“Anxious on yer weddin’ day? That’s normal, I’ve been told. More than normal. Gettin’ married is a big thing, a serious thing. But ye love Creighton, daenae ye?”
“Aye, God, aye. Of course I do. That’s never in doubt, I just…” Nora paused, tightening her grip on the flowers Helena had prepared for her. Fresh that morning, they smelled sweet and floral, a delicious aroma drifting up toward her. “I’m afraid that I willnae be the wife he deserves. I’m afraid that I’ll let him down…” trailing off, she shook her head. “I never imagined marriage. And certainly nae marrying a laird. As Lady MacColl, I’ll have responsibilities. For once, it’ll matter what I do.”
“I hate to break it to ye, Nora, but it’s always mattered what ye do,” Margaret sighed. “Ye are a healer. Ye are the difference between life and death all the time. Gettin’ married is almost, well,lessimportant.”
Nora elbowed her. “Ye are just jealous. Or perhaps ye have weddin’ bells on yer own horizon?”
Margaret gave a quick, secret smile. “Never ye mind that. Now, do ye want me to walk ye down to the altar, or will ye walk yerself?”
“Meself, I think.”
Margaret nodded. “Very well. I’ll go in, and I’ll see ye soon.”
With a final smile and a hug, Margaret slipped away, tiptoeing into the chapel. That left Nora alone, standing before the closed doors. For a moment, she closed her eyes, listening to the joyful buzz behind the doors. She thought about Laurie, excited to finally match her gown. She thought about Helena and Hunter, sitting eagerly in the pew. She thought about Evander, who had traveled all this way with his strange not-betrothed.
She thought of Creighton, waiting for her, and her heart quickened a few beats.
Who would have thought that it would end like this?
Breathing out slowly, Nora opened her eyes. She strode toward the doors and pushed them open. They swung wide, and every pair of eyes in the place turned to face her. She stood where she was for a long moment, letting her gaze skim over them.
Everybody she had expected to see was here. Evander craned his neck from somewhere in the middle and gave her a quick smile. He sat beside Marcus, who Nora knew was just relieved that Creighton was finally marrying. Theo smiled a little more genuinely. Andrew sat beside him, with Margaret beside him.
Nora began to walk up the aisle, taking in the faces. There was Laurie, kneeling on the pew facing backward, grinning like a cat that had just made off with a whole trout. There were Helena and Hunter.
Me new family,Nora realized, her chest tightening.
All of the faces turned her way paled into nothing when she met Creighton’s eyes.
He watched her approach, unblinkingly, eyes dark and heavy. An answering hunger tugged at the pit of Nora’s gut.
Later,she chided herself, almost imperceptibly increasing her pace.
The distance between them melted into nothing. Creighton watched her, never letting his eyes move from her for a minute, until she stepped up beside him.
“Ye are late,” he murmured, barely louder than a whisper.
Nora grinned. “It’s a bride’s prerogative. Did ye think I’d changed me mind? Or been kidnapped by a rival laird?”
He gave a low growl. “Kidnapped by a rival laird? Lass, if that happened, I’d tear out his lungs through his mouth.”
“That’s probably why nay rival laird would risk kidnappin’ me, then.”
Wordlessly, Creighton extended his hand. Nora placed hers in it, and long, warm fingers closed over her knuckles.
The priest began to speak, reciting the familiar wedding sermon that everyone in the room had heard at least once before. Nora barely paid attention. Listening too closely would mean taking her eyes off Creighton, and she was not about to do that. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and warmth flowed through her veins.
“I do,” she answered aloud when the priest requested it.
“I do,” Creighton responded, his voice deep and level. Another shiver rolled down her spine.
“I now pronounce ye to be man and wife,” the priest stated, with obvious pleasure. “Ye may kiss the bride.”
Nora and Creighton turned to each other, and he lifted an eyebrow.
“Would ye mind if I kissed ye in front of all these people?” he murmured teasingly, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to him.
Nora gave a snort, looping her arms around his neck.
“Would Imind? I would be more upset if ye didnae kiss me,” she countered. “So go on, then. Kiss me.”
He did, leaning forward and fitting warm lips against hers. The world melted away, and for a delightful half-minute, everythingnarrowed down to the two of them. Creighton pulled back, their lips a bare half-inch apart.
“I am goin’ to spend the rest of me life smellin’ herbs,” he mumbled. “I can smell them in yer hair, on her clothes, on yer skin. Everywhere.”
“And is that a bad thing?”
He chuckled, his breath warm against her mouth. “Oh, it’s a good thing. A very, very good thing.”
The End?
