Page 76 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
“Of course,” Micah said. “Ain’t it all so exciting, Milady? Yer wedding is the most fun we’ve had in ages.” He ruffled his hair. “I cannae wait for the dancin’.”
“Lady Helena,” cried a breathless voice.
She started, her guilt growing worse. Had Damien suspected her antics already?
Instead, she saw Fiona grinning from ear to ear.
“Guests are arrivin’.”
“Oh, wonderful,” she said and made to step forward, then paused.
Perhaps she could post the letter another time. She should consult with Damien; she would not like it if he did such a thing.
But when she turned around, the runner had vanished, along with her letter.
Oh dear.
She tried to shrug, but the guilt grew worse.
That’s that.
“Helly,” called a warm voice.
Helena beamed as Lady Merie approached, her eyes dancing. The older woman was dressed in MacCabe tartan, with more tartan in her hands.
“There ye are. Come on, lass, and let me tie this on ye.”
“Oh,” Helena said, conscious of the people around them stopping and gazing at her. A few even put their hands on their hearts. “I—now? Are you sure…?” she trailed off as the cloth went around her and Lady Merie tied it.
Lady Merie stepped back and took a few breaths, her eyes shining, and then she reached out a trembling hand toward Helena’s face.
“Ye will make a very fine Lady MacCabe,” she whispered, then embraced Helena in front of everyone. “I am proud to be yer maither-in-law.”
“Thank you,” Helena whispered back, hugging her tightly. “I am so happy to be your new daughter.”
Lady Merie’s breath caught, and she stepped back, waving a hand and pulling out a handkerchief at the same time. “Och, but ye will make me nothin’ but a puddle of tears. I… Och.” She smiled. “What d’ye think, Damien?”
Helena looked up at that moment, her hands tightening in the tartan as Damien strode down the hall, similarly arrayed, and a wondrous smile lit up his face.
“I think I cannae wait much longer to marry her,” he said, and titters rang around the hall. “And that ye have some folk verra eager to see ye.”
He offered her his arm, and she took it, lifting her head and then laughing as cheers and whistles broke out. Amid a lively crowd, they walked out into the courtyard, where her heart soared higher. Two laughing women came rushing toward her, their hands outstretched. Damien pressed a kiss to her temple, then pushed her toward them.
A second later, she was hugging both Emma and Agnes, laughing a little through her tears. Damien was greeting and embracing Laird Ronson and Laird MacLarsen.
Helena could not help but watch Damien over Emma’s head—his ease, his smiles, and the way he threw his head back as he laughed at something Grant said. He seemed to sense her gaze and glanced over, sending her a wink.
“Look at you!” Emma exclaimed, squeezing Helena’s shoulders.
Agnes and Emma were both looking her over in such a similar fashion that Helena laughed.
“You are glowing.” Emma leaned in. “Are you with child already?”
“What?” Helena exclaimed with a laugh. “No. It’s all this fresh air.”
“And a good partnership,” Agnes said with a shrewd glance. “Seems Leo was right. You are the only Lady for Laird MacCabe.”
“Indeed,” Emma said and raised an eyebrow. “I saw that sweet, little kiss. You’ve charmed him, Helena. Not that I’m surprised.”
