Hector rosefrom his chair at the head of the table, his expression unreadable.
“Ye’re just in time,”he said, gesturing to the empty chair at his right—the place where she had sat before, though tonight it seemed to carry new significance.
Gabriella slid into the seat,acutely aware of Andrea and Erica’s curious glances. A servant immediately appeared to fill her goblet with wine, another placing a trencher of steaming venison stew before her.
“Maither, Erica,”Hector began without preamble, his deep voice filling the hall. “I have an announcement. Gabriella has agreed to become me wife. We’ll be married within the week.”
The stunned silencethat followed was broken by the clatter of Erica’s spoon on the table.
“Married?”Surprise crossed Andrea’s features before smoothing into a smile. “Well! This is unexpected news, indeed.”
“Unexpected?”Erica laughed, her eyes bright with excitement. “It’s a bloody miracle! I’d resigned myself to livin’ with a grumpy old bachelor forever!” She beamed at Gabriella. “I’ve always wanted a sister.”
Heat floodedGabriella’s face as both women turned their full attention upon her. What must they think of this sudden engagement? Would they see through the charade to the arrangement beneath?
She tooka quick sip of wine, buying time to compose herself.
“The decision was made today,”Hector continued, his tone matter-of-fact. “After events in the village made it clear that Gabriella needs the full protection of the McCulloch name.”
Somethingin his phrasing made Gabriella glance up sharply. He’d made their arrangement sound almost noble rather than the desperate bargain it was.
Their eyes met brieflyover the rim of her goblet, and the intensity of his gaze sent her pulse racing all over again.
“When did this happen?”Erica demanded, leaning forward eagerly. “Was it romantic? Did ye go down on one knee, Braither?” She looked between them, her eyes sparkling with delight.
“Erica,”Andrea chided gently, though her own expression held unmistakable curiosity. She turned to Hector. “Within the week, ye say? That hardly leaves time for proper preparations.”
“We want a simple ceremony,”Hector replied, cutting into his venison with precise movements. “Nothin’ elaborate.”
“Nothin’elaborate?” Erica looked scandalized. “But it’s the Laird’s weddin’! The clan will expect a celebration.”
Gabriella stared at her plate,suddenly unable to eat despite her hunger. She hadn’t considered the clan’s expectations. Of course, there would be witnesses, traditions, and celebrations. This wouldn’t be a private arrangement between them.
“A small gatherin’will suffice,” Hector insisted. “Given the circumstances.”
Andrea studied them both,her shrewd gaze missing nothing. “At the very least, we must observe the essential traditions. The handfastin’ ceremony in the old stone circle. The clan tartan for the bride. The weddin’ feast.”
“And the dance!”Erica added. “Ye cannae forget the openin’ dance. Every McCulloch weddin’ begins with the couple’s dance. It’s been a tradition since Great-Grandmaither Ailsa’s time.”
Gabriella nearly chokedon her wine. “Dance?” she echoed weakly.
She barely knewthe steps to the simplest country dances, let alone whatever formal traditions the McCullochs observed.
“Och, it’s beautiful,”Erica continued, oblivious to her distress. “The couple enters the Great Hall together, and everyone watches as they dance alone before joinin’ in. It’s meant to symbolize how ye move through life together before becomin’ part of the larger clan.”
Andrea nodded approvingly.“We’ll need to arrange lessons, of course. There’s the special turn at the midpoint that’s unique to McCulloch weddings.” She turned to Gabriella with a reassuring smile. “Dinnae fret, dear. Ye’ll learn quickly enough.”
“The dress,”she then mused. “Perhaps we could alter me weddin’ gown. There’s hardly time to commission somethin’ new, though Mistress Ross might manage a simpler design if we send word tonight.”
“I havesomething special in mind already,” Hector interjected, surprising Gabriella. “Arrangements have been made.”
Andrea raisedan eyebrow but didn’t question her son further. Instead, she turned her attention to the ceremony itself. “Faither MacKenzie should perform the blessin’, of course. And we’ll need to prepare the stone circle. It hasnae been used since Cousin Malcolm’s weddin’ three summers ago.”
“Stone circle?”Gabriella found her voice, at last.
“Aye.”Andrea nodded. “The old traditions hold that a marriage blessed within the sacred stones will endure. It’s been a McCulloch custom for generations.”
Sacred stones.Ancient vows. Clan witnesses. The reality of what Gabriella had agreed to pressed down upon her with each passing moment. This was no simple legal arrangement to be quietly established and later dissolved. These people—this clan—took marriage as seriously as they took battle.
