Whatever change had taken place inside of her over the past few days, it was radiating all over her face.
I cannae really believe that’s me.I daenae even recognize meself.
“This mirror must be a magic one,” she laughed.
Violet was standing behind her and adjusting the dress. “Why is that?” she asked absentmindedly, as if she were only half listening.
“Because I daenae think I’ve ever looked quite so…” Beatrice shrugged and touched her fingers to her face. “Just the way I look in this dress…”
“Aye, ye look like ye’re a day away from becomin' Lady MacSween.”
“Nay, it’s more than that. I daenae ken how to say it.”
Violet rested her chin on Beatrice's shoulder, the two of them studying her reflection together. Beatrice saw Violet’s eyes move sharply over her, trying to figure out what she had not been able to express. After a moment, her eyebrow arched, and she smiled.
“Beatrice, what ye’re seein' is simple to explain.”
“Och? What is it, then?”
Violet hooked a finger under Beatrice's chin. “Ye’re seein' a lass in love.”
“Is Lady MacSween ready for the ceremony?” Tyler asked as Leo poured him a glass of whisky, before they sat across from each other in the study.
“Aye, she has her dress and the other lasses to style her hair. What else could she need?”
Tyler tilted his head, then brought the glass to his lips and took a long sip.
Leo waited for him to speak, as there was clearly a topic he wanted to bring up.
“I suppose I should have asked if her parents would attend,” Tyler said, carefully wiping his mouth. “I ken that her father wasnae thrilled about the marriage bein' recognized by the elders.”
As if I care what that miserable old man has to say.
“They have been invited,” Leo answered. “If they choose nae to attend, then that is their prerogative.”
“A terrible decision, if I do say so meself.”
“Aye, but then we ken that Patrick Whitmore is prone to makin' terrible decisions.”
Leo was already itching to be with Beatrice again. He had given so little thought to her parents or anyone else, for that matter. Violet and Shona had kept the two of them apart, giggling as if it were some kind of game to deny him and his bride their carnal desires. He had seen a pleading look in her eyes when they pulled her away towards her chambers, cackling over their shoulders that the two of them would have plenty of time for lovemaking soon enough.
But we could spend every moment up until the handfastin' ceremony in bed.We could present ourselves in front of the council spent from lovemakin' and all that happier for it.
He knew their moment was coming, and he tried to be as patient as possible. It was a struggle to be without her even for a couple of days. Now that they had consummated what had been simmering between them, it was as if Violet and Shona had torn the air out of his lungs, the blood out of his veins.
“Tomorrow is the ceremony,” Tyler reminded him when he rose from his seat. “Ye only have to wait one more day.”
“Dear God, let me make it till then,” Leo mock-prayed.
But the hours ticked by interminably slow, and the fire that burned inside of him grew higher and hotter with each passing second.
Beatrice had never seen the courtyard look as ethereally gorgeous as it did the night of the handfasting ceremony. There were dozens, maybe over a hundred, torches lit and burning with an effusive, halcyon radiance as clansfolk, friends, and loved ones gathered together in patient waiting.
I’ve been the most patient among them, though.The days I’ve been waitin' have seemed like years.
Above them, a battalion of banners flapped in the wind, the clan colors proudly displayed for everyone to see.
The sight of those colors, of the family and kin she was about to belong to, sent a rush of excitement through her. She had no misgivings about setting aside the name Whitmore, one that meant quite a lot to her through her childhood, and becoming a MacSween.
