“That’s not what I meant.” She emerged from under the covers, shoved her tangled white-blond tresses from her face and met his gaze. “I actually don’t have an issue with us getting hitch—I mean, handfasted. It’s not like it’s permanent.”
“You truly dinnae mind?” When he’d first arrived at Dunvegan, MacLeod had requested her presence. Anne hadn’t shown herself, and eager to leave, he’d set sail.
“Your mother’s so nice. I can handle whatever time I’ll have here.” She eased her feet to the floor and stood. “I fear we’ve gotten off to a bad start, but I’m here now, and I’m going to make the best of it. So, where do we stand?”
Her words made little sense. Where they stood was perfectly clear. Arms crossed, he strode to her. “Any lies between us are unacceptable. There has never been a sign MacLeod brought you. How did you arrive without an escort, my lady?”
“You think I traveled alone? Without guardsmen?”
“Nay, but there’s no other answer than that.”
She skimmed his forearms then dipped her fingers into the gap where they crossed. “If I told you the truth, you’d have me locked away.”
“I would still have the truth over any lie. I willnae abide my own wife withholding.”
“I barely know you.” She smiled. “Although I gather I soon will.”
“I would never hurt you. You need only speak the truth.” He couldn’t help tracing a finger over her full lower lip. Her beautiful smile caused her dimples to show. “How did you arrive?”
“Just promise me you won’t lock me up if I answer you.” She licked her lips and as she did, her tongue swept over the tip of his finger.
He wanted to capture that tongue and taste her for himself. He cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Aye, you have my word.”
“I didn’t arrive by the usual means.”
Mayhap she needed more encouragement. “The truth will set you free.”
“Usually, but in my case, and in this time, I don’t think so.”
“As my wife, ’tis my duty to protect you.” She was his, and his protection was absolute.
“I haven’t been anyone’s duty in a long time. I don’t expect it from you, no matter the length of time I’m here. All I ask is that we might be friends.”
She wished a friendship? With him? “You ask the impossible.”
“Or possible.” Blue eyes twinkling, she held out her hand as if expecting him to shake it as men did.
Instead he shook his head. His forthcoming bride had strange ways about her.
* * * *
“Please, I’ll tell you the truth if we agree on a friendship first.” A friendship was what Anne wanted, particularly with this man who would become her husband.
“You jest.” He coughed, rather haggardly.
“No, and we’ve already covered the whole no lying thing. Alex, I could seriously use a friend so far from home. Mary is lovely, but we’ll be wed, and honestly, wouldn’t it be nicer to pass the time enjoying each other’s company? You never know, you may even like me.”
“There’s nay need for it, but if you insist, I’ll offer friendship for the truth.” He caught her hand, brushed a kiss to her knuckles then released her. “How did you arrive at—”
A knock sounded on the door and Mary peeked in. “Oh, sorry to interrupt. Anne, I’ve ordered your bath, and the seamstress is waiting to see to your gown.”
“Come in. Alex was saying hello.”
“Oh, listen to you and your unusual words. Do you mean good morn?”
“I did. I’ve picked up a few new expressions and terms on my journeys, and enjoy using them from time to time.” An adequate explanation, hopefully.
“How wonderful. You must tell me of them when there’s time. Good morn, Alex.” Grinning, Mary played with the white ribbon threaded along the front of her emerald gown. “The fog has cleared, and ’twill be a beautiful day.”
“You appear happy, Mother.”
“Fergus informed me you’d found a marker. He left at first light with another of our best trackers.”
“Aye. We’ll find the chief, and soon.”
“James has cleaned up rather well. You should take a dip in the loch too.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Your bride must have no idea of the fine features you hide under all that dust you’ve picked up in your travels.”
He rubbed his heavily whiskered jaw. “As only a mother would say.”
Anne laughed. It had been so long since she’d witnessed a family’s closeness like this. Her parents had always shared a special bond, and had lavished attention on their only child. She’d missed this, family, teasing and togetherness. “He looks fine to me.” She rubbed his bristles. “A little furry, but I can deal.”
