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Neill was ready both for the ceremony that would tie him and Kathryn together forever and to make her his bride in truth.

All of Kenshire had crowded below the chapel, spilling into Kenshire’s inner courtyard, so he was glad for the familiar colors of Clan Kerr, their chief standing not far from him. He was glad also for Peter and Faye, who acted as much as parents to his brother and Sara as they allowed, and Uncle Hugh, who’d returned from Camburg Castle near Wales just the day before. Allies like deSowlis were also present.

And though there were two important people missing from the ceremony—Adam and Cora hadn’t had enough time to make the journey—Neill vowed to take Kathryn to Langford Castle at the earliest opportunity.

“They’re coming.” Geoffrey stood tall to see over the crowd gathered below them.

He watched as at least two hundred people moved to the side to create a path for Kathryn and her maids. Minstrels had been secured for the wedding feast that night, but now a single lutist played a lovely, familiar melody.

And then stopped.

It wasn’t Kathryn’s maid who walked toward him after all, but two people. A man and a woman.

And though he could not yet see their faces, Neill knew the couple well.

Throat scratchy, he swallowed, attempting to regain composure. “How?” he murmured to no one.

Geoffrey answered him. “Kathryn sent word to them before you left London.”

Kathryn could not have known they would marry this day. If she’d let Neill have his way, they would already be man and wife.

“But . . .”

“She explained the date had not been set but they may want to leave ‘posthaste.’ They arrived last eve after you retired. It was Kathryn’s idea for them to announce themselves now rather than earlier.”

They smiled as if he were their son in truth rather than a boy whom they’d fostered. These two new guests were as dear to him as any in the world, and it felt right that they should be here. He knew Adam felt a special kinship with the Caiser family because of his connection with her father and grandfather, the man who’d bequeathed him Langford Castle. Bryce made space for them along the lowermost stone stair. Grinning at them, Neill collected himself as best he could, marveling at the surprise his future wife had managed to send to him this day.

Kathryn.

No sooner had he regained his composure than he spotted the first glimpse of color moving toward him through the crowd.

Bryce’s wife, Catrina, followed by Emma and then Sara. They each wore a different color, but while they looked lovely today, it was the woman who was now coming toward him who nearly made his knees buckle. With her hair pulled partially back, her face completely visible, Kathryn’s blue silk gown glimmered as the sun shone against the gold embroidery. Gold thread danced around her neckline, her sleeves . . . everywhere. And just one simple jewel adorned her neck.

Neill knew it well.

The necklace had been his mother’s. And now, it was his wife’s. Or his soon-to-be wife. He could not stop smiling at Kathryn as she finally joined him at the top of the stairs, and when Father Simon finally cleared his throat, loudly, Neill knew he’d been caught.

He attempted to concentrate on the priest’s words, but it was a battle he could not win. He only processed the most important part: the recitation of his vows. Repeating after Father Simon, he said, “I, Sir Neill Waryn, take thee, Lady Kathryn Wyld, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, for fairer or fouler, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ’til death us depart, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereunto I plight thee my troth.”

Kathryn said the same, and a short time later, it was done.

She was his wife. His heart felt like it had expanded to fill his whole body.

Cheers went up from the crowd as they made their way from the chapel toward the great hall. A wedding feast would last into the night.

“No more beautiful bride has ever graced this hall or any other,” he said as they entered the front doors, which were held wide open. All would be welcome this day, Kenshire’s hall filled beyond its capacity.

He’d seen it earlier in the day, the fresh strewn rushes and flowers everywhere, but it seemed somehow more vibrant, more decorative now. Everything seemed brighter and better now that they were wed.

“And you, sir, make an extraordinarily dashing groom.”

Though their guests would sit at the extra trestle tables set out for the occasion, it would be some time before Neill and Kathryn took a seat. It was customary for the newly wed couple to walk among the guests first, and they gladly did so together.

Just before they arrived at the table closest to the dais, the one where Adam and Cora sat, Neill pulled Kathryn to the side.

“Before I introduce you to them, I want to thank you.”

Kathryn smiled. “’Tis my wedding gift to you, husband.”