Page 20 of Only a Highlander Will Do

At Tormod’s absence, Fiona tried to hide her disappointment—a disappointment that made no sense. What did she care if he stayed beside her or not? She’d been the one to ensure that theirs would not be a conventional wedding.

Fiona fingered her ring as she caught sight of the Grey Lady across the chapel. Though she did not smile, there was a different sort of light in her eyes that gave Fiona the impression the Grey Lady was pleased with tonight’s events. With a nod of her head, the mist surrounding her swirled, growing more and more faint until she vanished in a burst of white light.

A shiver lifted the hairs on the back of Fiona’s neck as she stared at the empty space the Grey Lady had left behind. This woman, a ghost, was now part of her family too.

“I think our mother approves of your union,” Rowena said, bringing Fiona’s attention back to the two women before her. “My brother is pleased with the arrangement as well.”

Fiona frowned. How could Rowena tell that? Tormod hadn’t looked at her since the moment he’d stepped away to join the men. He’d accomplished the deed and had secured his revenge against his enemy by taking her as his bride.

“Can we take you upstairs and prepare you for your wedding night?” Gwendolyn asked softly.

“Nay!” Fiona said with more force than was necessary. At their surprised looks, she added in a softer voice, “We both agreed there will be no joining tonight or anytime soon.”

The women shared a look. “Tormod agreed to this?” Rowena asked, her lightly arched eyebrows rising.

Fiona nodded. “I made that a part of the agreement in order for us to wed.”

“I wondered how Tormod got you to willingly take vows before the minister.” Gwendolyn looked pleased with the results. “Marriage is a fine institution and Tormod is a very fine man—but then I could be biased since he looks very much like my own Alastair.”

While Rowena and Gwendolyn laughed, Fiona’s gaze strayed to the other side of the chapel and her husband. Tormod MacLeod was a heady mix of brawn, masculine splendour, and power. While he possessed all those things, he hadn’t forced himself on her, tortured her, or threatened her in any way, all of which she had expected when he’d first captured her in the forest. Did that make him honourable or more so than other men? Gwendolyn seemed to think so.

Tormod still had to prove himself to her. He’d made her a promise to talk with a solicitor on the morrow on her behalf. Perhaps when he did she might see him in the same light that Gwendolyn wanted her to.

Until then, too much remained unknown about this man who was now her husband.

*

Tormod raised the mug of ale to his lips and drank deeply while trying to keep from turning in Fiona’s direction. Even without gazing upon her, he could smell the scent of flowers that lingered in her hair as it cascaded over her shoulder in a loose plait with wild flowers tucked in the weave. Her intoxicating green eyes, beautiful features, and rounded curves would be enough to turn even a blind man’s eyes. Yet, she was now his, forevermore. His body tightened at the thought.

Theirs would not be a typical wedding night, however, not until he could get a contract written that guaranteed her ownership of Ulster Castle upon her father’s death. He had accepted her stipulation because not only did he want to best Alex MacDonald, he also truly wanted more of the companionship he felt when Fiona was near.

Tormod finished his ale and set down his mug, moving to Callum’s side. “Your solicitor friend, Geordie. Is he still here? Since we supped in family tonight, I did not see him.”

Callum noticed Tormod’s empty hand and pressed his own mug into it. “Here, take mine. You might need the fortification for what lies ahead tonight with your new bride.”

“I am perfectly able to handle my wife on her wedding night without drink.” Tormod handed the ale back with a scowl. “It is urgent that I speak with Geordie.”

“Just looking out for you, Brother. They say you only get one chance to make a good first impression.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Tormod clenched his fists. Callum was purposefully trying to annoy him. “Where is Geordie?” Tormod asked a third time.

“Geordie went to Glen Brittle to visit his aunt.”

“Damnation.” Tormod flared his fingers. “When will he be back?”

Callum shrugged, then took a drink. “Didn’t say.”

Now that Fiona was his, he wanted more than the casual interactions they’d had so far. He wanted to feel her soft body pressed against him, wanted to feel the rush of her blood as it pulsed in her veins while he explored every inch of her delicate skin with his lips.

His manhood tightened, reaffirming his desire, but he’d made her a promise, and this promise he had to keep.

Tormod would have travelled to Glen Brittle tonight to find the solicitor if he could have, but that would have been unwise. It was far too dangerous given the intensity of their conflict with the MacDonalds right now. He would have to wait until daylight, and he would need the laird’s help in order to see this through.

Tormod hurried to where Alastair stood talking to Graeme. “Brother, I need your assistance with a matter of utmost urgency.”

“As I have need of yours,” Alastair replied in a serious tone. “You realise that this wedding has made our role as Guardians of the Isles that much more difficult.”

“I do, and I am very sorry for that.” Alastair wanted peace amongst the clans. With Tormod marrying Fiona tonight, whatever fragile peace he’d forged would be shattered the moment the MacDonalds found out. “What was I supposed to do? Send the woman to her death?”