His thumbs hooked restlessly into his belt, his fingers tightened into fists, and only a few moments later, he was rubbing his palms together again.
The Great Hall had filled earlier than expected. Clansfolk had gathered for the procession before the festival proper began, the elders and councilmen had readied themselves to host half the Highlands for a day of celebration, and Caelan had stationed himself near the main doors with the watchful stillness of a man who had already counted every head twice.
Aaron had counted nothing. His attention was focused on one thing only—Edith, and when she would finally appear at the top of the staircase.
There was a crowd waiting outside for them. Voices drifted through the Great Hall, and the musicians had already begun tuning their instruments, their quiet notes rising and falling against the growing murmurs of the gathered people.
But Aaron heard none of it. His gaze remained on the staircase until, finally, a sliver of deep green appeared around the bend of the upper landing.
His breath caught.
His pulse quickened as Edith stepped fully into view, and for one impossible moment, the noise of the Great Hall seemed to fall away entirely.
She descended the staircase slowly, her gloved hand trailing lightly along the banister. Her green gown caught the light from the high windows above in a way that made the gold embroidery shimmer faintly with every step.
Saints.
Aaron had seen her in many states since their arrangement began. He had seen her composed, streaked with mud, laughing, and trembling beneath his hand. In the days that led up to thismoment, he had thought himself prepared for whatever version of her would appear before him.
But he was not prepared for this.
Her auburn hair cascaded in waves that framed her face, the rest of its long length flowing down her back. The gown fit her with precision, just the way he had imagined it, and the deep green color brought out the warmth in her eyes, the faint scatter of freckles across her nose standing out against her glowing skin.
She looked like a lady.
She looked impossibly likehislady.
His heart gave one hard, painful thump against his ribs, and he crossed the remaining distance without thinking about it, his hand extending toward hers as she reached the bottom step.
“Edith.”
Her name left his tongue roughly, but Edith did not seem to mind. She placed her hand in his, her touch hotter than anything he had ever felt. His hand held onto her as though she were the most important thing in the world.
A flush rose to her cheeks, and she looked away, seemingly shy.
“Me Laird,” she said softly, raising her eyes slowly to meet his again.
“Ye look—” Aaron stopped himself, his jaw tightening as he searched for the best words to describe her.
Beautiful. Like everything I have been tryin’ nae to want.
“—well,” he said instead, the word entirely inadequate for what he actually meant.
Something flickered in Edith’s expression—disappointment, perhaps—and she looked away once again, her gaze flitting over the empty corridor.
What is happenin’ to me?
Aaron’s jaw tightened. He had built his entire reputation on order and control. On saying precisely what needed to be said and nothing more. On managing every situation with the same calculated precision that he applied to border disputes and trade negotiations.
He was not the sort of man to stumble over simple sentences. He did not lose himself in the company of a woman. And yet here he stood, utterly unable to form a complete thought in Edith’s presence.
“Shall we?” he managed finally, gesturing toward the doors where the sound of music and celebration had already begun drifting in.
Edith nodded, putting her hand on his arm before they walked together into the Great Hall.
The space had emptied considerably as clansfolk made their way outside ahead of them, but the few who remained turned to watch them with open curiosity. The councilmen who had once questioned Edith’s worth now offered respectful nods as she passed.
Aaron felt her hand tighten slightly on his arm.
