Will these be enough?
As the night wore on,Sophie tossed and turned in her bed, unable to find peace. Her mind raced with doubts and fears, with memories of Kenneth's cold words and fleeting moments of tenderness. She loved him, of that she was certain. But could he love her back?
When dawn finally broke,Sophie rose from her restless bed, her decision made. She would go through with the wedding, would bind herself to Kenneth and to Clan MacAdams. Not for politics, but for the chance at something more. For the hopethat, with time and patience, she might be able to break through Kenneth's walls and find the man she believed him to be.
It was a risk,she knew. One that might end in heartbreak and regret. But she felt strong enough to face whatever the future held, be it love or heartbreak.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kenneth stood at the edge of the clearing, his keen eyes surveying the flurry of activity before him. The sun had barely crested the horizon, yet the air was already alive with the sounds of preparation. Servants scurried about, arranging wooden benches in neat rows and draping them with fresh heather and wildflowers. The sweet scent of blooms mingled with the earthy aroma of the surrounding forest, creating a heady perfume that did little to calm Kenneth's nerves.
He tuggedat the collar of his formal kilt, feeling uncharacteristically constrained. This was not how he had imagined his wedding day. In truth, he had never imagined it at all, having long ago resigned himself to a life of solitude in service to his clan. But now, with Sophie set to become his bride in mere hours, he found himself grappling with a maelstrom of emotions he was ill-equipped to handle.
"Everythin'to yer likin', me laird?" Lachlan's voice cut through his reverie.
Kenneth grunted,his eyes still fixed on the scene before him. "It'll do," he said gruffly, though in truth, the setting was more beautiful than he had dared to hope.
Lachlan chuckled,seemingly immune to his laird's brusque manner. "Aye, it'll do nicely. The lass will be pleased, I think."
At the mention of Sophie,Kenneth felt a familiar tightness in his chest. Would she be pleased? Or would she look upon this day with the same resignation he had seen in her eyes when he had announced their impending marriage?
"Has she..."Kenneth paused, clearing his throat. "Has the bride been informed of the arrangements?"
Lachlan's eyebrow quirked upward,a knowing smile playing at his lips. "Aye, Lady Arabella and Mistress Colette are with her now. They'll see she's ready in time."
Kenneth nodded,trying to ignore the way his heart quickened at the thought of Sophie preparing for their wedding. He had avoided her these past days, telling himself it was for the best. That maintaining distance would make it easier for both of them to face this marriage of convenience. But now, with the moment of their union fast approaching, he found himself longing for even a glimpse of her face.
"Me laird,"Lachlan said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, "if ye daenae mind me saying... it's nae too late, ye ken."
Kenneth's head snapped around,his eyes narrowing. "Nae too late for what?"
Lachlan met his gaze steadily."To tell the lass how ye feel. To make this more than just a political alliance."
"There's nothing to tell,"he growled. "This marriage is about duty, nothing more. See to it that everything is ready on time."
With that,he strode away, leaving Lachlan shaking his head in exasperation. Kenneth made his way to the small tent that had been erected for him to prepare, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions.
As he donnedhis formal attire, each piece a symbol of his clan and his position as laird, Kenneth tried to steel himself for what lay ahead. He would be a good husband to Sophie, he vowed silently. He would protect her, provide for her, ensure her comfort and safety. But he could not, would not, allow himself to love her.
I cannae affordto love her…
And yet,as he emerged from the tent and took his place beneath the flower-draped arch where they would speak their vows, Kenneth couldn't quite quell the flutter of anticipation in his gut. Despite his best efforts, a part of him longed to see Sophie, to hold her hand in his and claim her as his wife before all their people.
The soft strainsof music filled the air, and a hush fell over the gathered crowd. Kenneth's breath caught in his throat as he turned and saw Sophie for the first time.
Kenneth's breathcaught in his throat as he beheld Sophie, a vision in white that made his heart race and his blood run hot. Her gown, adorned with delicate lace and tiny pearls, clung to her curves in a way that made his fingers itch to trace every contour. The morning sunlight caught the golden highlights in her hair, crowned with wildflowers, making her appear almost ethereal.
His gaze traveled hungrilyover her form, drinking in every detail. The soft swell of her breasts above the neckline of her gown, the graceful curve of her neck, the enticing flush that painted her cheeks a becoming pink. Kenneth felt a primal surge of desire, his body responding to her beauty in a way that both thrilled and alarmed him.
But it washer eyes that truly captivated him, wide and luminous, filled with a mixture of nervousness and something else – something that made his pulse quicken and his mouth go dry. He dared not name the emotion he saw there, for fear of acknowledging the answering feeling in his own heart.
As Sophie drew near,Kenneth fought to maintain his composure, even as every fiber of his being yearned to pull her close, to claim her lips in a kiss that would leave no doubt as to the passion that simmered between them. The scent of her – a heady mix of wildflowers and something uniquely Sophie – enveloped him, threatening to undo his carefully maintainedcontrol. Without conscious thought, he reached out his hand to her, his calloused fingers enveloping her smaller, softer ones.
"Ye look beautiful,"he murmured, the words escaping before he could stop them.
Sophie's eyeswidened in surprise, and for a moment, Kenneth saw a flicker of hope in their depths. But then her expression smoothed, and she offered him a small, polite smile. "Thank ye, me laird," she replied softly.
The ceremony began,the words of the officiant washing over Kenneth in a blur. He was acutely aware of Sophie's hand in his, of the warmth of her body so close to his own. When the time came to speak their vows, he was surprised to find his voice steady and sure.
