filled with uisge, and then holding her own cup high, she gave them each a toast in a voice as ancient and rugged as the Highland hills.

  Be the Maiden, Mother and Crone,

  Be the Horned God, the Wild Spirit of the Forest!

  And then she tilted her cup back, quaffing the contents without taking a single breath. Aidan lifted his glass in much the same manner, but he waited for Lìli to bring her cup to her lips.

  The scent of the uisge burned her nostrils, but she tipped the glass back for the good of Scotland and to the health of her son. She came up choking and hacking, for she had never in her life tasted a drink so stout. They did not brew such a dreadful potation at Keppenach. It felt like liquid fire. Even before she ceased c
oughing, the warmth was already seeping into her breast.

  An answering cheer resounded throughout the crowd, and Aidan gave a grunt of satisfaction and downed his own.

  Somehow, thereafter, Lìli’s cup seemed to mysteriously refill, with Una reassuring her that she must “drink up,” because she would “need it.” Lìli thought mayhap she had forgotten that Lìli was not a first time bride, and considered reassuring her, but after awhile, Una returned with a tray that held what appeared to be two pulpy houseleeks, both covered in a brownish powder, and she wondered by chance if that was what the old woman had been referring to when she’d urged her to drink.

  Aidan groaned at the sight of the plate, and his sister Sorcha clapped her hands with glee. So did a few others who spied the fare. Lìli had the feeling that everyone but her knew precisely what was on the plate and it looked foul indeed! Was this a joke? Did they intend to poison her now and send her body back to David as a message of import?

  “Joy of the ground!” Una explained at Lìli’s look of confusion. The old woman’s eyes twinkled knowingly. “An' ye must take one. Eat it all and ye’ll ne’er ha'e need of a hearth to keep ye warm at night!” She cackled at her own jest and slapped her thigh, holding the tray up with one hand for Lìli to have first choice.

  Understanding the ribald jest, Lìli glanced up at Aidan. The look in his green eyes challenged her, and she reached out to seize the smaller of the two before he could chance to take it, hoping to save herself from choking on the larger one. Ach, but thank God for the uisge! she thought now, and glanced down into her cup to be certain she had enough to chase the rotten houseleek.

  “’Tis a lusty bride ye wed!” someone jested from the crowd as Una pushed the tray toward Aidan. The crowd answered with a bawdy laugh and Lìli’s cheeks flamed as Aidan accepted the remaining delicacy with a smirk, eyeing her over the treat. But then he faced her as though waiting to see what she would do with hers.

  Lìli held up the foul-looking houseleek between them, taking some small comfort in the fact that if they had wished to poison her, they probably wouldn’t have gone through so much trouble to dress her before the ceremony. And yet, upon closer inspection, she was horrified to spy something moving.

  “To wedded bliss,” Aidan challenged, and the slow grin that spread across his face transformed his features before her eyes, giving him a rather boyish appearance.

  The sight of his smile, meant only for her, fairly stole Lìli’s breath away. Sucking in a breath, she held the houseleek up, and thought for certain she felt something wriggle against her thumb. She tried not to grimace. “And this will provide wedded bliss?”

  His grin widened, revealing the white glint of his teeth. “If ye dare?”

  Betrayed by her woman’s heart and her body, a tiny thrill tickled down her spine. God forgive her, but she could not claim she did not anticipate his touch. A more handsome man she had never known. What would it be like to lay with him? Without thinking, she peered down below his belt and shivered, and she looked up to find Aidan staring at her, waiting... smiling...

  She peered at the foul houseleek, mustering her nerve. By God, if it was proof he needed of her willingness to wed him, there could be no greater proof than this. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed the houseleek whole, and then drained her cup behind it, not daring to linger over the taste or texture. Ach, but it was pickled, and something did indeed squirm upon her tongue!

  Aidan swallowed his leek whole, and another cheer rang through the gathering.

  Once they were done, Una smiled and hobbled away with her staff and her empty tray, nodding her head in approval.

  Lìli felt heady from the drink, her body warmed despite the chill of night in the air. But from that moment on, she could no longer put the bedding out of her mind. Thoughts of lying in Aidan’s bed filled her with a titillating warmth that transcended the effects of the uisge, for while the uisge warmed her breast, the thought of lying beneath his warrior’s body, warmed her in far deeper places. Now despite that she told herself it was part of the role she must play, she could not bring herself to think beyond that moment when he would make her his own.

  To her surprise, instead of joining his men to share bawdy jests, Aidan remained by her side, introducing her to kinsmen she had not yet met. She spoke to them politely and with a sense of confidence she scarcely felt.

  Glenna’s son came wrapped in a warm plaid, on the shoulders of one called Lachlann, with Glenna accompanying the brawny warrior.

