“I do wish to marry this man,” Catriona said, reaching out to rest a reassuring hand atop the priest’s arm. “He’s a good man, Father. I promise ye.”
“Humpf!” The priest stood taller and resettled the cloak about his narrow shoulders. “We’d best be about it then before the sun sets and this air grows any colder.” He reached inside his robes and drew out a small book with a worn faded binding and ragged cover. Still scowling, he lifted his long nose and glanced about the clearing, his damning gaze settling on each of the men. “Gather ’round then. Ye shall be the witnesses.”
Graham, Magnus, Duncan, and Sutherland gave obedient grins and lined up on either side of the couple.
Licking the tip of his thumb, Father William opened his book and fluttered through the pages until he reached the desired passage. Holding it open in his palm, he traced a finger down the yellowed page then lifted his gaze and gave Alexander a stern look.
“Do ye…” Father William paused and scowled up at Alexander. “What be your full Christian name, man?”
“Alexander Grant Maxwell MacCoinnich.” Alexander swallowed hard and tensed against the sudden urge to cross himself and draw his sword. There was nothing quite so dire and ball-shrivelin’ as giving your full Christian name to a priest.
Father William turned to Catriona. "And your name, lass?"
“Catriona Elizabeth Rose Neal.”
“Verra well then.” Father William cleared his throat, leveled his shoulders, and continued. “Do ye, Alexander Grant Maxwell MacCoinnich, take Catriona Elizabeth Rose Neal to be your wife 'til death shall part the two of ye?”
A cold sweat stole across Alexander and he swallowed hard again. “Aye. I do so.” Before the priest could continue, he turned to Catriona and held her hands tighter. The sudden need to make Catriona believe he did this of his own free will overtook him. “I have nothing to give ye but my heart and soul but I would have ye know that they’ll e’er be yours. From this moment forward, we shall be as one 'till death shall end our years.” His mam had taught him the oath long ago. Perhaps 'twas her spirit that had reminded him of the words. The words she’d said that his father had once said to her.
Catriona’s lips parted and her eyes took on the sheen of tears.
The priest cleared his throat. “Verra good. Now, Catriona Elizabeth Rose Neal, do ye take Alexander Grant Maxwell MacCoinnich to be your husband 'til death shall part ye?”
“Aye,” Catriona said without shifting her gaze from Alexander’s. She squeezed his hands as she continued, “The first cut of my meat, the first sip of my wine, I vow shall always be yours. At night, only your name shall ever grace my lips and my smile is for your eyes alone each morning. I swear upon my heart and soul before all these witnesses here that I will forevermore cherish and honor ye through this life and into the next.”
“Humpf!” The priest frowned at her for a moment then gave a noncommittal shrug. “A bit pagan, but I’ll allow it.” He huffed out an exasperated humming exhale as though trying to ensure he’d forgotten nothing. At long last, he cleared his throat, looked first at Catriona, then shifted his gaze to Alexander. “I hereby pronounce ye married. Two ye no longer be. Forevermore ye be one. Let no man put asunder what God hath done.” He snapped his Bible shut, shoved it into the pocket of his robes, and studied each person of the group as though assessing their status of eternal damnation or ascension into heaven. Nostrils flaring, he huffed out a disgruntled snort then asked, “Where’s the whisky?”
