All of the local and many of the distant Rivenloch clan attended the wedding.
Adam’s sister Feiyan brought her new bairn all the way from Darragh.She recognized Eve as the nun from the convent, but couldn’t believe she was also the archer from the tournament.
Adam’s cousin Jenefer couldn’t tell Eve was the same person as the French lad she’d shot against at Perth.
His other cousin Hallie thought Feiyan and Jenefer were fools to mistake lovely Eve for a male archer, but she didn’t remember her as the nun who’d been at Perth.
It still confounded Adam how his clan could be so gulled by someone he considered uniquely beautiful.But Eve was grateful that, for him, she was never invisible.
Isabel, the romantic young lass Eve had met before, delighted in showing off the decorations she’d arranged.Beeswax candles lit up every corner.Fragrant herbs were strewn atop the rushes on the floor.Swags of holly and ivy decked the walls.Even the hounds wore sprigs of holly on their collars.
Isabel’s clever brother Ian had devised a special final dish in honor of the newlyweds.It was a sugar subtletie sculpted in the form of a castle that he claimed was—just like Adam and Eve—“not all it appeared to be.”When he gave Eve a tiny silver axe to crack the delicate exterior, the sugar castle broke apart, revealing a golden dragon made of almond paste and dyed with saffron.
Everyone cheered.No one was more impressed than Eve.
The Rivenloch warriors—male and female—were anything but shy.They regaled each other with tales of adventure and full-throated boasts, each one more improbable than the next.
The hounds barked in excitement over the smells of roasting meat and slavered at the sight of stripped bones that would soon be theirs.
The musicians played over the conversations, plucking a lute, blowing a sackbut, beating a tabor, and finally resorting to the raucous bagpipes in order to be heard.
Now the feast was nearly over.The trestle tables in the great hall looked like a battlefield.Bones littered the trenchers.Splatters of red wine and brown sauce stained the tablecloth.Knives were tossed carelessly onto the platters.Finally, after hours of course after course, the white linen napkins had been thrown down like banners of surrender.
But Eve felt uneasy.There was one thing more to come.And she dreaded it.
From Adam’s cousins, she knew all about the traditions the Rivenlochs had carried down from their Viking ancestors.Training women for battle.Using longboats as funeral pyres.Bathing every day.Telling stories about gods and goddesses, fantastic beasts and mythical hammers.Young Ian had spoken eagerly about the sunwheel he was building to roll down the hill in celebration of Yule.
According to wedding custom, the ladies always undressed the bride for bed.The men carried the groom up to her and put him in bed with her.Then they waited outside for proof of the consummation—bloody linens.
The last thing Eve wanted to do was disappoint her new clan by refusing one of their traditional rituals.But it seemed barbaric.Humiliating.And, unfortunately, too revealing of the truth.
Adam seemed to sense her disquiet.
“What’s wrong?”he murmured.
“Everyone knows I was raised in a convent,” she whispered back.
“Aye?”
She glanced involuntarily toward the steps leading to the bedchamber Isabel had shown her.The bedchamber that had been prepared with fresh linens decked with flower petals for the newly married couple.
“Mmm,” he said.“Are you worried about the wedding night rites?”
She winced in apology.“I don’t want to ruin anythin’.Your clan has been so kind to me.And I know how important tradition is to them.But the linens won’t be bloody, Adam.They’ll know I didn’t come to this marriage a virgin.”
Adam gave her a wise and sober nod.
But inside he was grinning.
He doubted many Rivenloch brides had come to their marriages as virgins.His clan wouldn’t dare demand anyone go through such archaic rites.As Laird Deirdre had long ago decreed, such traditions were an abomination, an insult to women, and the ruin of perfectly good linens.
His clanwould,however, mercilessly harass the newlyweds.And he didn’t want to give them the pleasure.Not on his wedding night.Not when his bride sat beside him, looking up at him with dewy apprehension in her eyes.
He wanted her all to himself.
“Damn tradition,” he told her.“I have an idea.”
Adam figured it would be the clan’s own fault if they let the bride and groom out of their sight and they happened to disappear.