  “Lachlann says the faeries left auld Morag’s cheese only for me,” the lad bragged. “To make me strong again, and look!” He fortified his muscles, looking fierce, although his face was still wan, and there was a fine sheen of sweat upon his upper lip despite the cool night air.

  Lìli was certain Glenna had read her thoughts. “We brought him only to pay his respects to his new lady,” she offered with a smile, and a curtsy, though it was not a gesture of obeisance—more a playful show between friends, which it seemed they were fast becoming.

  Lìli could not allow herself to feel guilty. To save her own son, she had no choice.

  She smiled at the boy, and reached up to feel his forehead, an automatic gesture. It was cool to the touch. “Ye are braw, for certain,” she told him, grinning back at him, “and one more night of rest will see ye e’en more so.”

  The boy nodded, smiling. “That’s what me minny said, too, but Lachlann said he dinna mind the load e’en though I am big for eight!”

  Glenna touched the warrior gently upon the arm, a tender gesture of thanks, and the man did not miss it. He peered down at the child’s mother, his look gentle, despite his size, and then looked toward Lìli and winked and said, “’Tis glad I am no’ to have the chief competing o'er the lasses anymore.”

  Acutely aware of the way her new husband observed her every move, listened to her every word, Lìli laughed nervously.

  Aidan suddenly bent to whisper into her ear as Glenna, Lachlann and her son moved on. “My kinsmen crave ye to be true,” he said. “See that ye dinna play them false.”

  It was a swift reminder that no matter how real it all seemed, this was no true match and her husband did not trust her. “I wish only for peace,” Lìli insisted, and it was true, for she wished with all her heart that peace would be their conclusion.

  But it would not. She knew that only too well.

  The look in her eyes gave Aidan the impression she meant every word she spoke, and in that instant he wanted desperately to believe her.

  Despite that it was his wedding, he knew there was much he should be doing, aside from standing here ogling his bride, but he found himself entranced by the sight of her, the subtle movements of her brow... her mouth... the gentle turn of her lips. And when she smiled, he liked the way she turned her head ever so shyly—like a sweet child.

  But she was no child.

  With the advantage of his height, the view he had of her lovely breasts was unbearably delicious—particularly for a man who had not lain with a woman in far too long. The neckline of her gown was not nearly as revealing as the one she had arrived in, but it taunted him just the same. It seemed every move she made, every word she uttered, only served to undermine his resolve to resist her, and that truth settled poorly in his gut.

  Or mayhap it was simply Una’s pickled houseleek—nasty fare!

  By the gods of his ancestors, it was his duty to remain strong and vigilant... but at this moment, Aidan had no notion where Rogan was, nor the milksop priest, nor the men who had escorted them. For that matter, he hadn’t seen Lael all evening, although it was certain she was somewhere in the vicinity. He had eyes only for his bride. For all he knew, Cailin and Keane could be preparing to blow the kegs once more, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

  Lìli had come to him, not in her lavish Sassenach gown, but in the simple woolen dress his mother had worn when she’d wed his Da. Gone was her MacLaren cloak, and in its place she wore an arisaid woven solely of his colors�
�a gift from Glenna, no doubt, which only served to illustrate how much Glenna’s heart had turned toward the lass.

  Forsooth, his wife was a bloody sorceress, it was true, for she was bewitching him even as she stood beside him in utter silence. And she did indeed share Sorcha’s freckles, though Lili’s were barely visible, as though she’d outgrown them. The elusive scent of roses drifted to his nostrils, and he yearned to bury his nose in the lustrous strands of her hair to see if that’s where the scent originated. “I ken that David’s hand is well played,” he told her. “In truth, I dinna believe in sorcery, Lìli, but your beauty is no less a curse.”

  Lìli peered at her husband in surprise.

  The tone of his voice was not rude at all but his words seemed intended to be. And judging by the look in his eyes, she thought mayhap his own words had taken him a little by surprise, and that he had merely spoken his mind, for if aught, his tone and expression now seemed more plaintive than anything else.

  Could it be his backhand way of complimenting her perhaps?

  The thought that he might actually desire her sent a tiny frisson of both fear and excitement racing down her spine. Never mind that she had convinced herself she dreaded their coupling. The fluttering in her breast named her a liar. Aye, for considering his dismissal of her yesterday and his angry words this morning, she had thought him completely immune to whatever it was that other men seemed to find attractive about her. She had not even felt such a heady rush over Stuart’s flirtations.

  The sound of the reed lifted somewhere in the night, haunting and melodic. Her senses were dimmed and heightened both at once—the uisge, no doubt—or mayhap 'twas the pickled houseleek, for while it seemed that Lìli only played at magic, she sensed the old woman harbored ancient secrets in those unnaturally green eyes.

  Why she was driven to answer as she did, Lìli had no idea, but she dared to flirt with her husband. She arched a brow. “And here I thought ye were brave to wed a cursed lass... do ye tell me now, Husband, that ye dinna believe your own wives’ tales?”