She walked to him.
She was aware of the hall—the crowd, the candles, the weight of it all. And none of it really mattered because he was looking at her like that, and she was looking back at him; everything else was just surroundings.
“Ye came,” he said, low enough that only she could hear.
“I said I would.”
“Ye did.” His eyes moved over her, the gown, the tartan sash, and came back to her face. “Ye’re wearin’ the colours.”
“It seemed appropriate.”
“Aye.” Something moved in his expression. “It does.”
The elder, gray-haired and broad, with the unhurried gravity of someone who has led many such moments and understands their importance, stepped forward, and the hall went quiet.
“We gather today,” he said, his voice carrying easily through the stone room. “In witness of the joinin’ of Noah MacGregor, Laird of this clan, and Ava Harris, before this clan and before God.”
He looked between them.
“The handfastin’ is a bindin’ of two people in partnership, nae one above the other, but side by side. It is the willin’ choiceof two free people to stand together, in witness of all who love them.”
He produced the cord.
It was the MacGregor tartan, twisted with a white thread, the length of it wound between his hands. He looked at Ava first.
“Give me yer right hand.”
She gave it. He placed it palm-up, and she felt the cord settle across her wrist, soft, lighter than she’d expected.
“And yer left,” he said to Noah.
Noah placed his left wrist against hers.
The elder wound the cord around them both. Once, twice, three times. Crossing it between their joined hands, and tying it with a slow, deliberate knot that Ava felt rather than saw.
“Do ye, Ava Harris,” the elder said, “Take this man as yer partner? To stand beside him, to speak plainly with him, to hold his counsel and give him yers, in the full knowledge of who he is and who ye are?”
She looked at Noah.
“Aye,” she said. “I do.”
“And do ye, Noah MacGregor, take this woman as yer partner? To stand beside her, to speak plainly with her, to hold her counsel and give her yers, in the full knowledge of who she is and who ye are?”
Noah looked at her. The hall was entirely quiet.
“Aye,” he said. “I do.”
“Then by the joinin’ of yer hands and the bindin’ of this cord, in witness of yer clan and before God, I declare ye handfasted.” The elder placed both his hands over theirs. “Let what is bound here hold.”
The hall erupted, with the full-throated sound of a clan that had decided it approved of something and was expressing this without reservation. Esther was in the front row beside Elliot, who was clapping with considerably more enthusiasm than a man of his composure usually allowed himself. Esther was not clapping. She was watching Ava with an expression that was simply, quietly, satisfied.
Ava startled slightly at the volume of it, and Noah’s mouth curved.
“Surprised?” he said.
“A little.”
“They like ye,” he said. “They’ve liked ye for a long time. Ye just werenae payin’ attention.”
