Yet when they had grown fussy, the bairns were hustled away for a feeding, which had made Tira wonder how she would manage when she left this place with Errol. She knew they couldn’t remain at Castle MacLachlan forever.
She had imagined they would travel north to his family’s home in Sutherland country, which bordered Cheyne lands, but those musings had conjured painful feelings about her parents—Tira relieved to think about something else when her silken wedding gown had been presented to her and lowered over her head.
The shimmering garment truly one of the finest she had ever worn, along with matching gold slippers that felt soft as butter. Not long afterward Cora had reappeared with the delicate wreath for her to wear, Tira breathing in the rose fragrance that perfumed the air as she walked down the tower steps with Cora at her side.
Tira remembered then she had worn a similar scent that day in her father’s great hall when she had agreed to become Errol’s wife. Her face flushed with warmth as she wished wildly that the days and months would fall away and she would be back in his arms, so innocent and chaste—och, but then she wouldn’t have her bairns!
“Tira, we’re at the chapel. Please dinna look so anxious, I beg you. Errol is already waiting for you at the altar.”
Tira swallowed hard, nodding at Cora even though she had begun to tremble, her legs feeling weak. If not for Cora’s arm looped through hers, she doubted she would have been able to take another step, the two of them walking together into the candlelit chapel that smelled of incense.
Tira’s first impulse to lower her eyes at how intently Errol stared at her, her heartbeat begun to race, but strangely, she could not, as if he somehow willed her to hold his gaze.
His face so handsome and clean-shaven, any hint of stubble gone, his red hair glinting in the candlelight and falling upon shoulders so broad.
The deep blue of his well-fitting tunic the same color as his eyes, a plaid breacan in rich hues of blue, green and red wrapped around him and tied at his waist.
Tira had never imagined any man could look so magnificent, aye, even more so than she remembered from last year—ah, God. She stopped suddenly with a sweeping sense of panic, though Errol cleared the short distance between them in two strides and took her arm as Cora stepped aside.
“Tira…I willna marry you against your will,” he began in a voice hoarse with emotion, his eyes searching her flushed face. “Tell me you want this…want us…”
Errol couldn’t seem to finish while Tira felt a clutch in her throat, her panic now dismay.
It wasn’t fair that she marry him—it wasn’t right! Mayhap she could never be a wife fully to him and their lives together would become a misery…she and her children nothing more than a burden to a good and honorable man who deserved so much more?—
“I love you, Tira…enough tae overcome whatever you’re thinking, whatever you fear,” Errol said as he gently drew her toward the altar, his low voice resolute. “I will never do anything tae hurt you or make you regret this day, I swear it. Say you will wed me?—”
“A-aye,” she broke in softly, the look of relief upon his face making her wish she hadn’t faltered and caused him distress.
She loved him so much, though something would not allow her to say it, why, she didn’t know.
All she could muster in that moment was to stand with him, trembling from head to foot, in front of the altar where the middle-aged priest looked doubtful as to if he should proceed, until Cora spoke up behind them.
“Begin the ceremony, Father Ezekiel.”
Tira sucked in her breath when the priest bobbed his balding head and began to intone the service, Errol taking her hand and interlacing his strong fingers with hers as the sacred words flew by in a heart-pounding blur.
Then it was done, she and Errol pronounced husband and wife and Cora rushing forward at once to congratulate them.
“I wish Gavin could have been here with us—but we’ve a fine wedding feast awaiting you in the great hall. Come!”
With Errol still holding her hand, Tira found she couldn’t look at him, her legs no longer trembling but wooden as they left the chapel with an effusive Cora leading the way.
“Oh, Tira, you’re such a lovely bride. I’m so happy for you both—and Gavin will be so pleased as well when he returns. It should be soon, he promised we would have a few days together before he must head south with King Robert. You and the bairns must stay with me while Errol is gone, too—och, we’ll talk of that tomorrow.”
Errol,gone? Tira glanced at him while his grip on her hand seemed to tighten as if to reassure her, though she had no idea of what Cora had spoken.
He shook his head slightly, which told her now wasn’t the time to ask him, as Cora led them into the great hall packed with those assembled to celebrate their marriage, everyone rising to greet them.
Gavin’s warriors mostly, some with what Tira guessed were their wives and even some children laughing and running around trestle tables laden with platters of food.
Servants bustled to fill cups while a great shout of congratulations went up as Cora led her and Errol to the head table, Tira’s face burning at all the raucous attention. Still Errol held her hand, but he released her to help her into a cushioned seat, his solicitous gallantry making her blush even more.
How could she have deserved such a man as Errol Sutherland? To Tira’s amazement, no one seemed to be whispering about her behind their hands or casting sideways looks as she might have imagined, but seemed to be wholeheartedly pleased about their marriage—Cora beaming as she raised her cup in a toast.
“I speak for both my husband and myself this day and wish great happiness upon whom I now consider family…Errol and his lovely bride, Tira Sutherland!”
Another loud roar went up and seemed to rumble from the very rafters, Errol handing Tira a cup and lifting his own to drink, his gaze riveted upon her.
