The priest nodded to Sir Pieres, and the knight called the crowd filling the large chamber to silence, but she caught the anguish in his eyes at her marrying another man. However much she did not want this marriage, she wished that one day her friend would find a woman deserving of his love.
The scent of roast venison and herbs filling the air, Father Iames opened the Bible. Strains of Latin echoed around her as the sacred ceremony began, holy words that would forevermore bind her to a man she detested.
As the priest made the sign of the cross, Gwendolyn averted her gaze to the flames in the hearth, the whirl of black soot spiraling upward, so like her life, charred of hope.
“Do you,” the priest began, “take Bróccín MacRaith, Earl of Balfour, as your lawfully wedded husband?”
The vicar’s deep voice echoed within the great room, and her stomach lurched.
At her silence, a frown worked its way across the priest’sweathered brow.
Too aware of the pride-filled faces around her and refusing to dishonor her legacy, she steadied herself. “I—I do.”
The priest’s gaze shifted to Lord Balfour. “And do you, Lord Balfour,” Father Iames said, his aged voice rough with emotion, “take Lady Gwendolyn Murphy as your lawfully wedded wife?”
At his silence,she looked up.
Green eyes penetrated hers with such intensity, like a warrior set to conquer, and she shuddered. “I do,” he replied, his deep, his confident burr rolling through the chamber as if staking his claim.
Her knights within the great room exploded into cheers. Tankards of ale were passed around with fervor, and men raised their cups in toasts to the occasion before downing the brew.
Amid the merriment, she lowered her gaze. Gwendolyn stared at the man she’d never wanted, and fought to accept the fact that at this moment her life had changed.
The earl’s strong arm wrapped around her. She stiffened as he turned with her to face the crowd. “May I present my wife, Lady Gwendolyn!”
Another round of cheers roared within the great room as servants refilled pitchers of ale and trays of roasted meat, bread, and sweets to celebrate the occasion. One by one, those within filed past to offer their congratulations.
Wanting to escape, she thanked each person as she fought to keep hersmile in place.
Eyes cool, Sir Pieres stepped forward. “Lord Balfour, I congratulate you onyour marriage.”
The earl nodded.
Her friend moved to stand before her. “My lady… Know that I will protect you always.”
“A taskIwill undertake,” Bróccín said with soft warning. “Your loyalty to my wife is something I applaud. Faithfulness, I welcome into my ranks and expect no less from anyone withinmy protection.”
Sir Pieres’s face grew taut. “Aye, my lord.” He turned and walked away.
She did not miss the way the earl watched her knight’s departing form with a critical eye. “We have been friends since childhood. He is a man I trustwith my life.”
“A fact I well understand, but I tolerate naught but his complete fidelity.”
Anger slid through her. “Sir Pieres is aman of honor.”
“Of that I have nay doubt. But his protectiveness exposes that his feelings for you extend beyond those of aloyal knight.”
Deciding ’twas prudent to change the subject. “You may release me.”
“The way you are trembling,” he whispered, the grim smile on his face never wavering, “if I let you go, you would collapse.”
Humiliated that her legs were indeed unsteady, she remained silent.
A tall warrior with a shock of red hair and eyes as blue as the ocean stepped before her, the man Bróccín had introduced earlier as Sir Cailin, gave a deep bow.
“My Lady Gwendolyn, I congratulate you on your marriage.” The formidable knight knelt before her and lowered his head. “I swear to you my loyalty and, if necessary, I will protect youwith my life.”
The earl’s other knight, his brown hair secured behind his neck with a strip of leather, knelt beside the other warrior. He lowered his head in deference, and repeated the pledge.
