Page 70 of The Highlander’s Dangerous Desire

Ewan followed his brother down to the well-lit hall that was decorated to serve as the place for the wedding ceremony to take place. He and Grace had considered holding the ceremony out in the garden, but Grace had wanted to make sure Niamh was as comfortable as possible. The Lady MacDuff was over seven moons pregnant, and unable to stand very long or walk very far. She and Alistair had actually come using a modified carriage, rather than on horseback.

Grace’s uncle, on the other hand, had outright refused. Grace hadn’t shared the letter her uncle had sent in reply to her announcement that she was marrying a Highland laird, but Ewan knew the man had refused to attend his niece’s wedding. Grace had been sad, but when he’d asked, she’d smiled and kissed his cheek, and said it mattered very little to her.

Ewan took a deep breath and walked up to the altar to stand beside the priest who would perform the ceremony. Alistair, Devlin and Malcolm came to stand beside him as his witnesses. On the other side of the carpet, Niamh waited by a chair placed so she could sit whenever she needed to do so. The bagpipes began to play, and Ewan turned toward the door, his heart hammering in anticipation.

Then Grace appeared, and Ewan forgot to breathe.

Grace surveyed the fit of the dress she, Sorcha, and Niamh had made. It was soft, cream-colored linen, decorated with embroidery of MacTavish colors and small tracings of symbols in purple.

Purple, the color of mysticism. A color Sorcha said she was gifted enough to wear. She would never be as powerful as the witch of MacDuff Clan, but she had her own gifts of intuition and healing.

She wondered what her uncle would have thought of such things. The thought brought a pang of sadness, as it had ever since she’d received her uncle’s reply to her letter telling him of her plans to wed Ewan.

Her uncle had not only refused to come to the wedding, but had declared that she was officially disinherited, cast out from the Lancaster family. She might have regretted it more, but she was too full of joy for what had come afterward, and for what she was walking toward.

Niamh had claimed her for Clan Cameron. She would walk down the aisle as Clan Cameron’s adopted daughter, and then into her new life as Lady MacTavish, wife of Laird Ewan MacTavish, formally MacDuff. Knowing that, her uncle’s rejection did not sting as sharply as it might have otherwise.

“Are ye ready?” Sorcha’s melodious voice made her turn. She’d originally hoped that Niamh would walk beside her, but her friend was so large with child, Grace had suggested she wait with the officiant instead.

Catriona joined them, standing as Grace’s third witness. She had been helping Sorcha teach Grace healing, and in the process, the four ladies had formed what promised to be a strong friendship. To Grace’s delight, Sorcha had begun to join them, not only at her cottage in the wooded glen where she lived, but also at MacDuff Castle and MacTavish Keep.

Together, the three of them gathered their small bouquets of heather and fresh flowers, then made their way to the meeting hall that had been decorated with more heather and flowers as the ceremony chapel. Anne, serving as one of the door watchers, knocked on the door. On the other side, bagpipes began to play, and the door opened.

Grace began to walk toward the altar, but her eyes were drawn to one figure. Ewan, resplendent in the colors of MacTavish clan, the torc of a laird gleaming at his throat. His brother stood beside him, along with Devlin and Malcolm.

Ewan’s eyes widened when he saw her, and Grace blushed when she saw Alistair prod his brother in the ribs. A smile blossomed across her face as she realized he was staring at her, as entranced by her as she was by him.

Then she was at the altar, and Ewan held out his hand to take hers, and the music faded away.

Ewan took Grace’s slim hand in his own, his heart hammering. The music faded into silence, and the priest cleared his throat. “Who comes this day tae be wed?”

Ewan cleared his throat in turn. “I, Laird Ewan MacDuff-MacTavish, dae come this day tae be wed.”

Grace tipped her head up to meet his gaze, her smile brilliant and warm. “I, Grace Lancaster Cameron, dae come this day tae be wed.”

“And who comes tae stand as witness fer each o’ these persons?”

Alistair stepped forward. “I, Laird Alistair MacDuff, stand fer Laird Ewan MacDuff-MacTavish, who is me braither.”

Niamh stood and hobbled forward. “I, Niamh MacDuff, stand fer Lady Grace Cameron, who is me sister in heart.”

“Then I bid ye join hands, Grace and Ewan, as ye wish tae be joined in bonds o’ marriage here taeday.” Ewan tightened his grip around Grace’s fingers.

The priest began to intone a prayer. Ewan tried to stay focused on the words, but his attention kept straying to the radiant woman at his side.

Words were spoken. The witnesses attested to their character. Another prayer was intoned. Then “Laird MacDuff-MacTavish, ye may recite yer vows.”

Ewan took a deep breath. “Grace Lancaster Cameron, I love ye. Ye are the sun in the sky, and there’s nay one I would rather spend the rest o’ me days with. I promise tae serve as yer shield, yer sword, tae stand with ye in love, laughter, joy and sorrow, sickness and health, wealth and poverty, from now until beyond the veil o’ death.”

“Lady Grace, ye may recite yer vows.”

Grace inhaled, smiling into his eyes. “Ewan MacDuff-MacTavish, I love ye. Ye are the sun in the sky, and there’s none I would rather spend the rest o’ my days with. I promise to be the hearth for you to return to, to stand with you in love, laughter, joy and sorrow, sickness and health, wealth and poverty, from now until beyond the veil o’ death.”

The priest blessed both of them.

Then the words he had been waiting eagerly to hear. “By the power vested in me by all the Greater Powers that exist in this world and the next, I pronounce ye husband and wife. Laird MacDuff-MacTavish, ye may seal yer bond with a kiss.”

He leaned forward and claimed Grace’s lips with his own.