“You’ve picked up more than a few new expressions. I’ll go bathe. We’ll speak later.” He dipped his head then stepped away. “Mother, make sure my bride isnae late.”
“Midday. I have no’ forgotten.” He left and Mary chuckled. “My, my. What a nice surprise to find Alex taking the time to learn more about you.”
“We’ve agreed to a friendship. It’s a start.”
“More than a start.”
Another knock sounded and Mary opened the door. A seamstress scurried in, a white damask gown folded neatly over her arm.
“This is my wedding dress, Anne.” Mary lifted the shimmery silk woven into a lacelike pattern.
“It’s beautiful.” The bodice was cut boldly low and trimmed with lace. So extravagant. “Are you certain you wish to lend it to me?”
“My family spoilt me, as I shall spoil you. Please wear my gown. My daughter did.”
“I—I always wanted to wear Mum’s dress when I married, only it was lost in a fire.” It too had been made of white damask, only the fire that had taken it, had in turn taken her parents’ lives too. She fought back the sudden threat of tears. She was stronger than this, but it was a momentous day, one her parents should never have missed.
“Then wear it, and think of your mother. She’ll be watching from the heavens, I’m sure.”
“Thank you.” Mary knew what to say. “She would have liked you.”
“Such a compliment. Thank you.” She turned to the seamstress. “Let’s get to work. I wish to see my new daughter wed in this gown.”
The seamstress was a perfectionist, fitting and pinning the fabric to her. She took in every little nip. Once satisfied, she helped her step out of it then perched on the corner chair with it laid over her lap. From her basket, she selected needle and thread and set to work stitching.
At another knock, Mary crossed the room and bid a serving girl to enter. She placed a breakfast tray laden with a bowl of oats and honey on the side table. Two lads followed, heaving a wooden tub between them. They set it before the fire then hurried out as more servants arrived with pails of steaming water.
“Come. Time for you to eat.” Mary pulled out a chair and patted it.
Yes. Her belly gurgled. It had been far too long since she’d last eaten. She swirled the honey over the oats and ate as Mary oversaw the tub filling. After the servants left, she discarded her clothes and bathed. So refreshing. She lazed with her head on the rim while Mary sang a gentle Scottish song of bens and burns, and of the hearth and home. Words that made little sense, yet she understood them all the same. “I love that tune. My mum often sang when she bustled about her kitchen. They remind me of the good times.”
“I sang them to my bairns too, and I shall teach you the words if you’d like.” Mary held out a drying cloth. “Though after you’re wed. Alex willnae be happy if we’re late.”
She stepped out of the tub, wrapped the cloth around her and sat before the fire. Mary fussed over her. She brushed her hair until it gleamed then threaded dainty white silk flowers in a ribbon across the top.
The seamstress rose and smoothed the gown. “’Tis done, my ladies.”
“Wonderful.” Mary reverently examined the dress then grinned. “Perfect. Are you ready
, Anne?”
“I better be.” She stepped into the gown, and Mary quickly laced the stays. The lacy fabric flowed smoothly over her curves.
“You look stunning, my dear.” Mary pinched her cheeks. “And ’tis noon. We must be away.”
She twirled. “I feel like a princess.”
“Mayhap a fairy, and since you’re a MacLeod, ’tis in your blood.”
Yes. The Fairy Flag at Dunvegan had been gifted decades ago by the fairy princess to the son she’d had with the MacLeod chief after falling in love with him. She’d wrapped their firstborn in the crimson and yellow patterned cloth as she’d sung him to sleep, a story told down through the generations. It was the Fairy Flag Annie had wished upon and the same flag she’d viewed from the future at Dunvegan, which had brought her back again to the past. That Fairy Flag had a lot to answer for. So did Annie. She’d love to know more about her. Where had she disappeared to? And what would she do to make this all right?
“What has that worried look on your face?” Mary straightened the long sleeves of lace so they sat lower on Anne’s wrists.
