A knock on the door sounded. Evie hurried to it and cracked it open. Malcolm’s muffled voice was on the other side.
“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” Evie stated, clearly.
“Oh, let him in, Evie. It’s not like we believe in that superstition anyway,” Chloe said, exasperated.
Evie cut her a glance over her shoulder and pretended to frown, but then pushed open the door to let him inside.
“You have two minutes and that’s all,” Evie said, her voice stern as she marched out and closed the door behind her.
Malcolm stood before her in his finery. He wore a crisp white tunic underneath his MacLeod belted tartan. It was draped and fastened on the shoulder with a silver brooch. He wore black breeches, polished, if well-worn, leather boots, his sporran, and a wool cloak. His cheeks and chin still sported that three-day growth of beard she loved.
He gaped at her as she stood before him in her gorgeous gown. She shifted from one foot to the other, a sudden awkwardness coming over her.
“Well? Do I pass inspection?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.
“I’ve no seen a bonnier lass then ye, love.”
She flushed hot at the compliment.
He reached for her. She placed her hand in his. He glanced down to see the bandage around her hand was gone. Turning it over, he traced the silvery scar that crossed it. The burn scar from the keystone was still there, but the scar from the cut likely would never go away.
“Yer hand is healed.”
“Yes,” she said. “It didn’t take long. I think it has something to do with the magic in the keystone.”
He lifted his gaze to hers. “And yer shoulder?”
“Still sore but better.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. “Good. I promise to take great care when I tup ye later.”
“Is that why you came here? To flirt with me?”
“I dinnae ken what ye mean by that, but nay. I dinnae come here for that. I came to give ye this.”
He reached into his sporran and placed a small object in her hand. It was an elegant circular brooch adorned with an intricate Celtic knotwork pattern. It was made of silver with the pin extending across the back of it to secure it to a heavy cloak or other garment. Embedded within the design on each side were two amber stones polished to a high shine, winking in the light of the room.
She stared at it for a long, quiet moment. She’d seen this brooch before.
In Mystic Treasures.
For a moment, she couldn’t breathe or think or move. She simply stared at it in complete and utter shock.
“I ken is no much. It belonged to my mother.”
“I love it. It’s beautiful,” she said. “Thank you.”
And it was perfect. She planned to wear it on her cloak when she walked down the aisle to be handfasted to Malcolm.
He smiled, well pleased. Seeing his smile warmed her heart and made her love him all the more.
Evie came back into the room, breaking into their moment.
“All right, you’ve been in here long enough. Time to get to the chapel.”
She hustled him out of the room before he made any objections. As he stepped through the door, he gave her one last look. One last smile. And then Evie closed the door and turned to her, hands on her hips.
“Since when did you become a mother hen?” Chloe demanded.
