Iain said to the crowd and there was another loud cheer. “There will be food and drink and music and laughter. We will welcome your mistress properly and show her how glad we are she is now one of us.”
One of us.
While the crowd still cheered, Iain turned her toward him and kissed her. The roar echoing from the curtain wall nearly deafened her. “Welcome home, my Mairi,” he said as he released her.
The cheers still echoed in her head. A liquid heat surged through every inch of her.
Had her mother experienced this same elation when her father first presented her to the MacBrides? Before he found out about her gift?
With his hand against the small of her back, Iain led her through the heavy oak door to the keep. He paused in the large entryway.
Wide, stone steps led upward from the right side of the room. “Our rooms are at the top of the stairs,”
Màiri looked up, her gift refusing to tell if her life in the MacAlister’s keep would be a haven brimming with happiness, or a prison entombing her in loneliness and hatred.
He put his arm around her shoulder. “First, though, I will show you the hall.”
They stepped across the stone entryway and entered through a wide opening that took them to the great hall. The room was spacious and efficient, nearly twice as large as her father’s, with hundreds of torches hanging at close intervals to brighten the room. Beautiful tapestries decorated the walls, each depicting a part of MacAlister history.
On either side of the large room a fire burned in each of two mammoth hearths, creating a welcoming warmth that drew her forward. Clean and fragrant rushes covered the floor, with bits of heather sprinkled about to make the room smell pleasant. Two elaborately carved armed chairs sat on the raised dais, waiting for the MacAlister laird and his mistress to take their rightful places.
Iain led her across the room, his hand resting lightly at the small of her back. She wished he would not touch her so. It was difficult to keep her thoughts when he held her near.
“What do you think, mistress?” he asked.
“Your keep is magnificent. You should be proud.”
“The keep is yours to care for and make our home. The castle is mine so I can protect the home you will make for us and our children.”
Màiri lowered her gaze, her cheeks burning. She’d always dreamed of such a life, and until now, thought it had been impossible for her. Just as it had been impossible for her mother.
A small niggling of something she could not explain crept through her. At first she couldn’t begin to guess what it might be, then she concentrated on it until she could peel away the layers covering it and expose it.
Hope.
Could it be that there was a way to live a normal life among people who could accept her, and have a husband to care for her, and children to love her?
Màiri looked across the room. Kenneth stood against the wall next to Lochlan and Ruari with his legs braced and his arms folded across his chest. His concentrated expression told her he hadn’t come to a conclusion about her being here.
“Does your arm still pain you?” Iain asked, pulling her back from her dreams.
Màiri lifted her fingers from her arm she’d been absently rubbing and shook her head. “Nay. It is fine.”
“You will rest before the celebration. It has been a long day and you’re probably tired. I’ll have a tray sent up for you.”
He rose from his chair and helped her to her feet. The place where he touched her burned as if her flesh were on fire.
“This will be your home for all time, Màiri,” he said, rubbing the back of his fingers against her cheek. “The MacAlisters will never give you cause to regret you came here.”
Màiri swallowed past the lump in her throat. Everything she’d always dreamed of having seemed more and more within her grasp. All she had to do was… Surely it would not be that impossible.
“Come,” he said, leading her across the great hall. “I will
One of us.
While the crowd still cheered, Iain turned her toward him and kissed her. The roar echoing from the curtain wall nearly deafened her. “Welcome home, my Mairi,” he said as he released her.
The cheers still echoed in her head. A liquid heat surged through every inch of her.
Had her mother experienced this same elation when her father first presented her to the MacBrides? Before he found out about her gift?
With his hand against the small of her back, Iain led her through the heavy oak door to the keep. He paused in the large entryway.
Wide, stone steps led upward from the right side of the room. “Our rooms are at the top of the stairs,”
Màiri looked up, her gift refusing to tell if her life in the MacAlister’s keep would be a haven brimming with happiness, or a prison entombing her in loneliness and hatred.
He put his arm around her shoulder. “First, though, I will show you the hall.”
They stepped across the stone entryway and entered through a wide opening that took them to the great hall. The room was spacious and efficient, nearly twice as large as her father’s, with hundreds of torches hanging at close intervals to brighten the room. Beautiful tapestries decorated the walls, each depicting a part of MacAlister history.
On either side of the large room a fire burned in each of two mammoth hearths, creating a welcoming warmth that drew her forward. Clean and fragrant rushes covered the floor, with bits of heather sprinkled about to make the room smell pleasant. Two elaborately carved armed chairs sat on the raised dais, waiting for the MacAlister laird and his mistress to take their rightful places.
Iain led her across the room, his hand resting lightly at the small of her back. She wished he would not touch her so. It was difficult to keep her thoughts when he held her near.
“What do you think, mistress?” he asked.
“Your keep is magnificent. You should be proud.”
“The keep is yours to care for and make our home. The castle is mine so I can protect the home you will make for us and our children.”
Màiri lowered her gaze, her cheeks burning. She’d always dreamed of such a life, and until now, thought it had been impossible for her. Just as it had been impossible for her mother.
A small niggling of something she could not explain crept through her. At first she couldn’t begin to guess what it might be, then she concentrated on it until she could peel away the layers covering it and expose it.
Hope.
Could it be that there was a way to live a normal life among people who could accept her, and have a husband to care for her, and children to love her?
Màiri looked across the room. Kenneth stood against the wall next to Lochlan and Ruari with his legs braced and his arms folded across his chest. His concentrated expression told her he hadn’t come to a conclusion about her being here.
“Does your arm still pain you?” Iain asked, pulling her back from her dreams.
Màiri lifted her fingers from her arm she’d been absently rubbing and shook her head. “Nay. It is fine.”
“You will rest before the celebration. It has been a long day and you’re probably tired. I’ll have a tray sent up for you.”
He rose from his chair and helped her to her feet. The place where he touched her burned as if her flesh were on fire.
“This will be your home for all time, Màiri,” he said, rubbing the back of his fingers against her cheek. “The MacAlisters will never give you cause to regret you came here.”
Màiri swallowed past the lump in her throat. Everything she’d always dreamed of having seemed more and more within her grasp. All she had to do was… Surely it would not be that impossible.
“Come,” he said, leading her across the great hall. “I will
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