Chapter 46
TWO WEEKS LATER
Mmmm.” Moira snuggled next to Duncan. Of course, he had been right that they should wait to say their vows until Connor arrived. It seemed churlish not to wait for him when he was coming specially for it—and after he had given them Dunscaith.
Besides, Moira was enjoying these last days of clandestine meetings. Though everyone in the castle knew, they pretended not to.
“I’ll miss sneaking away to your cottage,” Moira said, running her hand over Duncan’s chest.
“We can come up here any time we want after we’re wed,” Duncan said.
“But will it be as much fun when we’re married?” she teased him.
Duncan rolled onto his side and took her face between his hands. “Everything will be better when we’re married,” he said, fixing his serious eyes on her. “I promise.”
“How can it be better than this?” she asked, her throat suddenly tight. “I’m so happy now.”
“That’s all I ever wanted,” Duncan said and then kissed her with a tenderness that let her know how precious she was to him.
His body was all hard muscle, and yet his lips were soft and warm on hers. Moira sighed against his mouth and pressed against him. Eventually, their kisses grew heated. No matter how many times they made love, they wanted each other again.
After all the time apart and how much they both had suffered, she cherished these intimate moments together. If this joy between them had come easy, perhaps Moira would not know its worth. But now, she would never take it for granted.
Sometime later, she was collapsed on top of Duncan, her limbs limp and every muscle relaxed. She thought it would take the cottage catching on fire to get her to move—but it only took someone pounding on the shutters.
“Get out of bed, you sinners! I’ve come a long way for a wedding!”
Moira laughed when she recognized Alex’s voice.
“Connor’s galley is nearly to the castle.” This time the voice calling through the shutters was Ian’s. “Sìleas and Ilysa sent us to fetch the bride so they can help ye dress.”
“That’s the end of this.” Moira grinned at Duncan and gave him a quick kiss. “From now on, I’m only making love to my husband.”
* * *
Duncan stood before his clan in the castle he had grown up in and loved, but which had never truly been his home until today. He knew every stone of its keep and every hill and mountain that could be seen from its walls.
Connor faced him, holding a new claymore, an expensive and symbolic gift to mark the occasion. The flat of the unsheathed blade, which rested across his palms, gleamed in the light from the lamps and candles that filled the hall.
“As chieftain of the MacDonalds of Sleat, I entrust this castle and my clansmen who rely on its protection to a great warrior,” Connor said in a voice that carried through the room. “Let our enemies beware that Duncan Ruadh MacDonald is now keeper of Dunscaith Castle!”
The roar of voices and stomping of feet was so loud that it seemed to shake the walls as Duncan accepted the sword. Fortunately, their clansmen knew Duncan and did not expect a speech.
“I’m grateful for this honor to serve you and our clan,” Duncan said to Connor over the continuing clamor. He held the gaze of his friend and chieftain and saw the pride he felt reflected in Connor’s eyes.
“Who thought we would see this day, my friend, when I was chieftain and you the keeper of a MacDonald stronghold?” Connor said, his silver-blue eyes gleaming. “And now, to make you my brother.”
At Connor’s signal, the hall went quiet and then the wondrous music of Uilleam MacCrimmon’s pipes filled the room. Duncan had sent word to him as soon as he and Moira had returned to Dunscaith and was pleased Uilleam had received the message in time to come.
Duncan slid the new claymore into the scabbard strapped to his back, then turned and held his hand out to his bride. As always, Moira took his breath away. She was stunning in a dark blue velvet gown that matched her vibrant eyes, set off her dark hair and ivory skin, and clung to her full curves like a lover.
But it was the glow that shone about her, as it had when he first fell in love with her, that made her truly beautiful to him. His darling Moira was fearless and full of laughter once again.
Moira touched the sprig of white heather in her hair, like the one pinned to his plaid, and winked at him. “I hear ’tis not easy to find heather this time of year,” she whispered under the music of the pipes, “unless ye know where to look.”
White heather, which was a wedding token for good fortune, had been especially hard to find.
Duncan nodded to Alex and Ian when they came to stand on either side of Connor. Ragnall, Sarah, and Alex’s daughter Sorcha stood at the front of the crowd, where they could see. Ilysa was with them, along with Ian’s wife Sìleas and their babes. Alex’s wife, whom Duncan was very fond of, was pregnant and too near her time to travel.
