Page 87 of The Highlander's Temporary Bride
“What?” Emma had asked and tilted her head as he gave her an inscrutable look.
“Ye, Emma,” he had murmured. “Ye’ve brought somethin’ here that none of us kenned we needed—and now we dinnae ken how we lived without it.” He had kissed her softly and held her close. “Light, joy, and somethin’ else I cannae name. But I see it in yer smile, in the way ye toss yer hair, in the twinkle in yer eyes. Banrose is blessed to have such a Lady.”
Emma’s entire body ached with happiness, gratitude, and humility every time she thought of those words—and no more so than tonight, it seemed. Brenda squeezed her hand, as though sensing that she was overwhelmed with joy.
The congregation joined them at the garden gate, dressed in tartan and flowers, nodding their heads.
Kyla came forward and waved her hand, leading the way. They passed through until they reached the oldest part of Banrose, where a gnarled tree stood sentinel, carved with generations of names and initials, and roses ran riot over the stone walls.
Grant stood there, waiting. He was dressed in a white shirt and a kilt, with his hair tied back. His eyes and smile were soft as he stepped forward to take Emma’s hand, and then he kissed his mother’s cheek.
“Thank ye.”
Kyla stepped forward, holding a book and smiling. She wore a circlet of white flowers, and it seemed to Emma that they’d stepped into a different world. The land seemed to call to her with flowers and song, and she sensed that she’d always belonged here. That the land had been waiting for so long and now welcomed her with open arms.
The fading light poured into the garden through an archway that faced the loch as Kyla bid them all welcome. Emma had wanted her new friend to officiate their wedding, and Grant hadn’t been sure she could, but then he found a way.
For they’d told no one of their secret handfasting ceremony and instead had immediately agreed to Brenda’s idea of having one on the day they returned.
In a few months, they’d be married, when all of Emma’s family could attend, and she looked forward to that. But these sacred vows, witnessed by Banrose, bound her to this place.
And Grant, who she fell more in love with every day.
Kyla spoke in Gaelic at first, sweet and lovely, and while Emma was learning bits of it, she did not understand all of it. Instead, she let the music of it wash over her and pictured Grant murmuring against her skin. Then, Kyla switched to English, and Emma tried not to weep at the healer’s declaration.
“Now, ye shall be bound as the Lord Above intended—husband and wife cleaving unto each other,” Kyla said. “With this cord, ye shall be bound, and these fine folk of Banrose shall bear witness.”
Emma pulled in a breath as Grant pulled out the red cloth they’d used in their secret ceremony. She had not seen it since that time and had secretly feared they’d forgotten it at Cambarelle. He winked at her, for it now had gold and blue tasseled cords braided around it.
He passed it to Kyla, then reached for Emma’s hand and threaded their fingers. Kyla took the cloth, reverent and seemingly fighting back tears as she wrapped it around the wrists of her Laird and Lady.
“Now ye are bound with a tie that nay man or queen—” folk burst out laughing at that—“shall break. We bear witness to the bindin’ of Laird and Lady Ronson, Grant Miller and Emma Wells. May ye always find each other, and may yer love grow stronger every year.”
Emma’s eyes filled with tears as she went up on her tiptoes. Grant was already reaching for her with his other hand, and their lips met in a kiss.
She laughed as cheers rang out, then fiddle music and trumpets sounded from beyond the walls—for all of Banrose was waiting outside the garden to celebrate the new Lady Ronson.
“I love ye,” Grant said, “and ye cannae think I didnae keep our cloth, Emma.”
Emma gazed up at her husband, his joyous smile and bright eyes, and all she could say was, “I love you.”
And they kissed again, before rushing to dance and make merry until dawn broke.
CHAPTER 36
A Few Months Later
“Me love,I wish ye would stop frettin’,” Grant teased from where he lay on their large bed, watching Emma working at her desk. With a quill in one hand, she scribbled task after task, and only paused to bite her thumb. “Come to bed. I beg ye—the stars are out, and the moon has risen.”
Emma glanced over and stuck out her tongue at him. “Not yet, as I told youseveraltimes before, Grant. I must finish this. The day after tomorrow, guests will begin to arrive, and we are to be wed in a week.” She sighed. “There is too much to do. I should have started this months ago.”
“Everythin’ will be fine,” Grant soothed. “I promise ye. That can wait.”
“No,youcan wait,” she said in a short tone.
Grant pushed himself up on his elbows, and his eyes narrowed, even as a smile played on his lips. “Is that so,Sassenach?”
A pleasurable shiver raced down Emma’s spine. He only said such things when he truly meant to act like a devil and torture her with bliss. And she wondered if she had perhaps meant to rile him up.
