She straightened her back and approached her bedchamber door.
“Wait! You can’t go without your necklace,” Gwen said.
It was a final reminder of who she was. A double string of freshwater pearls was fastened at the front by a polished oval, amber pendant, set in gold. The piece had been in her family for many years, yet she’d never had the opportunity to see anyone wear it. Now it was hers.
She squared her shoulders and opened the door to find Andrews pacing. He did not smile, but offered his elbow to her. She curled her fingers around his arm and looked straight ahead, away from his apologetic gaze.
“Lady Aileana, please let me say—”
Her back straightened. “No, Andrews. You know what I want to hear from you and until you’re ready to disclose everything, I’ll only hear estate business. Right now, I have a duty to perform.”
“Yes, m’lady,” Andrews bowed his head low.
They walked down the back stairs and around the side courtyard to the family entrance of the chapel where Father Addison waited.
“Ah, there you are my child. You are quite the lady of the castle today. Your elegance is unmatched m’dear.”
She was in no mood for his smooth words. “Do not pretend with me, Father. We both know I am playing into a lie here today. Must we give voice to it as well? Sinners we are, the lot of us.” She almost found his shocked expression amusing. Almost.
“M’lady!”
She raised her chin. “Does it not say in Matthew, ‘…you must give an account on judgment day of every idle word you speak. The words you say reflect your fate; either you will be justified by them or you will be condemned.” Let him stew on that one.
“M’lady, I assure you, we commit no sin here today.” Father Addison’s voice was low.
“You expect me to stand before God and vow to honour this arrangement, knowing I do not believe in it. How is that not a sin?” She placed her fists on her hips. “And if we meet our end in the next moment? Are you prepared to face the consequences of your actions?”
“Lady Aileana, my soul is secure, as is yours. You have no cause for concern in that regard or any other that I’m aware of. Now, we should get started. We may begin posthaste if you wish.”
“Is his Lordship here already?” That couldn’t be. ’Twas quite unlike a man of his elevation in the world. Her pulse picked up a notch.
Father Addison drew in a breath and smiled. “Why yes, he’s been here for quite some time.”
Gwen and Aileana exchanged a brief, but meaningful look. Her anxiousness was not about one man. That was all she needed to remember.
“Azalea, amaryllis, aster…”
Gwen’s words spoken low in Aileana’s ear served to calm her a little as she entered the small chapel. Several voices were audible from out in the sanctuary, but the rich timbre of James MacIntosh was unmistakable. The skin at her nape tingled.
The moment they entered, all eyes fell on her. Hers locked with his. She followed Father Addison to the chancel and turned to wait for James while the guests located their seats. A younger looking and grinning version of James jabbed him in the ribs prompting him to move up to where Aileana waited. The brother. Gwen gasped somewhere behind her.
The sight of James threatened to knock her on her behind again. He wore a red velvet brocade tunic with draped sleeves. His black hose was barely visible between the skirted garment and knee length leather boots. The crest on his chest was quartered with lion, ship, heart, and boar. His hair was tied and bound with leather straps which served to accent the strong lines of his face. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him even for a second. Her insides seemed to scatter in all directions at once.
He sauntered toward her like a predator stalking its prey. With every step her heart pounded faster as he focused all his attention on her. His stare seemed to hold such purpose that she wanted to shield herself from its scrutiny. He did not look pleased at all. That questioning, almost angry, expression was difficult to understand; still, her heart drummed.
Father Addison said something about commitment and honour. Aileana concentrated hard on the priest’s words to little avail.
She placed her left hand on the bound scriptures as prompted. James covered it with his and squeezed. The resulting jolt from the strength and heat of his hand set her pulse racing. His gaze burned into her. Hellfire was not as hot as that man’s stare.
Father Addison prompted her to repeat his words. They flowed from her with little comprehension as James’s gaze traced the complete outline of her face and settle on her mouth. His eyes glowed like the day he had almost kissed her on the road. She leaned forward as though an invisible rope tugged her toward him. Gwen had asked her earlier if she was in danger. Perhaps she was after all.