ever would.
Yet, in spite of his actions and treatment of her and in spite of her father’s, she seemed disinclined to marry him.
Had she set her sights higher, then?
As the reality struck him and the old wounds of pride surfaced, he knew he needed a drink. He pushed off the wall and made his way to the hall. Expecting something to mark the occasion of the wedding of the laird’s daughter, instead he found the hall as it had been during other meals.
Although he would sit at the high table, he searched for a servant and asked for something stronger than either the ale or wine he usually drank. He drank the first bit down and held out the cup for more...and twice more. He waved the man away then, for a drunken groom would just give wagging tongues something else to pass around.
Rob moved aside and watched as the hall filled and the priest arrived. The portly man almost waddled as he walked, making his way to the table at the front of the hall and greeting several MacKays along his path. From what Rob could see, the priest seemed good-natured and well liked among those here. When the lord and lady arrived and took their seats, he knew it was time, both to make his way there and to take this step that would change his life forever.
The laird greeted him and introduced him to Father Darach before sitting and motioning for them to sit. The lady conversed quietly with the priest at her side and the laird nodded to those at this and the other tables.
Nothing in his words or manners gave any sign of the scene above stairs a short time ago. No clue to what the man truly felt or was about. Rob’s gut told him something was going on here, but outwardly all seemed well enough. When silence filled the room, he looked up and saw that everyone’s gaze was turned to the stairway in the corner.
Eva MacKay had arrived in the hall.
He was on his feet before he knew it and on his way to escort her before he could think of it. A blank expression momentarily changed as their eyes met, and Rob watched as surprise gave way to a glimmer of fear. Even that disappeared and the neutral countenance was back in place.
Rob stopped several paces from her and took his first true look at the woman who was his bride. The simple but elegant gown outlined her lush curves, and he noticed the way her long, unbound hair fell over her breasts and ended just above her hips. His mouth went dry even while his palms grew sweaty. Her hair was pulled away from her face with only a few curling tendrils outlining her face, and the graceful lines in her jaw and neck were revealed to him.
This woman before him was new to him.
Not the runaway disguised as a boy.
Not the ill woman, pale and wan.
The only signs of her recent illness or injury were the dark circles beneath her ice-blue eyes and the limp.
The limp. He strode to her side and bowed.
‘Lady Eva,’ he began. ‘Should you be walking on that ankle without help?’
A blush rose in her cheeks, giving her more colour than he’d seen there before. Even when she sat naked in her bath. Rob tried to forget the images of her creamy skin and feminine curves as he offered his arm to her now. How she had managed to make it this far, he knew not, but he knew she was trembling and in pain. Far more than just her ankle now.
Though he’d tried not to look at her back when he’d stormed into the room at the sound of her screams, he had. It was all he could do not to tear Ramsey MacKay apart with his bare hands. The welts were wide and deep.
‘Here,’ he said, placing his arms behind her with a care to those areas struck and lifting her from her feet.
She did not resist him. She did not say anything. Eva just sat in his arms, unmoving, as he carried her forward. If he was not mistaken, some of the women watching sighed as they passed. Although done for another reason, if it would smooth things over, that was good, too.
Rob stopped near the table and placed her on her feet, never letting go of her completely. He nodded to the priest who walked towards them and then glanced down at the woman at his side.
And in that moment, he realised his life was about to change in ways he probably could not even dream of. More than his decision to support Brodie. More than his work or position in the clan now that they had been successful and ended the threat to it.
More than any step he’d taken in his life up to this moment.
So why was his gut telling him to turn and walk away?
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