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We took the stairs in the turret until we got to the second floor. There we walked to the end of the hall where two men waited. One held out his arm and I threaded mine through his.
“Dinnae worry, lass. Duncan’s bark is more frightening than his bite. He’s a good man and will do right by ye.”
His voice was familiar, and I placed it as the same man who had talked Duncan down earlier right outside my room. They must have been friends or close family. We took a wide staircase, with intricate woodworking details where spindles should be, down to a crowd of people. The man who still held my arm guided me to the right, away from the crowd.
The hallway wasn’t large, and I could hear people chattering behind us.
“What is that she’s wearing?” a female asked, none too quietly.
“I heard her father ordered her to be fully covered.” Another woman snickered.
“She must be ugly then.” A man chortled.
“Her father wants Duncan to say ‘I do’ before he gets a good look at her,” another man said to a round of laughter, before I finally forced myself not to listen.
I was concerned about what would happen when Duncan did see me, but not for the reasons they assumed. When he learned I was an impostor, would I be hanged, or maybe sent to the guillotine? Or had that been invented yet?
We followed the hall to a T junction and headed to the right. We continued to the end, where double doors with gold crosses embedded in them stood open. Inside was a mini version of a chapel, from a large but simple wooden cross on the back wall to the line of pews that were more like benches. Seats were already filled, but it was the man who stood next to a priest in full garb, including an elaborately adorned cap, who caught my attention.
Duncan’s eyes were laser-focused on me as if he could see through the lace. My pulse quickened as I approached, leaving me to guess if it was fear of being caught or how handsome he was that left me breathless.
He wore a coat of blue velvet that matched the color of my gown. He also wore a sash-like item across his chest in the same plaid as mine. His dark hair was tied back, leaving his angelic face for all to bear witness to just how gorgeous he really was.
It was truly unfair how attractive he was, and for the first time, I felt a pang of insecurity that eclipsed my worry about not being the woman he thought I was. Would he find me pleasing? His modern self didn’t seem to take any more notice than acknowledging that I was a female. I pushed those stupid thoughts back, as they were not important. Yet the words of the gossips had sunk in.
My thoughts strayed when I found myself at the front of the room, standing next to the enigmatic man as he shifted to face the priest.
“My lord, the short or the long version?” the priest asked Duncan.
“Short.” His word was clipped, and it was likely obvious to everyone he didn’t want to be here.
I wouldn’t call myself overly religious. Though my mother had taken me to mass and confession on the regular, I hadn’t felt as bound to the practice as had she. I’d taken those times as pure enjoyment from being out of the house. Church or the market were the only times I’d been set free from the confines of my house, and always chaperoned by my mother. Most of the time, I’d been too busy people watching to pay attention to the teachings of our priest.
However, I knew enough to follow the ritual and kneeled before the priest when indicated. He spoke in Latin, which was a difference from my time and church, but I didn’t feel out of place. Except for marrying a man I didn’t know.
I stole a glance in my periphery and took in Duncan. His eyes were closed under the sweep of impossibly long lashes. If I’d been a woman with vanity, I’d be jealous. I followed that down the profile to his alpine nose to his generous mouth. Suddenly, the urge to kiss him hit me so strongly, I would have given the sign of the cross for how wicked I felt in this house of worship. Luckily, I stopped as I didn’t think that would go over well. I did quickly avert my eyes.
“My lady,” the priest urged.
“Huh?” I said, which wasn’t a noise a woman given the title “lady” should utter. Good thing it had barely been a whisper. However, I felt the burn of Duncan’s eyes on me.
The priest bent a little. “I’m sorry. I’m standing in for Prior Caton, who took ill. What is your name?”
