He remained rooted to the spot, leaning closer until his nose nearly touched hers. “Only if ye wish it. I ken well enough this hasna been the easiest time for ye. We’ve the rest of our lives to meet the clan.” He paused, toying with the words begging to be said. “I dinna wish to start off wrongly with ye, Evie. ’Tis my hope to make ye happy to have me as yer husband.”
“You are a good man, Quinn.” She touched his face with such tenderness it made him shiver. “And where I’m from, good men are in short supply.”
“Then if ye are certain, let us go to the hall.” He gave her an apologetic tip of his head. “I have no doubt word has spread, and folk are already gathering.
She squeezed his arm. “The girls and I looked in on the way here. It seemed quite busy already.”
Several waited for them outside the kirk, clapping and cheering as soon as they opened the door. Children rushed forward to hand Evie wildflowers they had gathered from the meadow next to the wall.
“Ahh…now I smell the roasting pits,” Rosstan said as he followed a few steps behind.
Kendric stepped around them and walked in front as though standing guard. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave a curt, unsmiling nod. “Kendric Macwaters, m’lady. War chief and head guardian of yer husband since the attacks.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Macwaters. I hope you’re able to keep him safe.” Evie glanced up at Quinn. Worry had replaced the doubt and fear in her eyes. “Still no memory of the other day? Before the bash on your head?”
All he remembered was a muddled mess of distorted sounds and pain, but he wasn’t about to go into that on their wedding day. “Today is a day of celebration. Nothing else.” He pointed Kendric’s attention toward the double doors leading to the main hall. “If ye wish to protect me, see that enough drink is set and ready. If we run out of ale, it could be dire.”
Kendric thumped a fist to his chest and made a slight bow. “Aye, my chieftain. Rosstan and I shall see to it.”
As the two men ambled off and entered the hall first, Quinn caught Evie watching the men. A twinge of jealousy flared. He tried his best to ignore it but couldn’t. His past wouldn’t allow it. “What do ye think of them?” he asked, flinching at his own bluntness.
“I think they could pass for brothers,” she said, oblivious to his jealousy. “Blonde. Same height and muscular build. I didn’t notice the color of their eyes, but the shape of their faces even favor each other. Angular jaws. Both looked to have had their noses broken at some point in time. Last names are different though, yes?”
Her detached observations quelled the tightness in his chest. She sounded like Mrs. Dingwall inventorying the larder. “Aye. Cousins. Mine as well.”
“Really?” She pondered the news with a dubious look, her gaze sweeping him from top to bottom. “Then they are the light to your dark. Interesting.”
He halted at the base of the steps and tried to help her manage them. She seemed to be having trouble with her skirts. He caught her as she tripped and nearly tumbled forward. “Did the seamstress not hem yer gown properly?”
She made a face as she regained her balance after a second stumble. “Yes, she hemmed it properly. It’s not the gown’s fault. I’m just not used it, and going up steps is a lot trickier than coming down.” After a perturbed jerk at the generous folds, she added, “Have you already forgotten what I wore the day I found you?”
“Nay, m’love,” he said, then swept her up into his arms and carried her before she fell and did herself harm. “Trust me when I say I shall never forget ye in those trews.”
As he pushed through the doors, she went silent, clinging to him like a frightened child. Her gaze darted all around the large gathering room, lighting on the servants as they passed out tankards to the many men and women already gathered. When his people noticed he had crossed the threshold with his bride in his arms, they cheered.
While he basked in their well wishes, he couldn’t help but notice Evie’s distress. The poor lass tensed and pulled herself higher in his arms. At this rate, she’d soon perch on his shoulders.
“I thought this was a small clan,” she whispered as he gently peeled her free and set her on her feet.
He tucked her hand back into the crook of his arm. “It is. Not nearly the size of Clan Ross, but we are one of the largest septs.” With a smile at those who parted and made a path for them through the long room, he continued, “But we are a wealthy clan. Well landed. Powerful. Coffers full.” He patted her hand. “Ye should be filled with pride over all that is set before ye.”
“Oh, I am filled all right,” she whispered as though speaking to herself. She managed a weak smile as she turned and seated herself beside him at the head table. “Filled with the urge to run.”
He kissed her hand, then held it tight. “Ye have nothing to fear, dear one. I promise ye.” From the chief’s table on the long dais, they could look upon all in the room. “All these folk know ye as the lady of the keep. None will harm ye.”
She gave him a sideways glance and a doubtful arch of a brow. “I hope that’s true.”
A servant came and filled their glasses. He lifted his. “I raise my glass to the woman who saved my life and granted me the honor of giving me hers.”
Evie picked up her goblet, touched it to his, then sipped. After pondering him for what seemed like a long while, she lifted her glass. “To the future.”
Her words gave him hope. He clinked his glass to hers. “Toourfuture,” he corrected.
*
Evie forced herselfto drink the wine even though she never much cared for the stuff. Another panic attack, here in front of everyone, simply would not do. With every swallow, it became more tolerable. She just wished it would hurry and kick in.
As she gave in to her habit of nervous twitching, the sparkle of the emerald ring caught her eye. His mother’s ring. He said he hadn’t given it to his first wife. In fact, every word he had said at the altar came back to her, replaying in a continuous loop that made her heart beat faster. No man had ever spoken to her like that before, nor held her captive within the storm of emotions thundering in his gaze. Thoughts of what was to come later this evening made her drain the goblet and hold it up for a refill.
