Page 37 of Bride of the Merciless Laird
“What did he say?” She was practically jumping out of her skin.
“He didnae disagree wi’ our union, but nor did he agree. He is coming tae Eilean Donan with his lady wife and others, tae discuss it with us face tae face. He wanted tae hear yer opinion.”
Tyra’s face lit up with joy. Without thinking, she reached for his hand. “Oh, that is wonderful news.” She turned to the others. “I’m certain me braither will be happy tae agree once he meets ye all and sees this bonnie castle. I ken his only wish is fer me tae be...”
Without warning, her voice trailed away. Shaking her head she lowered her eyes and wiped her flour-covered hands on her apron, chewing on her lower lip.
Whatever had made her catch her breath like that? Ewan guessed she’d been about to say that her brother’s only wish was for her to be happy. His heart sank.
Is the Lady Tyra afraid her braither will think her unhappy and nae consent tae our marriage?
It was then he made up his mind.
“And, some further news fer ye. I have decided on that trip tae the village.”
All three looked at him in anticipation, Isla grinning widely.
“Aye. I can see ‘tis what ye all wish fer. We shall ride there tomorrow and dine on Malcom’s finest. He keeps me a special hoard of the best French wine…” He looked sideways at Tyra who caught his glimpse and gave a tiny nod in recognition of the night when she had enjoyed Malcolm’s French wine a little too enthusiastically. He went on. “I daresay the peddler will be staying at the inn, so if we stay there overnight, we’ll have the first taste of his wares the following day.”
Isla clapped her hands, sending a little cloud of powdery flour into the air. “It will be wonderful tae go out at last.”
“Aye.” Ewan nodded, enjoying the enthusiasm greeting his words.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The weather had improved slightly by the time they rode off from the castle the following afternoon. The sun was shining at last, hanging low in the wintery afternoon sky.
As Tyra looked back at the castle from the hilltop above the village, its stones glowed gold in the afternoon sunshine, a far cry from the grim, mist-covered grey stones she’d first encountered. Her heart lifted. She was looking forward to that special time in the company of Isla and Duncan, who were always filled with warmth and good cheer. And, of course, there would be time with Ewan. It would be good to see him for once without the burdens of his lairdship, at ease in the inn, among his closest family.
As they clattered into the innyard she feared the bad memories from that terrifying sojourn there might impinge on the pleasantness she was hoping for. But there were a number of horses already in the stables and from the inn came the sound of music and laughter.
As they entered, Malcom hastened to greet them.
There was a merry company in the main parlor and Malcolm escorted them through a side door to a private room.
“There’s a wedding party celebrating here, sire. Later they’re planning acèilidh, so there’ll be loud music and dancing.” He looked a trifle anxious. “I trust ye’ll nae be disturbed.”
Isla beamed. “Acèilidh. Oh, how marvelous.” She reached a hand to Ewan. “Surely we can join in, and the laird can give his blessing tae the happy couple.”
The innkeeper nodded. “I shall speak wi’ the bridal party. Laird Mackenzie, I ken they will be honored tae be graced wi’ the laird and his family this night. It will make the occasion even more momentous.”
Being scooped up into such a happy event at once drowned out the last whisper of the past terrors Tyra was struggling to resist. That night, there would be new memories made. And, so far, the mood was one of unbridled enjoyment that was like spring rain after the privations of winter.
Two lasses from the kitchen came hurrying over with goblets and a large ewer brimming with red wine. The older of the two filled the glasses and they both scurried back to the busy kitchen.
Malcolm appeared again. “I took the liberty of filling the ewer from one of yer barrels in the cellar when I saw yer party ride intae the yard, Laird Ewan.”
Ewan raised a glass. “Good man. Ye ken me taste.”
“And the wedding party will be greatly honored if ye, yer braither and the ladies would care tae join in thecèilidh.”
They raised their glasses amid numerous toasts to their good health, to the continued good weather, to the safe arrival of the Laird MacNeacail.
After they’d sipped the fine wine, Ewan raised his glass again. “Slainte mhathtae me lovely soon-to-be betrothed, the Lady Tyra MacNeacail.”
A cheer went up, led by Duncan, and they clinked their goblets and drank the toast. Tyra’s cheeks flushed with heat and her heart jumped with unaccustomed happiness.
Malcolm and his two kitchen helpers bustled out with large helpings of fragrant venison pie. They consumed their mouth-watering meal to the accompaniment of music and laughter from the parlor.
