The priest’s voice carried through the hall as Connor spoke his vows, and before he knew it, they were married.
Connor turned to Violet. Her cheeks were flushed, and her fingers were still curled lightly into her skirt.
Hiswife.
The thought moved through him with dangerous force.
Soon, they would have to kiss. For now, though, instead of worrying too hard about the inevitable, he was going to choose restraint.
For now.
13
The priest’s words were still echoing through the hall when Connor started to feel the first prick of impatience.
A moment ago, he had stood beside Violet with the vows between them, the priest before them, and every witness quiet enough to hear the fire settle in the fireplace. Now the stillness broke into murmurs, soft blessings, shifting feet, and the first stir of people preparing to come forward.
Violet was hiswife.
The word landed with more force than it had any right to.
He had used it before to irritate her, to test her, to make the arrangement real enough that she would stop treating it as an argument she might still win. Now it was no longer a strategy they could implement. It waslaw. A fact. A title every person in the hall and the entire village would use when they looked at her.
Lady Moore.
Violet stood beside him, composed enough to fool most people. Connor had stopped beingmost peopledays ago, though. He studied her like a wound that wouldn’t leave him alone, so he could see every single twitch, subtle or otherwise. He watched as her hand tightened once on her skirt and then relaxed.
Her chin remained lifted, but her breathing quickened as the first guests stepped forward. She knew what came after the vows. Every bride knew. Every witness in the hall expected some sign that the marriage had sealed more than a bargain.
A kiss.
Thedreaded moment.
Connor looked at her mouth before he could stop himself. He wanted it. That was the biggest truth in the room.
He wanted the taste of her again, the startled heat she had given him in the training yard, the moment when her fingers had traveled up his shirt and she had forgotten to pretend he did not affect her. Every witness in the hall would think he had the right now.
He looked away from her mouth and offered his arm.
“Come, wife,” he said quietly.
Her lashes fluttered at the word.
She set her hand on his sleeve because the congregation was watching, and because she knew how to use courtesy when it suited her.
“That sounded far too comfortable on yer tongue,” she murmured.
“It is a short word.”
“Short wordscanbe dangerous.”
He almost smiled. It would have been poorly timed, and the hall was already too interested in them.
He guided her forward, with his hand light on her back, once the first elder approached. The touch was careful and firm enough to lead her through the crowd, but also gentle enough not to push her into a conversation she didn’t want to be a part of. He felt the stiffness in her spine all the same and the slight jolt when someone called her Lady Moore.
“May the marriage bring peace to Clan Moore, me Laird,” the elder said, bowing his head.
“That is the purpose,” Connor replied.
