Page 33 of The Beast

“Good,” Beatrice said and took a shaky breath. “I am about to be married. I can scarcely believe it.”

They went down the stairwell and turned to the left to a corridor that led to a small chapel. Inside people were already seated in the pews. The council members, Ewan, his wife Catriona, Stuart, and Gideon. There were a few staff members that she’d met and some villagers, she’d not met. Beatrice recognized the tavern owner and his wife, whom she’d purchased items from at the village square.

Caelan was there as well, he was seated with a man she expected by his similar features to be his half-brother. Finally, when she looked to the front of the chapel, she lost her breath.

Dressed in Ross colors of green and black, Duncan wore the plaid wrapped around his waist and draped over his left shoulder. It was held in place with the clan crest. His hair was pulled back into a queue, and on his feet were leather boots.

Next to him dressed alike, was Darach, who’d brushed his hair back to wear it like Duncan. The brothers made a breathtaking picture, one light, one dark, both standing proud, with matching serious expressions.

Beatrice looked to Duncan until his eyes met hers and his face softened. It was the reassurance she needed to force her legs to continue moving toward him.

When she reached the front, they stood facing each other as the vicar began speaking.

The words spoken over them were pure and beautiful, each syllable seeming to pierce her skin until reaching into every part of her. A sigh escaped her when Duncan’s eyes locked with hers and his strong voice repeated his portion of the vows. When it was her turn, Beatrice spoke in an even tone, hesitating only once to swallow as tears spilled down her cheeks. It was such a special moment, she did her best to convey to Duncan the depth of her feelings by not looking away as she spoke.

Once the vows were exchanged, the vicar allowed a kiss. Duncan pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss that made her smile. He looked to be at peace, not upset at all over the forced marriage and for that Beatrice was thankful.

As they walked out of the chapel, the people cheered. Once in the courtyard, those that had gathered clapped and called out congratulatory remarks.

Finally, they went back into the house where they were to toast to the marriage. According to Isobel, there were to be sweet cakes and meats for them to share with those attending.

Duncan took her elbow and guided her to the high board. Once she settled, he lowered next to her. There were pitchers of ale at every table, and everyone filled their cups.

Once it was accomplished, Darach stood and held his cup up.

“I wish ye both a good marriage and the blessing of many bairns.”

There were serious toasts and others that brought laughter as each brother stood and spoke. Lady Mariel was last, and she spoke wishing them happiness and insisted that she believed them to have been matched by God and therefore would have a good marriage.

Isobel could barely get the words out past her tears as she spoke for their family. “As representative of Clan Macdonald, I want to express how grateful we are for the connection of our clans, the strength Duncan and Beatrice’s marriage brings to both of our families, and the peace this union ensures. I too am thankful that my sister and I will live near each other. And I know my father and mother will be forever grateful for Duncan’s care of their daughter.”

Once the toasts were complete, Beatrice accepted a handkerchief so she could wipe her wet face. Duncan leaned close to speak into her ear. “How do ye feel?”

“Nervous, happy. Very nervous.” She met his gaze. “Ye?”

“The same,” he admitted.

His answer surprised her, but she was grateful for his honesty. That a man such as him, a seasoned warrior would feel anxious about things made her feel closer to him.

The festivities continued for several hours until it was time for the midday meal where roast duck with succulent root vegetables, along with freshly baked bread were served.

Beatrice acknowledged that by the time they arrived at Duncan’s home it would be late in the day.

“Are we to go to yer home after this?” she asked her new husband.

Duncan nodded. “Aye, yer sister informed me of yer family tradition of remaining close for fifteen days. I assume ye wish to continue it.”

“I very much do,” she answered honestly.

He did not reply, simply nodded to let her know he heard.

Despite the happy feelings, she wondered how long before he insisted she return to Keep Ross.

The travel to the other estate took less time than she remembered from her last trek there. Probably because, unlike her, the carriage driver knew the way. There were in one of the Ross carriages, pulled by two horses. Duncan’s horse was tethered to the back of the carriage.

Orla rode up front on the bench next to the driver, to allow the newlyweds time alone. However, as soon as the carriage began moving Beatrice fell asleep with her head on Duncan’s shoulder.

No sooner had she closed her eyes, did it seem he woke her to tell her they’d arrived.