Daphne’s eyes widened as she looked up at him, but he saw only excitement with a hint of nervousness within her eyes, no fear.
“All right, lass?” he asked.
“Yes.” As she spoke, a loose curl from her coiffure brushed her collarbone. He was arrested by the contrast of that lock against her pale skin, and the gleaming pearls that hung around her neck like frozen dewdrops along a delicate spider’s web.
My lady in pearls.
“You may kiss your bride,” Mr. McKenzie announced.
Lachlan leaned down, his free hand still curled in hers, their other hands bound fast, and kissed her. Tonight, he would see her in his bed, wearing nothing but those pearls, and he would make her smile, make her laugh, make her as happy as she was making him in that moment. When their lips broke apart, he heard her breathless sigh and reached up to brush her chin with his fingertips.
“You finally belong to me.”
She caught his wrist and stroked his skin beneath the cuff of his shirtsleeve. “And you to me.”
“Indeed.”I will not let the past destroy us. The pain of William’s death was finally muted, like a painting left in a sunny room, the colors bleached white, leaving barely a hint of what had once been so vivid. Daphne would paint new memories for him, ones of joy, not sorrow.
His throat tightened as the priest removed the hand bindings.
“I present Lord and Lady Huntley.”
Cameron clapped loudly along with Eliza and Moira, who both wiped their eyes. For some glorious, ridiculous reason, Lachlan laughed, unable to contain the joy in his heart.
“I suppose you have a feast ready at home, Mother?”
Moira smiled despite her tears. “Of course. It’s not every day my wee bairn takes a wife.”
“Wee bairn?” Cameron laughed harder than Lachlan. “He’s not been wee in over twenty years!”
“Mother, you mustn’t embarrass me in front of my wife,” he teased. “No man wishes to be thought of as wee on his wedding day.”
Cameron laughed. “Indeed! Or Daphne will worry what else is wee on you tonight when you—Oomph!” Cameron doubled over as Eliza elbowed him hard in the chest.
Daphne giggled and Lachlan curled an arm around her waist.
“I promise, lass, there’s nothing wee about me.” He laughed again as she blushed scarlet.
The small wedding party exited the church and for the first time in two months, Lachlan embraced the warmth of the sun on his face. Daphne was his wife and tonight he would show her a world of pleasure. Perhaps Stirling had been right after all.
She will heal me. She’s already begun to.
***
Married. I am married.
Daphne couldn’t stop smiling as she waited in Lachlan’s bed chambers. It was close to midnight, but she wasn’t tired. They’d spent the remainder of the day feasting and playing games in the drawing room with Cameron and Eliza. It had been the most fun she’d had in such a long time.
She plucked nervously now at the nightgown she’d changed into. The only thing she wore aside from it was her mother’s pearls. Lachlan had stopped her in the corridor just before she’d left to change for bed. He caught her by the waist and leaned close to whisper, “Wear the pearls, and nothing else.”
She couldn’t very well wait in his chambers completely naked, but she assumed he would insist upon her removing her nightgown once he arrived.
The sound of footfalls outside the door made her tense. She curled her fingers into the fabric of her nightgown.
Lachlan entered. He carried a delicate decanter of wine and a pair of glasses. He froze when he saw her standing there by his bed, barefoot, her hair unbound, wearing nothing but her nightclothes. He blinked and then gave his head a little shake.
“I thought you might wish for a drink.” He gave the decanter a slight whirl and she nodded. A drink would help calm her nerves.
“Yes, that would be nice.” She fidgeted for a moment before sitting down in the chair next to his desk. He poured two glasses and, after slipping one glass into her hand, drank his in two long gulps. He refilled his glass and brought it to his lips.
