Binding Vows(69)

“Lord Duncan, the eldest son of the Laird, is marrying on the ‘morrow. ’Tis good ye came today for these.” He set the items she requested down on the counter.

“Quite lucky for me then.”

The man kept up with the gossip, happy to have someone who didn’t know his stories. “Now if only his daughter would pick a husband. Methinks she may find one during the celebrations. The village is filled with so many eligible men who would suit.”

“How old is the lass?”

“Almost an old maid if ye ask me. She is twenty and one on her last day marking her birth. Why Laird Ian has not bound her to someone is always a question asked at dinner tables.” He looked up and caught Grainna’s gaze. Confusion crossed his brow and she felt his skin start to crawl. You should 204



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squirm you lower than life bit of a man. Grainna shook his trance away, realizing she had slipped into his mind without trying to.

He moved away in obvious discomfort. She would have to be more careful in the future.

They bartered with a bit of her jewelry, and because it’s worth was more than what she had purchased, he gave her some coin.

She walked the streets, keeping her eyes and ears open. She didn’t fear any of the MacCoinnich’s coming into the village with the wedding the next day. So she took advantage of her luck and gathered more information.

An eligible daughter? A wicked smile curved at her lips. And dwelling only a few miles away? She contained her laugh. How poetic.

Grainna stopped at the smith and bartered for a pot. There she saw a young woman, not more than eighteen, smiling up at a man dressed in knight’s clothing. She eavesdropped on their conversation.

“So, ye are Matthew of Lancaster. I’ve heard many stories of ye, my Lord.”

“Ahhh.” The knight searched the busy street.

“I’m sorry, ye have me at a disadvantage, and ye are?”

“Alyssa.” She flashed him a smile.

“’Tis a pleasure.” He gave a quick bow, his eyes skirting to the street, obviously looking for someone.

Alyssa smiled and leaned into him enough to show off the curve of her breast and caught his eye with the necklace she wore. In whispered tones she asked, “I hope ye will not be leaving so soon after the wedding. I would like to get to know ye better.”

Grainna noticed the exchange and the small amount of power the woman used over the man.

Quietly and with swift skill, Grainna slipped into the man’s mind. Yes, the woman speaking with him was Druid, and she was using her gifts on him.

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From what she could tell, the lass was looking for a husband, and wasting her time with the man in front of her.

“Maybe I could stay for a day or two.” His hands twitched at his side. “Or return at a later date.”

“That would be lovely, Sir Lancaster.” She touched his arm, sending a path of red to his cheek.

“Until then.”

Grainna gathered her things and walked out of the village from the opposite way she came. Once hidden in the woods, she picked up her cane and moved with speed to the horse she took from one of the gypsies.



****

With a little help from Ian, the sky cooperated the next day. The ceremony was to take place outside, overlooking the field of green where benches had been prepared so the guests could sit. The maids tied strands of heather together forming sprays of flowers everywhere. Duncan had been kept from seeing Tara since they parted the night before. It was a frustrating custom Tara wanted to follow, even if it wasn’t his.

He adjusted the plaid of his clan until it sat perfectly upon his frame. His bride had jested with him about his kilt. She would see him in it for the first time when they exchanged vows.

The beauty of a kilt was the ease in which he would bed his wife. Perhaps he would take to wearing the kilt more often if his bride enjoyed his pursuits in the outfit. ****

Tara fidgeted while the women, maids, and in-laws fussed over her. They wove tiny flowers in her hair, and a small wreath sat like a halo on top of her head. The effect was magnificent.

The amber gown, adorned with pearls and gold ribbons, made every feature Tara had glow. The 206



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gown dipped low, and her breasts thrust high enough against the bodice to enchant her husband.

The full, flowing sleeves cascaded over the tips of her fingers.

The most defining part of the gown was the material made entirely of silk, impossible to come by in this time and place. Someone told her, Duncan and Fin brought it back with them from one of their trips into the future. Its worth was immeasurable and admired by all who saw it.

The servants filed out of the room, leaving only Lora and Myra.

“Stunning,” Lora said, looking at her reflection in the mirror. “You will make my son a fine wife.”