“That I mustn’t forget the Fairy Flag, nor Dunvegan. But for now, Alex is waiting.”
“Aye, my son can be an impatient man. Let’s go.”
She followed Mary out the door. Theirs wasn’t a real marriage, but a sense of rightness twitched within her heart. She wanted this.
The emotion expanded as she stepped outside. In the bright daylight, the courtyard, part thick with grass and part paved with stone, led to one place. Alex.
Her Highlander from another time stood beside a well adorned with ivy and lavender. The castle walls rose majestically around him.
Over an immaculate white silk shirt, he’d fastened his plaid with a magnificent hand-sized broach depicting warriors at war. Her warrior clasped the hilt of his side-belted sword.
His jaw was smooth and strongly angled, his chin holding a visible cleft, and his golden gaze was targeted right on her. Oh, what a shame this wasn’t a marriage in truth. What a prize he’d make.
“Anne?” Mary patted her shoulder. “Alex awaits.”
“Yes.” Anticipation bubbled through her. Deep within her heart, she was more than ready, only why? What was it about Alex that drew her to him?
* * * *
Like an ethereal vision, Anne glided toward Alex. She reached him and he couldn’t help fingering her waist length locks. Even the sun’s rays feasted on her, setting her white-gold hair ablaze.
Damn. How would he keep his hands off her when she looked this edible? “You look…bonnie.”
“Thank you.” Her sapphire eyes burst with brightness. “You’ve washed up well yourself.”
Edible and delightful. He was in a world of trouble. He turned to his brother. “Do you have our plaid?”
“Aye, here.” James unraveled a strip of MacDonald tartan.
“Good.” This was it. The moment he’d not wished for, but now strangely did. He clasped his right hand with Anne’s right, and his left hand with her left then took a long, steadying breath. He looked into her eyes. She would be his wife, soon.
“It’ll be all right.” She squeezed his fingers. “This is meant to be. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
’Twas as if she spoke to his heart. “James will wrap the plaid around our hands and bind us together.” He nodded at his brother and James tightened the strap around their joined hands. The symbolic gesture had his pulse racing. Nay, this was simply a handfast, which was real enough, but that’s all. There would be no marriage in a year’s time.
“Let’s begin.” He cleared his throat. “I, Alexander William MacDonald, nephew of the Chief of MacDonald, pledge my troth to Anne MacLeod. With this handfast, I take her as my wife for the next year and a day. Your turn.” He tightened his grip on her hands.
“Well, that sounds easy enough.” She edged closer, touching the silk tips of her slippers to his boots. “I, Anne MacLeod, cousin of...the Chief of MacLeod, pledge my troth to Alexander William MacDonald. With this handfast, I take him as my husband for the next year and a day, or until I no longer reside in his home.”
“Nay, you will reside here. There can be no stipulation.”
“Of course, that’s what I meant.”
James nudged his arm. “She resides here. Now hurry and kiss your bride. Seal the vows.”
“Aye.” He wanted to taste her lips this once, and he must seal the vows. “You ready, lass?”
“To a friendship like no other.” She pressed her palms against his chest, and her touch seared his skin.
“Like no other.” His heart pounded as he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her soft lips. Damn. A spike of need rushed through him and he couldn’t stop himself. He urged her lips apart and plunged deeper. Sweet heaven, she tasted delicious, and her escaping moan had him greedy for more.
“Alex.” His brother slapped him on the back. “My good wishes to you and your bride. ’Tis time to feast. Mother and I will meet you inside the great hall.”
The grin on Mother and James’s faces as they strolled away had his frustration rising.
“Relax. It was just a kiss.”
“We cannae allow that to happen again.”
“If you say so.” She shrugged and tried to wriggle one hand free of the binding. “Gosh, James sure knows how to tie a knot.”
“Here, allow me.” He jerked on the knot and instead tightened it further.
She giggled, her cheeks flushing pink. “I’ll get this. I was a Girl Scout in my younger days and a whiz at the knot-tying badge.”
