AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When the maid left, Olivia went to a trunk and pulled out a jade pendant with a curious etching in the middle. The Celtic Dara knot, a symbol of strength, had been her mother’s, an heirloom from her Irish grandmother. She slipped the leather thong over her head, and tucked it into her bodice to rest right on her breastbone.
Leaving the room, she followed the sound of fiddling and came to the great hall where dozens of people gathered, all in their best tartans and gowns.
When she stepped into the enormous hall, she found that the benches had been rearranged, clearing a space in the middle. Ó Riagáin stood upon the dais, his face void of emotion tracing the room before his gaze rested directly on her. Amid the merry music emanating from a fiddler and a piper, she could not breathe for a moment.
He moved from his seat and as the imposing warrior he was, Ó Riagáin exuded power beneath his vibrant kilt of red and gray and fur mantle. He had one foot planted forward on sturdy legs while his jeweled claymore hung at his hip. His plaid was draped over one shoulder, clasped by a large brass brooch and his sporran on the other leg. He was a picture of masculine beauty to behold.
He descended the dais and came to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. Ten-score-and-one emotions flashed though his eyes—some she understood, like regret, self-recrimination, and doubt—but there were many others Olivia did not.
“There are a few people I need to introduce ye to,” he said, steering her towards a set of older men and women, who were leaders of a clan at the south edge of the island. The laird and his lady were nice people, and they spoke over light matters before Ó Riagáin steered her to another set.
Olivia met more people, lords, ladies, and children in two hours than she had in her life, and while questions lingered between her and Conner, she was happy to pretend they were not there.
Inside the great hall, the people feasted and drank to their heart content. Mead and ale flowed, while the fiddler and piper, accompanied by a harpist, played near the crackling fire pit in the center of the hall. Bolts of silks, caskets of gold and precious herbs, weapons, and even cattle came as wedding gifts.
“Laird Ó Riagáin,” a man in a dark gray kilt and bright sapphire brooch bowed. “I am Angus McKenzie, an aide of His Majesty the King, he has sent ye his best wishes and three prized Arabian Horses as his gift on yer pending nuptials.”
“Thank ye,” Ó Riagáin bowed. “It is truly appreciated and please give our regards to the king.”
Olivia added a few words just as the halls doors opened and her father strode in. Delighted to see him, she excused herself, went to him and hugged him tightly. “Yer here.”
“Of course, I am,” Niel replied, his voice a bit thick as he embraced her as well. “A carriage broke a wheel. That is why we were nay here sooner.”
As she pulled away, her father caught sight of the thong around her neck and gently fished the pendant out. His thumb swept over the pendant while his eyes took on a wistful tone. “Aye, I remember this, yer maither wore it just before her wedding to me too. Does it help, lass, wearing this?”
“I’m closer to maither in a way,” Olivia replied. “Sometimes, I feel as if her strength is with me.”
“That’s good then,” Niel nodded. “Pardon me, lass. I need to have a word with someone.”
When her father went off, she turned as a new tune rent the air. Looking at the people laughing and eating, she grew lost in their happiness. She was so intent on watching the celebrations, with her thoughts turned inward, that she did not notice when Ó Riagáin was at her side.
It was only when he spoke that she realized he was close enough that their arms could brush. “Are ye enjoying the festivities?”
She glanced up and found him staring at her, his eyes clouded from any decipherable emotion. Like Olivia, Ó Riagáin wore a thick fur mantle to ward off the chill and the span of the gray fur made his shoulders seem even broader than usual. She turned away, with a roil twisting in her stomach; she did not know what to do.
“Tis pleasant enough,” she replied quietly, unable to find the words she truly wanted to say.
She was in a pensive mood this eve and did not wish to fight with him. During the celebration, there were no words, no apologies shared, little eye contact—though Olivia felt his eyes on her frequently— and no ease. The tension between them was starting to exhaust Olivia. Her new life was draining her. She wondered how she would be a year from now—little more than a bitter, empty husk?
She looked over and found Ó Riagáin looking tired and drawn, but as still as a rod of iron jammed into the ground. Was this going to be their married life?
God forbid.
Chapter 8
With an unexpected calm, Conner waited outside the doors of the kirk with two of his elders standing beside him. By the numbers clogging the sides of the street, it seemed that the entire Ó Riagáin clan had turned out in their numbers to witness the long-awaited wedding between their laird and the McKoy lass.
He knew most were there to support them but a few were there to see if it were true. How could it be that the two clans—once enemies for so long—were now about to be joined?
As the moments passed by, Conner was becoming impatient as he craned his neck to peer over the crowd. He started to worry that something was wrong, that Oliva had fallen ill or that she had changed her mind when murmurs came from the crowd.
The crowd had parted to let Olivia and her father through. Conner understood the reaction of the crowd when he saw her. The Arisaid was lovely, the dress a pale gray, but the tartan wrapped around her was green and yellow—his colors. The brooch was a delicate one; it was made of silver and fashioned like Ó Riagáin’s crest, but had a large ruby in the middle. Her hair, done in ringlets, cascaded down her back and was held from her face with another single ringlet.
He walked down the steps and into the crowd to meet her in the middle, and then held out his arm for her and she grasped it.
“Laird McKoy,” he bowed his head.
“Ó Riagáin,” Niel said gruffly before he placed a soft kiss on Olivia’s cheek.
