She did think often of those she’d left at Kendrick’s holding, and worried for her mother, but it was in a strangely distant way.
She and Morag MacFee planned the handfasting with enjoyment. It was to be a simple thing, if only because the settlement could not boast much more, but like the chief’s visits to the hall, it became a welcome diversion. The women of the household, from the servants upward, threw themselves into it enthusiastically.
Morag gave Bradana the gifts of a gown that could be altered to fit her—a task that her woman, Ciari, promptly took in hand—and combs for her hair. A broad, silver-colored ribband.
“This,” Morag said, caressing it, “is the same as was used to bind your grandfather’s hand and mine, when we were joined.”
“Och,” Bradana exclaimed, “then it is precious to ye.”
“Quite precious.” Morag raised her kindly blue eyes to Bradana’s. “I would like for ye and Adair to use it.”
Profoundly touched, Bradana accepted the ribband into her hands. “I will, but only if I might return it to ye after.”
“Aye, lass. I ask ye, do no’ wait too long for this joining. Your grandfather may seem strong now, but I fear… I fear ’twill no’ last. And I do wish for him to see ye wed.”
Bradana brought that up with Adair later. She found him standing down upon the shore, where he’d made a number of friends among the young men who kept the boats and went out fishing. When she came upon him he was alone, gazing out over the silvery waters of late afternoon with an intensity that caused her a ripple of disquiet.
For what did he look? For what did he long? The land he had lost over the water? Could such a longing come between them?
He turned and smiled at her, though, when Wen, who was with her, ran up to him.
She joined them where the running tide came up, reaching for her toes.
“Adair, is all well?” Without giving him time to answer, she went on, “Why d’ye stand here so?”
He shrugged, his eyes returning to the water, and her uneasiness grew. She did not doubt she owned this man’s heart. She wanted it given free, without reservations.
“I ha’ just been thinking,” he said.
“Och, aye?” She fixed her gaze on him. “Tell me truly if ye have any doubts about our being joined. For the handfasting is all but set. ’Tis what I came to tell ye.”
That made him withdraw his gaze from the sea and the sleeping islands beyond, and focus on her. “Doubts about joining with ye? None.” He laid his hand on her back in a gesture of reassurance. “Are we no’ already joined in every way that matters? We gave one another promises, did we not? The handfasting is naught but a formality, to my mind.”
“Then ’tis well wi’ ye if it takes place tomorrow?”
“’Tis very well.”
Bradana thought furiously. She knew this man now, knew his every expression. She could feel the very ripples in his spirit. Standing here now, she willed him to speak of anything troubling him.
And he did.
“’Tis after that which concerns me, Bradana.”
“After?”
“The handfasting. I think we should embark on a wedding trip. To Erin.”
Dismay hit Bradana a fierce blow. Quietly, she said, “I thought ye liked it here.”
“I do, all too well. I like these people and the place.”
“But ’tis no’ Erin.” Where part of him did still reside. Mayhap she did not own all of his heart after all.
“It is not. But that is not why I suggest we leave. From the first, I have feared bringing trouble down on those here. If Mican comes—”
“He has not. He may not.”
Adair shook his head. “If—when—it comes to him that those here are o’ your mother’s blood, that ye may have come here to your grandsire, he will want vengeance. He will want me.”
