Page 79 of Captured By the Cruel Highlander
“There, ye are ready,” Lady MacNiall said, a tremor in her voice. Then, in a moment that surprised them all, she embraced Emily, hugging her tightly to herself.
She let her go again, awkward and stiff in her movements, but Emily appreciated the gesture more than she could say.
“Yer maither may nae be here today, but I have two daughters, and I wouldnae mind havin’ another.” Her expression was still severe, but she managed a faint smile.
Emily could tell that Moira Kane was not an affectionate woman by nature. “Thank ye,” she said awkwardly.
“I wish Laura were here because I ken she would have approved of the woman Adam has chosen.”
Emily looked at Freya, who nodded.
“Laura would have loved ye, although she would have been jealous of yer hair,” Freya said thoughtfully.
“Why?” Emily asked, looking at the wild red locks that fell about Freya’s face. “Yer hair is beautiful.”
Freya chuckled. “It’s a bother. I get it from me faither.”
“He was called The Phoenix on the battlefield,” Lady MacNiall said, her whole face brightening when she spoke of her late husband.
Freya sighed, running her fingers down Emily’s dress. “Ye will be the bonniest bride there ever was.”
Emily’s insides were churning at the thought, and she looked between the two women uncertainly. “Ye ken it isnae really?—”
Lady MacNiall held up her hand. “I have noticed that ye have been avoidin’ one another. I ken that Adam can be a hot-headed man, but he doesnae fool me. He cares for ye, or he wouldnae be doin’ all of this in the first place. The key to a happy marriage is to have a husband who is obsessed with yer every movement.” She gave Emily a sly smile.
“I dinnae expect to have ahappymarriage,” Emily confessed. “But I will make sure I have a peaceful one.”
With a final rearranging of her skirts and sash, she was finally ready. The brooch gleamed on her shoulder. It reminded her of the one Adam had worn when she had first seen him. She hoped he was wearing it today, too, so that they matched.
As Freya and Lady MacNiall left the room, Emily took one last look in the mirror, wondering where the day would lead, trying to quell her fear that the wedding would be nothing more than an illusion.
Adam’s mouth was dry as he stood at the altar.
He told himself it was because of the inherent danger around them, but in his mind, he knew he was anticipating seeing Emily again.
There were men placed throughout the kirk. The congregation was made up of his people and his family. Hidden in andamongst the crowd were soldiers disguised as guests. A dozen or so lay in wait outside the kirk, and many more lined the edges of the room.
They were prepared.
Doughall stood beside him, his eyes alert and ready.
Laird MacGordon may have appeared calm on the surface, but Adam knew the calculating warrior within. He would be a coiled spring, ready to act at the slightest movement.
“Have ye seen anythin’?” Adam asked softly.
“Nay. Nae a shadow on the horizon,” his friend replied. “Ye focus on yer weddin’, I’ll focus on me sword.”
“It is only a matter of time.”
Do I want James to come so I can get Laura back, or do I want him nae to come so I can really marry Emily?
Adam shifted his weight, finding it difficult to breathe.
A few rows back to his right sat his cousin, Laird MacTristan. He had arrived early, with over twenty men to support the cause. He was a huge man and by far the most conspicuous of them, his wide shoulders crowding those on either side of him.
As MacTristan’s gaze met his, Adam gave him a warning glare, and he attempted to relax back into his chair.
The kirk was small, the main door leading out to the wide expanse of the moorlands and hills beyond. Green grass swayed in the breeze, and clumps of purple heather dotted the dark marshlands.
