Page 42 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

Oscar placed one hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Ye have done well.”

Tommy stood straighter beneath the praise. “I should check on her once more before Ceana comes down.”

“Once,” Oscar relented. “Then take a seat.”

The children left together, Paisley guarding her ribbon.

Oscar watched until they passed beneath the garden arch. Ceana had become an integral part of their lives so quickly that both could imagine a future where she stayed. He couldn’t let anything ruin that, especially him.

“The witnesses are ready,” Lennan announced.

The priest moved into position as the conversation near the wall died down. David had yet to appear, which meant Heather remained inside with Ceana.

Oscar glanced toward the entrance again. Every instinct urged him to cross the garden, climb the stairs, and learn what had caused the delay. He stayed beside the ribbons anyway, keeping as calm as he could.

What are ye doin’, Ceana? Where are ye?

Heather fastened the last row of hooks at the back of Ceana’s gown, then smoothed down the fabric across her shoulders. The dark green had been chosen from MacKane stores, while a small silver brooch from Morrag secured it at the shoulder.

Paisley’s embroidered ribbon rested beside the blue length Heather had brought from home.

Ceana checked the silver stitches again. The sound of movement outside the chamber made her stomach tighten. It was just servants passing on their way to the garden. The priest had arrived before breakfast, and Oscar would already be waiting.

Her fingers returned to the ribbon until Heather covered them with her own. “Ye will damage the embroidery if ye keep worryin’ it.”

“Paisley wouldnae forgive me, and her faither most definitely will be angry.”

“She might. But I doubt ye would forgive yerself.”

Heather moved behind her and began arranging her hair. Ceana watched their reflections in the small mirror, though the memory of a rough hand against her forehead distracted her from the pins.

“Did he visit ye after ye retired?” Heather asked.

“Oscar brought food and made certain I ate.”

Heather paused with a pin between her fingers. “Oscar?”

“The Laird.”

“Ye didnae call him that a moment ago.”

Ceana lowered her eyes to the ribbon. “He will be me husband by noon. I should be able to say his name.”

Her mother studied her reflection before setting the pin aside. The teasing Ceana expected never came. Instead, Heather turned her chair until they faced one another.

“Are ye certain ye wish to marry him?”

“I gave me word. The clans are gatherin’, and the priest has come.”

“None of that answers me question.”

Ceana drew in a slow breath. “I agreed to the marriage.”

“Daphne agreed to hers until she couldnae endure it.”

She stiffened. “Daphne fled before she was bound to Angus. She chose for herself.”

“Aye, though she had help.”