Bound to the Highlander(20)

In the next moment, the ceremony was over and she was walking down the aisle with James to form a receiving line for their guests. Her hand tingled where he had touched it, a lingering heat warming her. As they stood at the entrance -way, waiting for the first guests to reach them, he leaned in close. His warm breath excited the sensitive skin just below her ear, his voice rich and low.

“You are lovely, Lady Aileana.”

He gave her a deep penetrating look before accepting the good wishes bestowed upon them. Her lower belly coiled. She couldn’t think when he looked at her like that.

She smiled with grace, but inside she trembled. Her senses were filled with his rich unbearable masculinity. His scent, still leather though he wore less of it today, drew her towards him to inhale more. While her mind told her to keep him at a distance, her body wanted him to devour her much like his eyes did. She was all a-flutter from only standing next to him. She tried to envision him like any other man she knew, but each time he said ‘Thank you,’ or ‘We’re glad you are here,’ she was drawn closer. She tried to remain unaffected because if she didn’t check herself, she could become swept up in his charms, like every other woman in the room. The ladies approached him like puffed up hens, making their way to the coop’s most appealing cock. Well she wasn’t anyone’s silly hen.

Her cheeks warmed and her ears were hot all of a sudden. She would not act like them. She wouldn’t need to. Maybe their marriage would be in name only with limited interaction between them.

Of course!

It made so much sense she almost laughed out loud. They needn’t live together. Each could remain at their own home and perform duties as necessary. It was a marriage of convenience, that’s all. This must have been what her uncle had intended all along.

The freedom such an arrangement provided made her smile. Over the past few days, control over her life slipped away like a selkie into the deep waters of the sea and she mourning on the shore. That was before. Now she was filled with renewed strength and purpose. She would not mourn her freedom, she’d still have it. Aileana smiled somewhat to herself. Anyone paying close attention would have thought her the blushing bride-to-be.

Still, the crowd that followed them from the chapel to the castle was far too pleased for her liking. Their cheers coupled with the piper’s lively and playful march might have been infectious at another time. Tears stung her eyes. They acted on tradition, yet a celebration did not seem fitting, and there were three days of this unnatural gaiety to endure yet.

And still no Gawain. She’d seen neither hide nor hair of him since his awful discovery. She’d worked hard to push him from her thoughts over the past days, focusing on anything else to avoid her shame.

Her silent partner walking next to her didn’t help. She should say something to him—but what? ‘Have you supported any black-hearted monarchs lately, my lord?’ Or maybe, ‘Help a rotten king destroy anyone’s family yet today Lord MacIntosh?’ Gwen would tell her she was better than that and under normal circumstances she would agree. These events didn’t bring out the best in her, that much was certain.

In the dining hall, James sat at the head of the table which made matters worse. How could she continue this pretence? Her irritation spiked again.

“The meal looks delicious, Lady Aileana.”

Her head snapped up. The MacIntosh was staring at her. Agony was suffering through this situation in silence—torture was a forced idle conversation with him.

“You make your uncle proud with the lusciousness of this spread: smoked salmon, kippers, devilled eggs, and wild pheasant. Did you know these are all my favourites?”

“My uncle—”

“Would have been honoured by your compliment, m’lord,” Father Addison said.

Later she might thank the priest for his interference, but he was on thinner ice than ever. She pushed her food around on her plate and kept her gaze downcast.

“Iain Chattan was an honourable man and a gracious host,” someone further down the table said.

If they started toasting her uncle, she would explode.

“He loved to hold feasts like this one.”

She needed saving from this madness.

“His favourite part was always dessert!”

Did they wish to break her?

“Lady Aileana, you must have many wonderful stories of your uncle to share.”

Oh God.

She couldn’t take one more comment and pushed her chair back, rising to her feet. Sheena Fraser entered the dining room at the same time; she had a saviour, after all.

“Lady Aileana, how wonderful it is to see you my dear.” Aileana rushed toward the woman, her warm embrace a much needed crutch. She wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape from her eyes.