He was going to be laird! They agreed that he should be laird!
Bridget squeezed his hand, and he smiled down at her, a lightness in his chest now appearing that hadn’t been there before.
“Thank ye,” he said to the room.
“There is the matter,” the elder continued, catching Irvine’s attention once more, “of yer uncle and his warriors. We are making good use of the dungeons right now, but there must be a trial, a reckoning of wot he did tae not only the farm but tae the innocent people that lost their lives in his wake.”
“With all due respect,” Irvine said after a moment, “I would like tae think on wot tae do with them.” They were still part of the clan, and his great-uncle was still family no matter his sins. While he knew that they should be tried for their sins, he wanted to pick a fitting punishment.
After all, killing him wasn’t going to bring those that lost their lives back.
“Granted,” the elder stated, rising. “We will have the ceremony at dawn then.”
And so, they did. Irvine walked out just as the first rays of the dawn were streaking across the sky, flanked by his father and his mother. The elders waited at the top of the hill for him, with a large crowd gathered to watch the new laird be crowned.
Bridget was also there, a small smile on her face as he passed, and Irvine returned it, feeling the love and affection he had for the lass who had stolen his heart.
Malcolm was also waiting for him, inclining his head as Irvine reached the elders. “’Tis a glorious day indeed,” the elder called out, holding up his hands. “Tae witness Irvine McMillan become Laird McPearson.”
The crowd cheered but then quieted as the elder started the ceremony, making Irvine repeat his loyalty to his clan, to God, and to himself most of all, that he wouldn’t use the clan for his own gains or ever forget that everything he did was for the good of the clan and not himself.
Soon the battered gold crown that had been passed down for generations was placed on his head, and the elder finished his final words. “Do ye accept this laird as yer own?” the elder stated, addressing the crowd.
“Aye!” the crowd called out, clapping and shouting.
“Rise, Laird McPearson,” he boomed, smiling. “And greet yer subjects.”
Irvine did just that, and the clan cheered as the sun started to rise in the sky, signaling a new reign for the clan.
He was now their leader.
“I will protect ye with mah life,” he told them once they quieted. “I will give mah blood for yers, my soul if it means tae protect the future.”
He meant every word.
22
It was her wedding day.
Bridget drew in a breath as she walked down the stairs, finding her father waiting for her at the bottom. “Ye look lovely, lass,” he said as he proffered his arm.
She took it. “Thank ye.” She felt like her life was finally coming together, that she was about to be the happiest woman in all of Scotland.
Perhaps she already was.
The hall was decorated in greenery that somehow had been found amongst the snow, the blue ribbons a sign of luck for their wedding day woven amongst the leaves. There was a crowd gathered, nearly the entire clan, with a few of the tenants from the farm in attendance, and Bridget’s heart softened at their presence. They had come in support of her and of the alliance that was going to be between the clan and the farm.
Her heart was nearly bursting.
Lifting her head, she spied Irvine standing near the elder that would wed them, his eyes only for her. He was dressed in a wedding kilt, the same colors that she had draped over one shoulder. After this wedding was complete, she would wear the McPearson colors, and though before she would have detested the thought, now it filled her heart with gladness.
She would be their lady after today, and Bridget couldn’t help but already love the clansmen and women that she had come across. They didn’t see her as anything but one of them, and while she knew it would take her father longer to accept them, it was a step in the right direction.
When Bridget finally reached Irvine, he gave her a smile. “Are ye certain ye wish tae still do this?” he murmured as they turned to the elder.
“There’s nothing I want more,” she answered, lifting her chin.
His eyes held the promise of later as the elder started with his words, having Irvine say his vows to her first.
