“Caelan O’Keif,” she squealed, spinning toward him with an expression of pure joy. “Ye absolute?—”
“I am speakin’ to the Laird,” Caelan said with great dignity, though color had risen to his face.
Aaron regarded his man-at-arms for a long moment. He let the silence stretch out long enough to be uncomfortable, the way Caelan had done to him on dozens of occasions over the years. Then, finally, he spoke.
“Ye have me permission.”
Caelan’s shoulders dropped by approximately half an inch in barely concealed relief. “Thank ye, me Laird.” He turned to Scarlett then, returning her excited smile with a brief nod. “Thank ye, Scarlett.”
The entire chamber was brimming with joy.
“I should warn ye,” Aaron teased, “the lass is Edith’s maid. I suspect the standards will be high.”
“I am well aware,” Caelan said.
Edith laughed from the bed, where she was now sitting up.
Aaron stood in the center of it all—the laughter, the plans already forming, his sister’s joy and his most trusted man’s flustered dignity—and for the first time in longer than he could properly account for, he found that he was truly happy. Truly content.
He looked at Edith. She was watching him with a small smile on her lips, her hand cradled in his, the medallion still at her throat exactly where he had placed it weeks ago.
She mouthed two words to him, quiet enough that only he could see.
Kiss me.
Aaron smiled. Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips.
EPILOGUE
It was today.
The binding ceremony was to be held under the open sky, just as Edith had imagined it would if she were ever to wed.
The sun poured in through the window, warming the stone walls of her chamber until the room glowed softly with golden light.
She could hear pipes beginning to play somewhere in the fields beyond the castle. Hallow was awake, and the people were gathered, waiting for the ceremony to begin.
She looked at herself in the polished mirror, her fingertips gliding over her pale green gown for what must have been the tenth time.
“I have never seen ye admire a dress so much,” Scarlett said, coming behind her. “Ye look like the perfect bride, me friend.”
Edith smiled, looking at her friend through the mirror as she arranged petals of wild lavender into her hair. Violet had braided it into a crown earlier, leaving out small auburn locks to frame her face.
“They suit ye,” Scarlett said, referring to the petals in her hair. “Ye already ken that.”
Heat rushed into Edith’s cheeks.
She had finally confessed it to her best friend a few days ago, admitting that Aaron had said the wild lavender suited her. That was the reason Scarlett had insisted on placing the petals in her hair for the binding.
Perhaps it is me fault.
“Scarlett…”
“What?” Scarlett teased. “I merely speak the truth.”
Edith laughed, and her friend joined in, the sound of their happiness filling the chamber.
Not very long ago, Edith had been imagining a different life for herself. A life spent alone in the Lowlands, with her love for herbs and the occasional company of patients who needed her help.
