Having put ink to parchment made everything seem so very real. A shiver skittered over Emily’s tense shoulders. Was shereallyabout to marry Gregor?
“Are you chilly, my dear?” Isobell asked “Would you like me to fetch a wrap?”
“I’m fine.” Emily shot her hostess a quick smile. A smile she didn’t feel.
It wasn’t too late. If she left before they said their vows—
Her head throbbed. She rubbed her temples, trying to remember what she’d been thinking. Movement caught her attention.
Munn skulked along the hallway toward them, mumblingunder his breath. When he noticed them standing there, he jerked to a halt, his lips thinned and his forehead wrinkled into thick creases, as though her presence caused him great consternation. He made an abrupt turnabout and disappeared in a blur of brown and green fabric.
Emily shook her head. Such a strange little man.
She peered into the empty chapel. Even at this mid-morning hour, candles lit the room. A door to the side of the cloth-covered altar opened. The priest entered, knelt before the altar, made the sign of the cross, stood, and faced the same door of which he had entered. The door was a private entry to the chapel from the chief’s study where the men had remained after the signing to discuss pressing clan business while she and Isobell had withdrawn to the passageway to wait. Gregor appeared in the doorway next. Followed by Archie and Tevin. All three dressed in light colored tunics and draped in plaid cloth of the same blue, red, and black. Golden light from the candles flickered and flashed, causing their shadows to dance upon gilded walls and furnishings.
Emily’s insides quivered. She wet her lips. Pinched her cheeks.She could do this. She could.
Gregor’s dark gaze circled the room, landing on her. His pleased smile helped quell the riot of nerves bent on keeping her immobile.
The light pressure from Isobell’s palm against the small of her back encouraged her to proceed. Emily swallowed, summoned inner strength, and stepped across the threshold.
Her husband-to-be strode forward and grasped her hand. “Your beauty leaves me breathless.”
A thrilled gasp of surprise escaped her lips. The smile she leveled on him came from the heart. “You are quite handsome yourself this morning.”
His grin took her breath away. Made her realize there was nowhere else she’d rather be this morning than here with Gregor.
“Thank you for agreeing to become my wife.” He gently squeezed her hand, bowed, and brushed a kiss across the tipsof her fingers.
An electric tingle hummed up her arm. Lit up her nervous system. Made her heart lurch.
His eyes widened. He must have felt a similar sensation.
What should she say?
He obviously didn’t expect a reply for he guided her toward the altar.
The priest greeted them with a nod then looked beyond them to the few who came to witness their union. "Are there any among you with reason this couple should not wed?"
There was a shuffle of feet behind them and a soft cough, but no one spoke up against their marriage. Emily released the breath she held.
“Please kneel.” The priest indicated two embroidered velvet pillows that had been placed on the stone floor before the altar.
Gregor assisted her to her knees. He knelt beside her, keeping possession of her hand and interlacing their fingers. His warmth soothed the flutter in her stomach.
The priest turned to the altar and held up a narrow, hemmed length of cloth made from the same plaid the men wore. He bowed in prayer then turned back to them and tied the cloth around the wrists of their entwined hands. “This cloth binds your love together.”
Emily flicked a glance at Gregor. He gave a quick nod, and she returned attention to the priest. The priest’s words seeded hope in her heart. She and Gregor would find love together. Perhaps he was the reason the pixies brought her to the past.
The service flashed by in an instant. It was time for the reciting of vows.
The priest bade them to stand and removed the fabric that had bound them together. She knew what was coming next. She hated that she didn’t have a ring for Gregor. He assisted her to her feet and remained facing her, the silver ring he held glittered in the candlelight. His gaze softened. “With this ring—”
The crash from the back of the chapel, as the heavy door slammed against the stone wall, made Emily jump and swing around to see what caused the commotion.
“One moment, please.” A handsome fiftyish man with graying hair covered with the dust of travel strode into the chapel. With an abrupt nod to the priest, he genuflected before the altar, then dragged Gregor into a bear of a hug. After several backslaps on both sides, the man bowed to Emily. “Mistress.”
With a wrinkled brow, she watched him step away into the small group at the back of the chapel. Who on earth?
