Page 28 of The Highlander’s Tempting Touch

“’Tis a simple ceremony with a priest, ye speak yer vows, and afterward there’s a feast and singing and dancing. The clan-folk bring little gifts and treats tae offer the newly-wedded couple. Then the lady retires, followed by the new husband.”

That didn’t sound too bad – until the last part.

“Ye look tired.” Catriona’s gentle words brought her out of her thoughts. “’Tis fair early in the evening yet, but ye might benefit from an early supper and retiring. Taemorrow’s goin’ tae be a busy day, and a long one.”

Niamh swallowed a gulp of mulled wine. On the one hand, she was weary, and the idea of an early supper before going to bed sounded wonderful. On the other, she felt dirty from days of travel, and restless besides. “I’d never sleep.”

“I can give ye a tisane fer that, if ye like. I’ve a preparation that will help ye sleep and wake up refreshed rather than groggy.”

“That sounds lovely. But first, I’d like tae tak’ a hot bath and…” She hesitated. “I’d like some writing materials, if there are any tae be had. I need tae send word tae me faither that I’ve arrived safe.”

She had materials in one of her packs, but she was too weary to want to go digging through her luggage.

“A hot bath is a simple matter tae arrange, and as for writing materials, I’ll fetch ye some from me stores when I get yer tisane.” Catriona finished her mulled wine and stood. “Rest fer now, and I’ll send the servants with the bath and yer night clothes, then return with yer other things in a little while.” Catriona bent and gave her a quick embrace. “I’ll have everything fer ye within a candle-mark or two. And dinnae fret, I’ll make sure ye’re nae disturbed, so be at ease.”

“Thank ye.” Niamh sank back into the warm, comfortable chair as Catriona turned away and disappeared through the door.

She was still nervous, and it was jarring to be in a castle that was not her father’s. She’d never been to another castle for an extended length of time. Her father had considered it too dangerous with all the unrest on the border.

Still, Catriona was kind. And if the healer was to be believed, she had kin-folk here as well. She might be able to learn more of her mother’s history from others in the MacLean branch of the clan. She knew so little of her that any information would be welcome. Perhaps, in time, she could even find a way to be comfortable there.

She still wasn’t happy about her impending marriage, but she did have to admit that, from the sound of it, there were worse situations she could have landed in. And, if Catriona were right, worse men to be married to than Alistair MacDuff.

She was still thinking about that when the first of the maids appeared with her nightdress and things for her bath.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Weddings, as far as Alistair was concerned, were a headache. From the moment he rose that morning, he was bombarded by considerations, questions, and people who demanded to know his thought on things he had absolutely no opinion on.

Ewan had handled much of the preparations, but there was only so much he could do. The cooks still wanted to make sure the food for the feast was acceptable. The tailor and seamstress still had to make sure his clothing for the wedding fit properly. Servants were sent to make sure his boots were pristine, while others scrambled around decorating the Great Hall, and the side chamber where the ceremony would be held.

Ewan had called a priest to bless the ceremony, and Alistair had to spend almost a candle-mark with the man, discussing vows and the ceremony. In the end, he told the man to keep it short and simple, and sent him to see Niamh. He was sure she would need the man’s counsel more than he did.

Around all that, he had to supervise the protective measures being taken to defend against a possible attack by the MacTavish Clan. He had no doubt that Fergus MacTavish knew about the wedding. The blackguard had spies everywhere, and sharp-eyed scouts as well. If nothing else, his men had probably seen Alistair with Niamh in the tavern, and Fergus would guess the reason as soon as he had the information.

And, of course, there was all the paperwork, reports, and other duties that had been neglected while he was traveling.

The weather was decent, with thinner clouds and a wind that was bracing, but not frigid. They’d still hold the ceremony inside, to avoid falling afoul of the temperamental Highland weather, but the slight promise of sunlight was somewhat cheering.

By mid-morning, the castle was filled with noise and the smell of roasting meat, baking breads, and the flowers and heather used for decorations. The ceremony was set for just before they settled in for an early afternoon meal, which would be a feast that stretched well into the supper hour.

Ewan found him in his study a candle-mark later, poring over the papers and scout reports that had been left for him. “Ye need tae be getting ready.”

Alistair stared at him. “The ceremony’s nae fer some time. It doesnae tak’ so long tae prepare.”

“Longer than ye think, tae make a proper showing o’ it.” Ewan came around the desk and put a hand on his shoulder. “Ye’re a laird, and ‘tis yer wedding day. Ye already ken ye cannae just show up in yer working clothes, but did ye think ye could show up with yer beard a tangled mess and yer hair lookin’ like ye were out ridin’ in a windstorm?”

Alistair scowled at his brother. “I hadnae thought much o’ it one way or another.”

Ewan snorted. “That much is clear. But there’s a proper way tae be doin’ things, and ye should follow them, little as I ken ye want this marriage.”

Alistair heaved a sigh. He was surprised when Ewan stepped away, to return with two glasses of spirits. His brother handed him one without a word, and he sipped it gratefully. “’Tis too soon.”

“Aye. I ken why ye think that. But that’s nae all that’s troublin’ ye.”

“Ye ken very well what’s troublin’ me.” He wasn’t going to speak of curses on his wedding day. To do so would be to invite ill-luck, and he felt he already had enough of that.

“Ye have feelings fer the lass?”