Artair saluted her with his tankard. “That’s right, Bethane, but then you knew this day would come, didn’t you?”
“It was inevitable,” she admitted. “Now I will go tell Addie and Honora we have a couple getting married tonight in a private ceremony.”
Cavan scratched his head. “Who will perform the ceremony?”
“The bishop,” Artair said with a smile and a nod to Bethane.
The older woman turned to leave, then stopped and looked once again to Artair. “You have a question to ask me. I will do my best to answer it for you.” She turned then and disappeared up the stairs.
“How does she do that?” Cavan asked. “Know things before people even say anything?”
Artair shrugged. “She’s a wise woman.”
“Or maybe it’s magic,” Lachlan said, and nodded at Artair. “Our brother here believes in magic now.”
Artair draped his arm around Cavan’s shoulder. “So does this brother, and we don’t want to be the only ones who were struck by the magic of love.”
Cavan caught on and nodded. “That’s right. So let’s cast a spell of love on Lachlan.”
Lachlan laughed.
“Get away from them,” Neil shouted, having emerged from the shadows.
The three brothers looked at him.
“They’ve been bewitched and now they try to bewitch you. Run before it’s too late and you find yourself saddled with a witch of a wife,” he shouted, and ran from the hall like a madman, his arms waving up over his head as he continued shouting.
“You know, that’s the first smart thing that man has said since his arrival,” Lachlan said, laughing.
Zia stood in the sewing room while her grandmother altered the dark green velvet dress that Addie had gifted her with for her wedding ceremony. A few tucks and a sizable hem and it was perfect for her. The velvet fell in swirls from beneath her breasts, and her long sleeves ended in points over the back of her hands. Velvet slippers completed the outfit.
While the dress was more beautiful than any garment she had ever owned, it was her father who dominated her thoughts.
“He knew me at first sight,” she said, standing still while her grandmother worked on the hem.
“Of course he would. You are the picture of your mother.”
“So he remarked, though I saw bits of him in me as well,” Zia said proudly. “And he spoke with such pride of Mother and her healing skills, and knew I possessed the same. He told me how Mother told him their first child would be a daughter and that she would be a healer.”
Zia placed her hand over her stomach.
“You know the same. Have you told Artair?”
Zia smiled and shook her head. “Not yet, but soon enough.”
“Your father will be pleased. He will have the family long denied him.”
Zia’s smile faded. “But he will never be able to openly acknowledge me as his.”
Bethane comforted Zia with a hug. “He protects you by not letting anyone know you’re his daughter.”
“I know,” Zia said sadly. “It’s just that he has suffered so much, and merely because he loved my mother.”
“But think how much joy this night will bring him. He will unite in marriage his daughter, whom he never knew existed, to the man she loves. While it may seem a small consolation to you, I believe he thinks otherwise. Besides, he also saved you from being condemned a witch, and now with his blessings no one will ever dare try to accuse you of witchcraft again.”
Zia wiped a lone tear from her eye. “I don’t want him to leave. I want him to stay so I can learn more about him and tell him more about me, and hear stories of him and my mother…And I want him to hold my newborn daughter in his arms and know that it all started with the love he had for my mother, and how that love will live on forever.”
“I think he realized that when he laid eyes on you. Besides, he won’t rush off now that he knows who you are. He will delay his departure, claiming an illness perhaps, that the healer advises would best heal with rest, not travel.”
Zia brightened. “I forget how wise you are.”
“Do not worry. I will remind you.”
Zia laughed along with her grandmother.
A soft knock sounded at the door and Honora entered. She looked beautiful wearing a purple gown her long hair tucked up with combs.
“I made this for you while the babes slept.” Honora handed her a crown made of heather.
Zia blinked back tears, placed the lovely gift on her head, then hugged Honora. “Thank you so very much. You must be well, for you look beautiful.”
“I feel wonderful, thanks to you,” Honora said. “But this night is not about me. It is about you, and everything is ready, and everyone waits in the solar.”