“Aislinn Eleanor Campbell… formerly De Burgh.”
“Aye,” she murmured, Cameron still holding her hand and gently squeezing her fingers.
More scratching came and then the friar blew upon the ink; Aislinn jumped a moment later when he closed the book with a thud and rose from the table.
“Godspeed tae you both.”
“Aye, Godspeed,” echoed the priest with a last disapproving glance at her trousers.
She had feared at first he wouldn’t perform the ceremony because of her garb, though much of it was covered with her cloak, but Cameron had told him that they were travelers and had no other clothing for her to wear—aye, the truth.
Except for the delicate white nightgown embroidered with wildflowers, which Jeanne had pulled from a chest she was filling for Sorcha’s marriage one day, Aislinn’s eyes welling at her kindness.
“For your wedding night,” the woman had murmured, giving her a hug. “You’ll look so lovely for him.”
Now, Aislinn trembled anew as Jeanne’s words echoed in her mind, the priest and their one witness disappearing like wraiths through a side door.
For your wedding night…
Yet it wasn’t night yet, only midday, Cameron leading her into the narthex of the small stone church, where he swept her into his arms.
“I must kiss you.”
He did, Aislinn gasping at his embrace in a holy place, but cradling his face all the same and kissing him back.
“Our own blessing for this day,” Cameron whispered when he lifted his head, though still he nuzzled her ear. Then he seemed to shudder and he released her so abruptly that Aislinn gasped again, his fingers entwining with hers to lead her outside into what had become a balmy summer day.
The heavy clouds gone, no threat of rain. The air smelled sweet with wildflowers that made her think once more of the nightgown wrapped in a piece of linen and stuffed into a bag hanging from the saddle, Cameron’s horse tethered to a post.
Upon seeing them, the black stallion whinnied and bobbed his head as if congratulating them upon their marriage, which made Aislinn giggle.
Only to fall silent when she saw Cameron staring at her as if he couldn’t believe his ears. It dawned on her that he’d not heard her laugh much at all since they had met just over two tumultuous weeks ago—ah, God, how could so much have happened to them in so short a time? They were husband and wife now!
“Dinna stop,” he said to her, staring at her face, but the moment had passed. Yet that didn’t keep her from smiling at him with wonder, Cameron truly the most handsome man she had ever seen.
The light breeze stirring his hair as black as his stallion’s, the masculine beauty of his features holding her spellbound.
“We’re not yet at the inn tae look at me so, wife,” he said with a husky voice that thrilled her, though she felt a sudden rush of nervousness.
Cameron was a big man, so powerfully built, and while no one would think her petite, she still felt much smaller beside him. Was all of him so… so—
“There you go again,” he murmured, his hands encircling her waist to lift her up onto his horse. “Enough of that now, woman, or we’ll shame ourselves in the street.”
Aislinn blushed to her roots, not so much from what he had said, though she guessed well its meaning, but that she’d never before seen such a look upon his face.
Hungry. His expression tense, as if the very act of touching her had aroused something carnal within him.
She wasn’t so ignorant of what occurred between a man and a woman upon marriage—or otherwise!—to not know what lay ahead, but she was a virgin. If Cameron had been so sorely afflicted with shyness since boyhood, might she find him untried as well? Was such a thing even possible for a warrior of such strength and power?
Aislinn felt as if her face was afire as Cameron looked at her with such intensity that she guessed he must have read her thoughts—saints help her!
His blue eyes darkened to a turbulent hue.
His hand clenching the reins as he didn’t join her in the saddle, but led his stallion toward a cluster of cottages and sundry buildings further down the road from the church.
She sensed his answer without him saying a word, her nervousness flaring again at what would soon ignite between them when he had been so long denied.
She had felt his tension during their shared ride together, too, though she’d offered to take the pony for the short journey, her bottom wedged between his muscular thighs…
