Page 77 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
We have guards surrounding her carriage. She will arrive safely.
At the sound of the horse’s hooves in the distance, however, Callum breathed a sigh of relief. He stiffened as they approached, the dark shapes of the horses flitting past the entrance as the carriage came to a stop outside.
The congregation rose as the minister took up position behind him.
The sun was shining across the flagstones by the entrance of the church. It was a slight building on the edge of the loch. A small stained-glass window at the top of the far wall looked down on him, an image of an angel with her arms spread wide, sending golden shards of light across the guests.
Footsteps on gravel could be heard as Kristen and Lydia’s maid slipped into the church. Kristen came to take her seat in the front pew, winking at her husband on the way by.
Callum stared at the end of the aisle as another shadow appeared in the church doorway, as Lydia stepped into the church.
Everything faded away. He did not hear a sound or see another soul as she began to walk toward him.
Callum didn’t consciously hold his breath, but as his lungs began screaming at him, he had to release it slowly.
She was a vision. Her beautiful dark hair had been tied back in intricate plaits about her head, but the majority hung loose behind her neck. The dress she wore was perfect in every way, a cascading dark gray design that shimmered as she moved.
One chance meeting in a garden and I am to marry the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
Frenetic movement to his right caught Callum’s attention, and he glanced briefly down at the girls. Eilis and Amy were bouncing up and down, both whispering together in much excitement at the dress.
They were a couple of pews back from him, and as Lydia passed them, she handed the girls a thistle each. His heart clenched.
She is thinking of them even on her weddin’ day.
The scent that had clung to him all through the night wafted toward him, fresh and beautiful once more as she glided to his side.
Her mother walked beside her, releasing her arm with a smile of joy as she went to take her seat, and Callum turned to Lydia, finding himself speechless for the first time in his life.
“You are staring,” she said, touching her fingers to her face, her brow furrowing. “Is all well?”
Callum could not speak, his mind overwhelmed with wicked fantasies. He was back beside the lakeshore, with Lydia in that dress, the stars on the fabric reflecting the sky above. His mind was telling him one thing, his body demanding another.
“Aye,” he said shortly. “Aye, all is well.”
I never thought I would begin to care for me own damned wife.
He turned away, trying to get a handle on his emotions as his skin became hot with desire at the thought that she would soon be his.
The minister stepped up before them, his bald head shining in the faint light from the window behind.
There was a great rustling of clothing and creaking furniture as the congregation took their seats. Alexander stood back but remained on alert, scanning the church for any signs of trouble—removing the burden from Callum’s shoulders for a while.
“Dearly beloved…”
Callum felt slim fingers close over his forearm as the minister began to speak. They snaked around his wrist and over his hand, as Lydia held it tightly in hers.
Does she feel as nervous as I? It isnae about the weddin’ though, it is about what might happen, and who might come for us.
But even as he repeated those words to himself like a mantra, he knew they weren’t true.
He had woken up that morning filled with anticipation. And it was not only because he feared what might come but also because of the woman standing beside him.
He had come to value Lydia in the time they had been together more than he had ever believed possible. Their alliance stirred feelings in him that he could not name and did not wish to analyze too closely.
I cannae let meself be drawn under her spell. After today, we must separate. She will be with the girls, and I will be with me men.
“Do you, Laird Callum Murray…”
