“Aye,” Arran agreed as he lowered her onto a bench. “She will.”
He stood back up, only to spot Skye at the church entrance.
He froze. His breath caught in his throat, and he could not look away.
Her hair, normally worn in a braid or gathered at the base of her neck, hung loose down to her waist in a cascade of curls. A wreath of small and delicate flowers was laced around a small band that pulled her hair away from her face.
Me maither’s wedding dress…as I directed Nellie.
Watching Skye walk down the aisle on Boyd’s arm stirred a now familiar feeling of possessiveness inside him. He reached over and pulled her away from Boyd. It was ridiculous, he knew. Boyd was old enough to be her grandfather, but no matter. No man, young or old, would touch her.
His heart pounded in his chest, and he pulled her roughly to his side. He lowered his lips to her ear, smelling roses and sunshine. “Lass, I have never seen anythin’ more beautiful.”
Their kiss from last night flashed through his mind, and now he looked at her with a combination of awe and lust. Her beauty stirred his body in a way no woman had ever done before. He leaned in to whisper his intentions for later, but he was interrupted.
The priest walked to the front of the kirk and stood in front of the couple. “Ye can take yer hands off yer bride, Laird MacArthur,” he gently admonished. “Ye’ll be married soon enough.”
Skye’s heart skipped a beat. She’d never thought a man beautiful until she’d met Arran. He stood there, tall, proud, and dark. His soul-piercing eyes bored into her own and then roamed over her hungrily.
The door of the church opened again, and Magnus rushed inside. He looked around the room and then asked, “Where is Fionn? Did he bring word from the Council?”
“Nay, the boy hasnae been here, High Enforcer,” Father William answered.
Magnus turned to Arran. “We… uh… we need to get this done, Arran. There is nay time to waste.”
Skye started to panic. “What is it, Magnus? Is me stepfaither here?”
“Nae yet, Lady Skye. But he is close.” Magnus turned to the priest. “We need to start the ceremony, Faither.”
Boyd stepped up to them and shook his head. “Ye ken we cannae do that, Magnus. Faither William needs the papers from the council.”
“Yer on the council, Boyd,” Arran pointed out.
“The papers must be signed by the whole council, nae just me.”
“Faither William, can ye just nae…”
“Nay, I cannae proceed without kennin’ that the council has approved this union, Laird MacArthur. Ye ken I cannae.”
Skye started wringing her hands. She looked out the door and back to Arran again several times while they waited. She started to pace in front of the altar, and this time Arran took her hand and pulled her to him.
“Skye.”
She looked over her shoulder at the door again.
“Skye, look at me.”
She looked into his eyes. “Fionn will be here. He will make it in time.”
She breathed easier.
He calms me. His mere presence calms me.
And at that same moment, the door crashed open and a boyish voice yelled, “I’ve got them!”
Skye thought she’d fall to the floor with relief. But then Fionn added, “And, me Laird, Logan says Blackwell is just past the ridge!”
“Close and lock the door, and dinnae let anyone enter!” Arran ordered his men.
