Page 44 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

“Braid it as I have always preferred.”

Heather removed the pins already placed and divided Ceana’s hair into sections with her slender fingers. By the time she secured the braid, a soft knock sounded at the door.

Tommy pushed it open before anyone could answer, and Paisley entered behind him, carrying the second embroidered ribbon with both hands.

“Ye look finer than a queen,” Tommy complimented.

Paisley gave her brother a restrained look, then looked at Ceana and went very still. The relief on her face mingled with the uncertainty she had carried since learning of the wedding.

Ceana held out her hand. “Will ye carry yer ribbon into the garden and give it to the priest?”

Paisley’s fingers tightened around the ribbon. “Ye truly wish to use it?”

“I promised to keep it, and I meant what I said.”

The girl nodded, holding the ribbon closer to her breast.

“Thank ye for takin’ such care,” Ceana said. “It matters to me.”

Tommy smiled almost like a warrior entrusted with a border. He left with Paisley to take his place, managing to close the door softly after them.

Heather settled Ceana’s cloak around her shoulders, then offered her arm. They moved into the passage as the sounds of the gathering grew louder. Several voices carried through the open entrance, and a bench shifted across the grass. One distant bleat came from the stables.

At the foot of the stairs, a clanswoman leaned toward her companion. “That must be Lady Daphne, the bride Laird MacKane stole from Laird Angus.”

Mairi spoke up before Ceana could. “Her name is Lady Ceana Tulloch. She is the one marryin’ Laird MacKane, nae Lady Daphne.”

The correction was quiet enough to avoid spectacle. Its certainty followed Ceana to the garden entrance, where her father waited in his formal coat.

David looked at Heather first. Whatever he saw on her face made him turn toward Ceana with greater care.

“Do ye wish me to place yer hand in his?” he asked.

Ceana looked beyond him. Oscar stepped forward before the priest raised his hand, then checked himself as his gaze traveled over her with an intensity she felt through her gown. For one brief moment, his control faltered, and desire flashed hot in his eyes.

“Aye,” she said. “I want ye to take me to him.”

David offered his arm. As they walked down the aisle, Ceana kept her attention on Oscar. His dark, formal coat accentuated the breadth of his shoulders, and his scarred hand hung still at his side.

At the end of the aisle, David paused. Ceana gave him a small nod before he placed her hand in Oscar’s.

Oscar’s fingers closed around hers. His grip was gentle, though it tightened once their palms met.

“Ye’re beautiful,” he murmured.

The simple words reached the part of her still wounded by his apology.

She held his gaze until the priest stepped closer. She looked once toward her mother, who had offered her escape. Tommy stood near Oscar, his eyes fixed on them, while Paisley waited beside the ribbons.

Ceana drew in a deep breath. “I come of me own will, and I take Oscar Barr as me husband before God and those gathered here.”

Oscar’s thumb pressed over her pulse. “I come of me own will,” he said, “and I take Ceana Tulloch as me wife before God and those gathered here.”

Paisley approached with her embroidered ribbon. Heather brought the Morrag blue, and the priest wound both lengths around Ceana and Oscar’s joined hands. The cloth tightened gently around their wrists as the wind lifted one loose edge. Oscar’s palm covered hers, his thumb lingering against her pulse.

Once the vows were spoken, the priest pronounced them husband and wife.

Oscar kept hold of her hand as he stepped closer. His free hand settled on her waist, firm enough to send heat through the layers between them. He lowered his head until only she could hear his next words.