The modest gray stone structure stood in contrast to the bright blue sky. She could see the small cemetery past the building. The kirkyard held several stones.
The scene was idyllic, and Skye could see why Clan MacArthur would not want to give up this special place.
It was evident as they neared the kirk that the wedding party had arrived. At least twenty horses were tied to posts, and two wagons were parked nearby. Outside the kirk doors, three guards stood watch.
They stopped, secured the horses, and Arran and Skye didn’t waste any time. They approached the guards.
“Greetings, lads. I am Skye Gilroy, Lady of Clan MacArthur, and I am here to witness the nuptials of me faither, Laird MacKeith.”
She almost gagged at the thought of Blackwell as a father, but she managed to smile.
The guards looked leery.
“Me husband and I want to wish him well. And as ye can see, we came with only a small escort. We mean him nay harm.”
The guards looked past them and then at each other. One nodded, and then they opened the doors.
Skye and Arran inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Their plan had worked, so far. Skye could hardly believe their luck.
Inside the kirk, the mood was reverent. Two elaborate candelabras adorned with lit candles flanked the altar, but there were no flowers. A priest stood looking down at the bride and groom. Few people graced the pews, and those who did looked downtrodden and somber.
It was not the wedding scene many would expect.
Laird MacKeith stood at the front, dressed in his Highland finery. Lilias Conner, the bride-to-be, stood beside him in a simple but elegant cream-colored gown.
Blackwell turned when the door opened and the bright sunlight streamed in. A smug smile spread across his lips when he saw Arran and Skye cross the threshold. The small gathering of witnesses murmured quietly at the intrusion.
Arran walked swiftly to the front of the kirk, with Skye and Colin at his heels. All eyes were on them. Everyone held their breath.
Arran’s voice boomed through the cavernous chapel, and his words were delivered with pure authority. “Ye’ll nae go through with this, MacKeith. We willnae let ye.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ahush fell over the chapel as Arran’s words echoed off the walls. All eyes turned toward the imposing Highlander as he walked down the aisle toward the altar. A hum of whispers started again when they recognized Laird MacArthur.
Tension and anticipation were felt by the wedding guests, who looked on and wondered what would happen between the stepdaughter of the groom and her husband, who everyone knew had ill feelings toward their Laird.
But Skye only saw Lilias. The woman was not beautiful in the classic sense, but her thick black hair and bright blue eyes were striking. However, now those eyes showed shock and confusion.
Blackwell looked at Skye, and the smirk on his face only widened.
Skye shot him a look of disgust but then turned her attention to the woman who stood beside him. “Lilias,” she implored in atone that she hoped was perceived as sincere, “ye cannae marry him. I fear ye dinnae ken what sort of man he is.”
Lilias looked at her warily at first, but then her eyes flashed with anger. She crossed her arms over her chest and asked, “Who are ye, lass? And why are ye interrupting me weddin’?”
Skye had rehearsed in her mind what she would say to Lilias over and over again, but now that she stood before the woman, she was at a loss for words. Lilias’s defiance had surprised her.
Likely, she daes no ken daes no understand whit transpirit wi ma maither an’ me.
Skye realized she needed to explain quickly, and do it in a way that could not be ignored or put down to jealousy. She gathered her thoughts, took a deep breath then addressed Lilias and the wedding guests.
“ I am Skye Pressly, daughter of Helena Blackwell, Laird MacKeith’s wife. Some of ye already know me.” She then turned to the prospective bride. “Lilias, I am here to tell ye that this man ye are about to marry willnae treat ye well. He beat me maither terribly and his other three wives before her. I have seen it with me own eyes. I escaped abuse only because he hoped to use me to get a strong son-in-law so that he might have an heir. Ye might think him kind and even charming now, but he will show his true self soon enough.”
Blackwell’s smirk dropped as his expression turned furious. His eyes glinted with malice as he took a step toward Skye. Arran and Colin stepped closer as well.
“Lies! All lies!” Blackwell roared. “They are trying to turn ye against me, an’ their only motive is to make Arran me heir. He wants me lands. He wants me fortune. They daenae want yer son to become the next Laird MacKeith. It’s greedy they are, Lilias!”
Skye watched several emotions flash across over Lilias’s face. She feared the woman would side with Blackwell.
