Page 228 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

"Ye ready?" Malcolm asked, his merry eyes playing. "Ye can always back oot noo, if ye like..."

It was a joke, but Ainslee elbowed him. A smile spread across Malcolm's face, and that of Marisse, beside her, but did not go any further than that.

The elders in the front row looked doughty and stern, and as for her father, he was perplexed. Never in his life had so many people been in his bairn, let alone elders and lairds. Many of the counselors were tutting. They had expected the ceremony to take place in the keep, or at very least, in the kirk.

But Malcolm had put his foot down. The smiddy was good enough for the common folk, and more than that, it felt right.

Taking her hand, Malcolm squeezed it lightly. It tingled with his warmth. Dreaming, Ainslee could not wait to be out of there, and alone with Malcolm. But once again, everyone was looking at her. Finally, her father coughed.

"Ainslee?"

Ainslee did not notice. Staring straight ahead, she was married, in his arms, the world softening.

"Ainslee, do ye take Malcolm to be yer wedded husband?"

Ainslee blinked. Somehow, the ceremony had started, and they were together, at the anvil, their hands being joined.

"I...aye, I do," she said, with some trouble. A low laughter started around the barn, but Malcolm just smiled.

"An' I, Malcolm, do take Ainslee, to be my wife," he repeated, slowly. Ainslee felt her heart heat. Everything in the barn was so intense, despite the fervor, she just longed to sink into his arms.

Malcolm's eyes connected, drawing her in. Gently, he encouraged her on.

"With this ring, I thee wed," he said. Malcolm produced the golden clan ring, its thick black gem shimmering in the light. As he slid it onto Ainslee's finger, she looked up.

"Mal, yer ring!"

Everyone laughed. Around her, Ainslee glanced uncertainly. She may have been a little dazed, but she had not been prepared for this. The Duncan clan ring - on her finger!

"Yer ring, noo," Malcolm pointed out. Ainslee buzzed with excitement. She just kept looking at it, next to the posy ring; impressive and regal.

"Ye may now drink from the cup," her father smiled, lifting the double handled quaich towards them, with a little look. It was the cup he had tooled.

Ainslee took the newly cast silver cup, and sipped deep. The hot rush of whiskey almost knocked her clean out. For a moment, she wobbled.

"Steady," Malcolm said. His hand came to steady her. Grinning, Ainslee watched as he drank deep from the quaich. Then, he looked at her.

"An' I noo pronounce ye both married!"

Mister McDonald grinned, and loud cheering broke out, even from the dour-eyed elders, at the front of the crowd. Ainslee blinked. She was married!

Malcolm lifted Ainslee high up to his shoulder.

"Mal!" Ainslee gave a little squeal, but Malcolm did not listen, spinning her around wildly, until she gasped.

"Finally," said Malcolm, putting her back down. Ainslee's head was spinning. The room careered around her, almost crashing. Catching her breath, Ainslee listened.

"An' noo ye may kiss the..."

Malcolm was already kissing her. His scent leaned in, encircling her, before his soft lips dived in. Sinking, she wrapped her arms around him.

"Wheesht!" she murmured, as their kiss drilled down hard. Her heart was pumping. Every emotion raced right through her.

Then, the pipers played a jaunty tune and Malcolm turned to Ainslee.

"Shall we dance?" his eyes suggested playfully, and Ainslee felt something surge. Taking his hand, she led him forwards, in the march out of the smiddy, and back to the keep.

Her heart singing glady, Ainslee wrapped herself into Malcolm, and danced for all she was worth.