Chapter 9
With a heavy thump, the door slammed into the wall. Shona jumped and felt Angus jerk around.
“What is going on here?” Uncle Seamus’s angry demand rumbled over them. It was clearly not a question. Her heart seized in her throat. Guilt, at being found in Angus’s bed, even fully clothed, washed over her like cold rain until she felt Angus squeeze her hand, and then she remembered the plaid still joined them together.
Angus raised their bound hands and answered for her. “As ye can see, we have wed.”
“Handfasted?”
Shona could hear the outrage in Uncle Seamus’s voice and didn’t know whether to smile or duck. But she trusted Angus would let her know and would protect her if her uncle chose to do anything violent.
“What use is that? ’Tis no’ a true marriage without a priest.”
Shona clenched her free hand into a fist. Would her uncle make such a scene that Angus would regret what they’d done? After all, they’d yet to consummate the marriage. She’d warned Angus a handfasting could easily be undone. Suddenly, she couldn’t bear to lose him, now she finally had someone who loved her and who accepted what she could do.
Was Seamus’s outrage feigned? This fit his plans, after all, to have his niece wed to the laird. She let out a cautious breath. “Aye, it is a true marriage,” she said, her voice louder and more forceful than her usual tone. This time, she beat Angus to answering, determined to make him and her uncle understand how real this was to her. Real and true, and what she willed.
“Ye are a daring chit,” her uncle taunted. “But handfasting willna do.” Seamus cleared his throat. “Ye must marry the lass in the kirk.”
He directed that comment, she supposed, at Angus, who merely chuckled and answered, “I plan to.”
Then Angus began unwrapping the plaid binding them together, and Shona kept her expression serene through force of will. Did he need both hands to fight? Was her uncle brandishing a weapon? Did he have a blade to Angus’s throat?
She couldn’t see!
“But this will do, for now,” Angus continued as he freed their hands from the ceremonial binding.
“Hmmmph.” Her uncle’s grunt of acceptance made her sag against Angus in relief. She gripped his shoulder to cover her emotions. If Uncle Seamus saw how worried he’d made her, that might set him off again.
“So if ye will do us the kindness of leaving us to our privacy…” Angus said and covered her hand with one of his.
Shona could hear the taunting in his voice and wished, again, she could see her uncle’s expression. Or Angus’s. She guessed much of what was going on between the two men was not being spoken aloud.
“Aye, Uncle, please leave us,” Shona added, making her acceptance of this joining as plain as she could. Of all times for her to be trapped in darkness!
Uncle Seamus stomped out, and the door slammed shut behind him. Since she was leaning against Angus, she felt his chuckle rumble deep in his chest.
But wait. Was that a glimmer? Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a distinct glow—the hearth!
“Angus!”
“He’s gone, lass. Now, where were we?”
“Angus, I can see!”
Hands gripped her shoulders, and Shona supposed Angus studied her face. She couldn’t tell. Not until she felt his breath on her face and heard his groan just before his lips brushed hers.
“Truly?”
For the first time since she’d realized what happened to her, she felt certain she would see again. “I can see the hearth glow, a bit. No’ much. Nought else yet, but…”
“Thank God.” Angus rested his forehead against hers. “Ye had me worried, lass. Though the healer said ye would recover…”
“And I shall. I canna wait to see yer face, husband.” Angus’s head lifted away and she imagined the surprised arc of his eyebrows.
“Ye have seen it,” he said, his intonation puzzled.
“Then, ye werena my husband. Now, ye are. I wish to ken if ye have changed.”
