Page 94 of Laird of Twilight
“A vow here would be forever,” she said.
“So be it. Let clergy and court come later.”
“James,” she said, “what if you decide to live in the south, while I want to stay in the Highlands? We never settled that question.”
“We will solve it. I will stay here as much as I can, and perhaps you will come to the city when I must be there. We can keep a house here and another there. And it may be,” he said then, surprising himself with the new revelation, “that I will want to be here always. I may decide to give up the university work and devote myself to research and writing—at Struan.”
“You might?”
“Aye. Good, then. How is this thing to be done?”
His heart was hammering. He was not uncertain but anticipated the risks, the challenges. Though he was not an impulsive soul by any means, something within him insisted that this was right, and had to be.
“We hold hands and say a vow of our own making,” she said. “And we need—let me see.” She looked around. “Over here!”
Tugging on his hand, she led him toward a narrow stream of water that cut down over the rock from the mountaintop.
“Here?” he asked.
“Aye, over water. It carries rain and melted snow from the highest point to the lowest spot, so it joins the power of the mountain and sky and earth. Step over to the other side, and I shall stand here, so the water runs between us.”
He stepped across the narrow runnel to face her. He had heard of such things, had read of them here and there. Joining hands over running water was believed to make any vow powerful and binding.
Elspeth turned, beckoned to her grandfather, who walked toward them. Silent, discreet, he folded his hands and stood a distance away. He nodded.
James took her hands in his. Her slender fingers trembled. Letting go, she drew off her gloves—his hands were bare—so they could touch skin to skin. He took the gloves, tucked them in his pocket.
Then Elspeth crossed her forearms, placing her right hand in his right, her left in his left. “The custom in handfasting is to form a love knot. A union forged with a knot and entwined with a blessing will last forever.”
“What of the vows?”
“Say what is in your heart,” she whispered. “Let the words come to you.”
James frowned, thoughtful, closing his eyes. After a moment—perhaps it was the place, perhaps the significance of what was happening—a feeling swelled within, heart and soul. The force gathered and filled him with awe, with humility. With love. Feeling earth beneath him, the quiet power of the water and mountain air, he felt the words come to him.
“I, James Arthur MacCarran, take you, Elspeth—”
“Eilidh,” she whispered. “My birth name.”
“Ay-lesh,” he repeated, gazing at her through misting rain. “I, James Arthur MacCarran, Lord Struan, pledge my troth and my heart and all my worldly goods to you, Eilidh MacArthur. I bless the day we met, and I give you my heart. Here in this place, I take you as my wife and my lover, in body and soul, forever and a day.”
“I, Eilidh MacArthur,” she murmured, “pledge my troth and heart to you, James Arthur MacCarran, Lord Struan. I too bless the day we met. I bless your strong will and your kindness, for they strengthen me. I take you as my husband and lover, in body and in soul, forever and a day.”
“May none put this asunder,” he murmured. Leaning forward, drawing her crossed hands toward him, he kissed her lips. Water burbled between and beneath, the rain fell upon them, and the tender kiss lingered. His heart pounded hard with the promise he had made.Forever.It felt as solid as the rock beneath his feet.
She lifted on her toes, leaning toward him, then drew back. James stepped over the water to join her, taking her in his arms. “Now, Lady Struan,” he murmured, “we will be safe inside the cave.”
“Lady Struan?”
“That is who you are now. Soon we will make it completely legal.”
“Come, Lord Struan, let us get on with it.” She tugged at his hand.
“Get on with it? Madam!” He laughed.
“Not that,” she said, smiling. “The cave. The search.”
“I thought perhaps the condition of finding treasure might be lifted now.”
