"I can handle myself," she said, though the memory of the shared kiss was at the forefront of her mind. She was not in danger of being influenced by him, but by the desire she couldn't quite fathom. "I'm not afraid of him, Papa."
"If I truly thought he posed a threat to you, I would have run him off the moment he proposed," he said without a hint of humor. "His customs may differ from ours, but I think he's a good man beneath it all."
"I think so too," she said as he helped her into the carriage. "Better than I could have imagined him to be, considering he was only interested in my dowry at first."
Her father allowed himself a rare, genuine smile before joining her. As they set off, the wooden wheels thunked against the cobbled road, and the two remained silent. A heaviness settled between them—not like the day of her mother's funeral, but something else… an unspoken acknowledgement that everything was about to change.
The ride was short, and not another word was uttered between them. When they came to a stop in front of the church, her fathergave her one last lingering look. She did the same, memorizing his face, not knowing when she'd see him again.
"It's nearly time," he said, though he sounded reluctant. "Time for my girl to be her own person."
He got out skillfully before her, offering her his hand. She took it, allowing herself to be transferred easily to the ground. As they moved toward the entrance, she didn't let go of her father. All at once, she felt both the oldest she had ever been and like a little girl clinging to her parent for comfort.
I didn't think it would be so scary. It's just a ceremony, nothing more.
Still, nerves gripped her as she stepped inside. The gathering of people was small. The pews were barely filled. Anna was almost surprised to spot Martha and her parents among the attendees. It was a small balm to her spirit. Though the letter that started all of this had been a farce, it seemed as though she'd still made a genuine friend from the ordeal.
Then, her eyes trailed up the aisle to the pulpit. Standing there, wearing a kilt and a new doublet, looking more put together than she'd seen him since he arrived, was Hugh. He may have looked a bit out of place, but Anna imagined she did too. Her traitorous mind suggested that they might be the perfect match for one another.
Slowly, with everyone's eyes on her, she approached him, her father leading the way down the aisle. He shifted her hand tohis elbow and held his head up high as they moved. For the first time, she didn't feel as if the gazes on her were judgmental. It was a kind of acceptance that she didn't realize she had.
Hugh looked her over unapologetically. His eyes lingered on the curve of her hip and the swell of her breasts before finally landing on her face. There was a fire there, coupled with something else she couldn't quite name.
Is he going to continue looking at me like that even when we get to the Highlands? Like I'm the only woman that exists?
"Ye look bonnier every time I see ye," Hugh whispered, just low enough for Anna to hear, not minding the priest's presence just next to them.
A deep blush overtook Anna, nearly warm enough to make her sweat. Before she was able to find her voice, the officiant cleared his throat, calling the church to attention. Now that she was in attendance, the ceremony would proceed.
As the priest spoke, she tried to listen to each word from his mouth. It was nearly impossible, though. Hugh's eyes bore into her; the entirety of the church was watching. It seemed as though all she could do was stand tall and hold back the flood of emotions that bubbled just beneath the surface.
Hugh reached forward, grabbing her hands. The contact anchored her, quieting her mind and putting her right back into the present. It was just enough for her to catch the priest's last words.
"You may kiss your bride."
Without hesitation, Hugh pulled her against his body. For a brief moment, their lips pressed together. It was chaste and entirely appropriate for the audience. Still, she found that she missed the kiss from the engagement party. She'd almost been expecting another just like it.
As soon as the two were outside the church, Hugh's shoulders relaxed a bit. The ceremony was unlike the handfasting of Scotland. There was scripture, a focus on the Lord rather than on the two people being joined. His mother and sister spoke so much of marriage for love that having a ceremony devoid of it felt incorrect.
It was obvious that this was simply a matter of different customs. The English married for power and land accumulation more often than Highlanders. It probably was more common to marry without love than with it here.
Beside him, Anna let out a long breath that dissolved into a light, disbelieving giggle. It was a sweet sound, almost musical. Hugh couldn't help but smile at her joy and relief.
"Ach, I ken what ye mean," Hugh agreed, tightening his hold on her. "Like a burden's bein' lifted, aye?"
She smiled up at him, saying, "I didn't even realize there was a burden, but I feel lighter. So much lighter."
"It looks bonnie on ye," he said as he led her to the carriage that awaited him. As soon as they were inside the enclosure, he said, "Now, we will go back to yer house, and once ye pack, we will start our journey to me castle."
Her posture straightened, and the smile dropped. It seemed as though he'd shattered the bit of happiness she'd gleaned. As she looked down at her hands, she spoke, her brow furrowed, "We cannot stay for lunch with my father?"
"Nay," Hugh said, seeing the way his outright refusal landed. It couldn't be helped, though. He'd already spent too long in England. "We have our people to attend to. They've been without their Laird the entire time I've been with ye."
Anna pouted, meeting his eyes. Then her face grew harder, a picture of controlled will. It was something he knew she possessed, considering the letter she'd sent, but he'd never seen it like this.
"I do not know when I will see him again," she said, choosing each word carefully. "The people of Clan McDonald will likely demand a fair bit of attention when we get back. I do not think it is an unrealistic expectation that we will not be in a position to host visitors or send me back to visit anytime soon."
Smart sassenach. I cannae say she doesnae have a strategic mind. There is nae much I can say to argue.
