Everything hinges on this moment. How Elijah treats me, how his people accept me, and whether this marriage has any hope of bein’ more than a business arrangement.
The horn sounded again, more insistent this time.
“Ready, me lady?”
Iris squared her shoulders. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Icannae do this.”
The words escaped Iris in a breathless whisper as she stood at the entrance to the great hall. What she’d expected was family, close retainers, maybe a few important clan members— perhaps fifty people. What she faced was easily three times that number.
The massive hall was packed wall to wall with McMurphy clan members, all turned toward the doorway where she stood frozen like a deer caught by hunters. Tables groaned under the weight of roasted meats, fresh bread, wheels of cheese, and what looked like enough ale to float a ship. Torches blazed in iron sconces, casting dancing shadows on ancient tapestries that depicted Highland battles and clan victories. Musicians sat in one corner with pipes, drums, and fiddles at the ready.
And every single person was staring at her.
I cannae do this.
The conviction hit the pit of her stomach a second time. She’d never been trained for this, never been taught how to address a clan, how to hold herself as a lady, or what words to say at a celebration in her honor.
Her parents had made it abundantly clear that she wasn’t good enough for a laird and that any marriage prospects would be to minor sons or merchants. They’d focused all their attention on preparing Lydia to be the perfect Highland wife.
Her chest tightened, her breathing growing shallow, and the faces in the crowd began to blur together—curious, expectant. They were waiting for her to say something, do something, be something she’d never been taught to be.
“I cannae do this,” she whispered again, taking a step backward.
A strong arm slipped around her waist, warm and steadying. “Easy, lass.”
Elijah appeared at her side, as if from nowhere, dressed in full Highland regalia. His clan colors draped over a crisp white shirt, his kilt perfectly pleated, a silver brooch gleaming at his shoulder. He looked every inch the Highland Laird—powerful and commanding.
“I daenae ken what to do,” she whispered desperately, her voice so low only he could hear. “I was never taught. Me parents never taught me.”
“Ye keep walkin’,” he said quietly, his arm tightening around her waist. “Ye smile at yer people, ye let them see their new lady, and ye daenae keep them waitin’. It isnae right.”
“But what if I panic?”
“Ye can panic later.” His voice was gentle but firm. “Right now, yer clan needs ye.”
Yer clan.
Not his clan, not the McMurphy clan but her clan. The simple words did something strange to her chest, made her stand a little straighter.
“What do I say to them?”
“Nothin’ yet. Just walk with me, let them see ye, smile if ye can manage it.” His hand pressed against the small of her back, steady and warm. “I’ll handle the rest for now.”
The strange thing was, she believed him. And she felt safe with him, protected. As long as he was beside her, nothing could go truly wrong.
This should terrify me more than the crowd.
But it didn’t. Instead, it gave her the courage to lift her chin, straighten her shoulders, and take that first step into the hall.
The moment they moved forward together, a cheer went up from the crowd. Not the polite applause Iris would have expected for a new lady. This was a genuine, lively Highland welcome that made the stone walls ring. Men raised their tankards, women smiled and nodded approvingly, and children pressed forward for a better look at their new lady.
“That’s it,” Elijah murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “Just like that.”
They moved through the crowd slowly with Elijah occasionally nodding to someone or acknowledging a greeting. He kept them moving toward the high table at the far end of the hall. Iris tried to smile at the faces they passed. Like the elderly woman who curtsied with obvious respect then a group of young men who grinned and called out good wishes and the children who stared with wide-eyed curiosity.
