AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A symphony of bagpipes sounded in the chapel, their music filling the air, rapturing everybody.
Her groom turned to her and the world disappeared. Eyes meshed on each other, she floated through the aisle, holding herself not to run to him. Not to abduct him to a quiet place far from the crowd.
Taran wished he had a watch chained to his tartan, so he would count the hours for tonight and the moment he would be with only her. He thought while he followed her progress towards him. Apart from the music and her, nothing else existed. It appeared as if she caught all the light, he saw her alone.
This represented the arrangement he had wished from the beginning with the McKendricks. But it did not matter any longer. She mattered. The both of them mattered. No more, no less. The hurricane had twisted and spun his entire life, to the point of not leaving anything standing.
And he could not care less.
In a question of a fortnight, she turned his life upside down and more. To a measure he did not even want to remember what it felt like before Aileen. Barren, hollow, grey. Lonely.
Her irruption in his world came as a thousand torches brightening each nook and corner of it. With the least meek, least tame of comportments. Which drove him crazy, evidently. And hot. Out of control. Hungry for her. For her presence.
The bagpipes silenced at the same second her hand touched his sleeve. She stood by his side at last.
Grave and eyes fast on each other, they pronounced the vows, holding hands. Only at this moment, the words gained their full meaning. For him, at least. He uttered them and heard her do the same with a solemn trait crossing his guts. He meant every single syllable as he conveyed it to her, staring her deep in her beautiful gaze. Hers on him gave identical impression. Who would imagine he had it in him to marry anew? And a lass like her on top of it all.
But Aileen would not promise to obey him, damn the witch! He concluded after the ceremony as her clan surrounded them with well-wishing platitudes. How did the diminutive woman manage this? He shrugged mentally. Nothing to do now but go with the flow.
“What do you say I abduct you and take you somewhere quiet?” She proposed mutely by his side.
A scoff escaped his lips. “I would go willingly, if it would not mean a declaration of war on the McDougals.”
“Oh, drat.” She exclaimed mutinously. “I guess we must stay then.”
“Be patient.” He advised against his own inclination. “I will make it worthwhile.” He assured her.
“I can hardly wait.” On his arm, her thumb caressed him disguisedly, causing him to take her hand and kiss it with gallantry.
Much much later, in his appointed chamber, he busted the wildest of her expectations.
CHAPTER THRIRTEEN
“I will wait outside while you talk to your father.” She said to Sam a week later when he entered the study to meet his sire and she left closing the door.
“Father.” He called the man reading a sheaf of papers by the hearth.
Taran turned to his freckled son.
“I am leaving.” He continued.
Suddenly, his son came closer to becoming a man. He lost that boyish air so typical of him. “Did you pack everything you need?” He placed the sheaf on the desk.
“Yes. Do not worry. You gave me enough money to buy anything I need twice over, I guess.”
The boy who had been his sole family for the best part of two decades would spread his wings. Far from his father. “If you require more, just ask.”
“I will not.” Frugal, this son of his.
The Laird tried for a smile, but he was not very good at it. “I believed the both of us were a complete family and never realised how badly you missed your mother.”
“You need not do this.” Sam responded, moved
by the other man’s efforts.
“I do.” He said, coming nearer. “I closed myself. Took refuge in the clan’s affairs and did not pay attention to what really happened to you.”
“You did. You provided me with the best you could afford.”
