CHAPTER 9
The wedding was going well.Much better than Skye had expected. Her dress, which she’d been so afraid wouldn’t fit, turned out to fit like a glove. No new alterations were needed.
Helena pulled back, running her eyes over her daughter’s frame. The sharpness in her eyes faded to something softer, and she smiled.
“Beautiful,” she whispered, darting forward to press a kiss to Skye’s cheek. “Never thought I’d see ye wed, lassie!”
“Ah, thanks,” Skye snorted, wrapping her arms around her mother and hugging her tightly.
As always, the older woman was so small and thin that it felt like she was going to snap. A pang of fear shot through Skye’s stomach.
Willnae Ma get lonely with me living in Keep Bryden from now on? Will Hunter be good enough company for her?
She pulled back, glancing over her mother’s head. As if he read her mind, her brother met her eyes.
“I’ll take good care of Ma, Skye,” Hunter promised quietly. He reached up to tug at his cloak, secured at his throat with a heavy MacCrimmon clasp. Today was a formal event, a wedding that everybody in the Highlands wanted to attend. Everybody had to dress well.
Skye offered him a weak smile and a nod. “Thank ye, Hunter. Now, I suppose we should get going, eh? I ken it’s a bride’s prerogative to be late to her own wedding, but this is a political marriage, so I best nae push it.”
That was meant to be a joke.
Helena smiled politely. Hunter did not.
He was the one escorting her down the aisle, of course. Wordlessly, he offered his arm. She took it, and they turned to the chapel door. He didn’t immediately push open the door, so they stood still, staring at the wood. On the other side of it, murmurs and whispers indicated that a congregation had gathered inside. She imagined all of them, crammed in shoulder-to-shoulder on narrow, uncomfortable pews, all waiting to seeher.
All waiting to see Lady Skye, Laird MacCrimmon’s sister and Laird MacColl’s cousin, marry Laird Bryden.
Laird Bryden would be there, waiting at the top of the aisle.Evander.
Hunter glanced down at her. “Ye daenae have to do this, Skye.”
“I ken.”
“I mean it. Ye can back out at this very moment. I’ll take ye home. All will be well. Ye daenae have to marry Laird Bryden.”
“I daenae hate him, Hunter.”
Hunter barked out a laugh. “That’s nae enough of a reason to marry someone.”
“Ilikehim. He doesnae frighten me. I daenae loathe him like I thought I would. This match, it’s…” Skye paused, searching for the right words. “Well, it’s the right thing to do, is it nae? For our clans. Besides, I would have had to marry somebody anyway, eh? It might as well be a match that will do us some good. And he’s nae bad-looking, either.”
Hunter blinked, horrified. “Ye think he ishandsome?”
Skye chuckled, shaking her head. “He’s naeugly, is he?”
Hunter pressed his lips together and scoffed. “Whatever ye want, Sister. But just ken, I’ll be here for ye, wed or nae. I’ll always be here for ye.”
Skye rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek. “Thank ye, Braither,” she whispered. “That means so much to me.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment, the air around her seemed to change. Rippling, almost, like a hand drawn through river water, obscuring a crystal-clear vision of the river bed beneath.
Skye frowned.
Am I dreaming?
She blinked, and abruptly she was in her room. Panic filled her stomach like a leaden weight, pressure increasing and constricting her chest. The room, familiar yet unfamiliar, was decorated for a pair of newlyweds.
A bright fire burned in the hearth, and rich, sweet wine waited in a jug with a pair of goblets beside it. Had she already drunk some? She couldn’t remember, only that her limbs were heavy, so heavy.
