She leaned in to kiss him. A soft, sweet kiss in full view of any of the inn’s patrons who might have been watching, and Lucian figured that would be about everyone.
When a great cheer went up, shaking the rafters, he knew they’d all been straining their ears as well.
He didn’t care.
He did think he caught her say that she loved him, but the din of shouted well-wishes, stomping feet, and the slapping of hands on the tables, drowned out the words.
No matter.
As far as he was concerned, she’d said them. And he’d prove to her how much she meant to him later, after their Scottish Night, when they went abovestairs to their room.
Just now, he opened the inn’s rear door and took her with him outside into the cold and windy night, leaving the warmth of the One-Eyed Hare’s taproom for the small but no less impressive circle of standing stones that Dod Swanney used as the ‘chapel’ for his marriage ceremonies.
Modest as the stone circle was, all things considered, it also dated back into the true mists of time, and, as such, had surely been used in the same way at one point or other in Scotland’s long history.
Dod Swanney figured so, anyway.
Lucian agreed.
Above all, he appreciated the endless stretch of the rolling moorland and hills that opened up at the back of the stones. On occasion, during stays at the Hare, he would’ve sworn he could stand inside the circle and see clear to Lyongate.
That wasn’t so, he knew.
But that it seemed possible was something he credited to stone’s magic. Just as he supposed a similarly ancient power caused the heavens to appear so near. The impression was strong, the glittering stretch of stars seeming close enough for a soul to reach out and grab great, greedy handfuls.
He’d tried to do so as a wee lad when his father once brought him here for a night’s stay on a journey to York. Of course, he hadn’t been able to snatch a single star, but he had made memories, and he’d loved the Hare ever since.
The place had magic.
And it still did if the look of wonder on Melissa’s face said anything.
She stood with one hand holding her hair against the wind and her eyes rounded as she glanced about, taking in everything from the tall, bent, and age-pitted stones, to Dod in his kilt-and-cloak in the circle’s center. She then looked out at the rolling moors and the light mist that curled across the heather and rocks there.
Tipping back her head, she lifted her gaze to the dazzle of the Scottish night sky, so black and velvety, yet alight with more stars than anywhere else he’d ever been, or could imagine.
One of the inn’s serving girls and Dod’s own wife, Annie, also waited within the circle of stones.
The women were to witness their declaration of marital intent. And so, it seemed, did the whole of the inn, patron and staff alike. They were all filing out the Hare’s rear door, gathering round to watch him make Miss Melissa Tandy of Cheltenham in England, his lady wife, the new mistress of Lyongate Hall.
~*~
“He looks like a wizard.”
Sure of it, Melissa gripped Lucian’s arm as they stood at the edge of the stone circle. The stones glittered and glimmered in the starlight and just enough equally luminous mist rolled across the ground to lend a truly enchanted touch to the ancient site.
But it was Dod Swanney, the innkeeper, who startled her most.
For an eye-blink, she’d have sworn his kilt and cloak shone silver like the circle’s stones, and – she gulped – that his eyes did, as well.
Lucian slid an arm around her, drawing her close.
“He is no’ sorcerer, sweeting.” He spoke above her ear, his voice soft and low so that no one else would hear. “If anything, Dod is a man who honors the past. The old ones valued this place and held sacred rites here. He finds it a fitting spot to marry those who agree.”
“And you do?”
“I wouldn’t be a Highlander if I didn’t.” He kissed her cheek and straightened. “This is the Scotland I wanted you to see first on crossing the border.” He gestured to the shimmering stones, the wild moorland and great hills, and then looked up at the starry heavens. “No’ that far from your fair and manicured England, but a different world entirely.”
“It truly is.” She shivered, but in a good way. “I do believe there is magic here.”