“What’s a Girl Scout?” She truly must have journeyed afar.
“It’s a girl who goes scouting and must perform certain tasks before being awarded a badge.” She examined the knot then used her teeth to tug at the lower loop. “I’m guessing I’m the first Girl Scout you’ve met?”
“Girls dinnae need to scout. We have warriors for that.”
“I see. What may girls do in this—ah, now?” After working one loop loose, she moved to the next.
“Needlepoint, perhaps a musical instrument.” Her warm breath caressed the inside of his wrist and sent desire shooting through him.
“Almost got it,” she mumbled as she nibbled. “And I’m not good with anything musical. I’m more of an outdoors kind of girl.”
“Nay, MacLeod permitted you to participate in outdoor activities?” What kind of chief allowed such a thing?
“Yes, swimming is a favorite. I bet I could beat your fastest warrior in the loch.”
“I’m the fastest, and nay, ’tis impossible.” He’d never permit her to swim with his men.
“You say that a lot. Wanna bet I can?” She wriggled another loop loose then slyly eyed him. “Say yes. My father, when he lived, loved to bet with me. He used to say it encourages one’s drive to succeed.”
“The loch is too cold for you at this time of the year.” He wouldn’t back down.
“With how fast I swim, I’ll not even feel the chill. Are you worried I might win?”
“Nay, are you done with the knot?”
She rubbed her cheek to the back of his hand as she gave the last loop a tug. The tartan stretched enough for her to slide one hand free. “Got it. See, being a Girl Scout came in handy today.”
“Thank you.” He unraveled the remainder of the binding. “Come, allow me to feed my Girl Scout.” He guided her inside, led her to the dais at the front of the great hall. With the chief away, he took the prime spot and offered her the seat on his left.
“I was certain that knot would hold you two together for much longer.” James winked at him.
“Aye, but apparently I’ve wed a Girl Scout.”
Before him, his clansmen filled their trenchers with thick slabs of meat and roasted vegetables. Serving girls weaved in and out, filling tankards with ale.
He loaded his own trencher, set it between him and Anne then offered her first choice. She ate, and once certain she was content, he turned toward James.
“I want you to take a personal message to Rory MacLeod. Inform him the handfast vows have been spoken, that our agreement’s been fulfilled and he should have been here to witness them himself.”
“Consider it done.” James nodded. “I’ll take some of the men with me. They’ll relish the trip.”
“Do that.” Good. His duty to his clan was done, although his one to Anne had just begun. He had a wife, and one far more tempting than he’d like. He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her closer to his side.
“Are you all right?” She gazed into his eyes.
“I’m simply ensuring your comfort.” Like hell he was. He still couldn’t keep his hands off her.
She smiled and her happiness dazzled him.
What had he gotten himself into?
He’d wed a woman he could never be friends with.
Chapter 3
Beautiful tapestries, of hunting and landscape scenes, hung every ten feet around the great hall, except for over the fireplace where a massive claymore, its silver and gold hilt encrusted with rubies and emeralds took pride of place. The sword appeared far too big for any one man to hold, let alone swing in battle. Anne turned toward Mary seated next to her. “Is that real?”
“Aye, ’tis a beauty. Alex wields it.”
She picked up her silver goblet and stroked the fine engraving. Everything brought delight to her eye, even the MacDonald clan. They’d grown in revelry as the afternoon had worn on, and now as evening descended the music flowed. Many danced, kicking up their heels to the lively piper tunes.
Tapping her feet under the table, she selected a morsel of salmon from the trencher she shared with Alex. She slipped it between her lips then savored the delectable flavor. So fresh. The sugared plums appeared sweetly ripe. She popped one into her mouth and moaned. Delicious. Highlanders certainly knew how to feast.
“Good tidings, Alex.” Yet another clansman approached her new husband and offered a nod to her.
“How are your wife and son?” Alex responded. He’d spent most of the day chatting with others and whenever they’d been a lull in the queue, James had taken his attention.
Highlander's Castle Page 3
