At first light, they’d return to Duncreag.
Grim had said that between Flora Munzie and Greer and his Gregorach, enough folk would be on their way to bring Yule to Archie. Any further journeying was unnecessary. Indeed, they now worried too many people would arrive before they reached the stronghold.
That Archie might send them all away, ruining their efforts before they’d had a chance to flower.
It was a risk they couldn’t allow. So they’d make haste to ride home.
Breena relaxed in Grim’s arms, realizing that for the first time she’d thought of Duncreag as her home.
It was a new and comforting prospect.
And offered so much promise that she turned her head and kissed Grim’s shoulder. “I love you, with the whole of my heart.”
Chapter Seven
“Gone and married, have you?” Archibald MacNab, proud Highland chieftain of Duncreag Castle, surely the most splendiferous cliff-top stronghold in all broad Scotland, jammed his hands on his hips. Smoke haze from the nearby great hall swirled around him, bringing the earthy-rich scent of peat and the delicious smell of roasted meat and other tempting fare. A wall torch blazed behind him, edging his head and shoulders in orange-red so he could’ve been standing at the entrance to hell and not in the heart of Duncreag. Looking fierce, he glared at Breena and Grim through narrowed eyes. “I’m thinking my ears have failed me, I am!”
“Nae, they haven’t.” Grim didn’t back down. “You heard us right enough.”
“It is true, my lord.” Breena offered him a smile, the knowledge making her heart thunder. She could still hear their sacred words, see the warmth in Grim’s eyes as he’d looked at her with so much love and longing. It’d been the most wondrous moment of her life.
She stepped up to Archie, touched his arm, wanting him to feel her excitement. “We spoke our vows in the old way.” She glanced at Grim, tingling just to see him standing so close beside her. To know that he was hers and she was his, that he’d claimed her for his own, and so proudly. “I have never been happier, lord.
“Not in all my days.” She squeezed Archie’s arm, then released him, returning to Grim. “We are blessed, and at such a special time of the year. The gods have smiled on us.”
“Humph!” Archie thrust out his chin, his eyes like slits. “The ancients ne’er did aught good or their way wouldn’t be ‘old’ now, would it?”
“Men of Nought abide by such laws.” Grim crossed his arms, calm as ever.
“This is Duncreag,” Archie shot right back at him. “My lands and my castle, lest you’ve forgotten. The only ancient creeping about here is me.”
“We know that, sir. I mean—” Breena clapped a hand to her lips, her cheeks heating.
“See?” Archie leaned in, his brows wagging. “No one respects me, I’m aye saying.”
“But you are loved, sir.” Breena’s heart sang to know it was true. “To be sure, men think highly of you, yet regard alone wouldn’t have brought so many here to celebrate Christmas with you. They came because they’re your friends.”
“Pah!” Archie shook a finger at her. “Dinnae go telling such tall tales that you tie yourself in a knot you cannae undo, lassie,” he huffed, looking pleased all the same. Resplendent in his lairdly finery, his sword even gleaming at his hip, he appeared every inch the proud Highland chieftain, well satisfied to be hosting a Yuletide feast.
“Thon guests”—he jerked a nod toward the hall’s arched entry—“are here because Cook decided to empty my larders and because of all the free-flowing ale. And maybe because no pipers in all the Highlands play better than mine.”
“Is that so?” Greer MacGregor appeared out of the shadows, clamped a hand on Archie’s shoulder. “Some might say my Gregorach pipers hold that honor. Truth be told, it’s their pipes gracing our ears just now.” He grinned when Archie scowled at him. “Your musicians are taking a wee break, if you’d be hearing the rights of it.”
Archie snorted. “I thought the skirling was a bit off.”
The MacGregor chuckled. “Always needing the last word, eh?”
“I’m for speaking no words with the likes of you,” Archie spluttered. But he nodded gruffly, his lips twitching in an almost-smile when Greer snatched two cups of ale from a passing servant and thrust one in Archie’s hand. “If I make an exception this night, it’s only because it’s Christmas. And for these two young folk who’ve been up to such mischief.
“Fetching you, and who kens all, from every glen within a hundred miles.” Archie brought his cup to his lips, taking a healthy swig.