Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

Leona stood in the middle of her tent, dressed in her gown, every inch adorned with intricate lace and delicate details. She was almost too afraid to move as if she might ruin such a lovely dress. The excitement within her was bubbling and undeniable, but there was something else beneath the surface. She wanted to marry Caelan, but a lingering unease tugged at her heart.

She gazed into the mirror; her reflection staring back was filled to the brim with a mix of emotions. Leona knew she looked as beautiful as she could, even though she was in awe of herself at the moment, but her hands refused to stop shaking, and her body felt light.

The flap to her tent rustled, and she turned.

"Ye look bonnie, lass," her father said, his usual gruff voice a whisper.

He was dressed well, wearing the Ainslie Clan's colors proudly and plainly. The streaks of gray in his beard seemed less noticeable now, since his face and hair had been trimmed neatly. His eyes softened as they lingered on her.

He had always been an emotional man, but never when it came to her. But to see him now, he was as close to tears as she had ever seen him.

Leona met his gaze, and a soft smile escaped her lips. "Thank ye, Father," her words shook like a quake erupting from her throat.

He took a seat at the table and poured himself a glass of ale, or so she thought. Instead, he held the drink out to her. Leona hesitated but took it, unsure what to expect from him next. "I ken that I forced this upon ye," he admitted, his voice was tight– as if he did not wish to admit it himself.

She sat across from him at the table. "Aye, ye did."

Leona meant to just take a small sip of the ale, but she knew that if she would finally confront her father about what had happened, she would need something to quench her dry mouth. "Ye did," she repeated as she set the glass down. "But I am nae upset that ye did."

His expression melted, softening further. He poured her another drink, and his mouth formed a tight line as he wrestled with his own thoughts and how he should speak to her. "Ye have met yer match in Caelan," he sighed. "He is a good man, and I daenae dislike him. He is lucky to have such a bonnie, clever lass like ye."

Leona stared across the table at him, almost not believing his words. Was she already drunk and imagined it all? Was it possible that Bram Ainslie was having a tender moment with his daughter?

"Oh, daenae look at me like that," he scoffed.

Leona reached out across the table, placing her hand on his. Her eyes were stinging, but she would not cry; she was far too put together for such. "Thank ye, Father."

With a tired smile, her father stood. He extended his hand, palm upturned. "Are ye ready, lass?" he asked.

Leona took a deep breath; the lingering feeling of unease had slowly dissipated, much like a morning mist under the warmth of a rising sun. She nodded, taking her father's hand. "Aye, I am ready."

It was rare for Caelan to feel as if the air had been pulled from him, but there was no hiding his speechlessness. His eyes fell on her as he stood there, watching in absolute awe with each step she took.

Leona's gown flowed around her, swaying and rippling with the slight breeze. It hugged at her middle, accentuating the curve of her waist and the swell of her chest. Her hair had been braided and pinned, with a soft hint of gentle blue flowers speckled within the waves of sunlight.

Her eyes were on him in a way that left him feeling as if no one existed but them. All those in attendance could have vanished into dust, and he would not have noticed it at all. All that mattered at that moment was the two of them.

A string of pearls around her neck glimmered in the light. It was tight on her slender neck, settled just above her collarbone. They glistened like stars in the night against her skin.

As she drew closer, their eyes never wavered. He knew that Bram was guiding her, about to give her away to him, but he could not care to even glance in the man's direction. He was only made aware of his presence when he stepped aside. Leona commanded his sight, and the only thing that pulled him away was the sound of the priest beginning to speak.

Whatever words were said, he did not know or care. But there was something about the tone, the meaning behind it all, the moment that he did not realize he had been waiting for. Everything came down to this.

They stood there, illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun.

Jamie stepped to his side, holding a length of beautifully woven cord in his hands. The cord itself was a work of art adorned with intricate patterns and silk that matched the sunset. Caelan knew it needed to be perfect no matter the cost. He was not a sentimental man, but this was enough to make his chest feel tight.

"This," Jamie spoke, addressing both Caelan and Leona, as well as the crowd watching. "Is nay just a piece of string, but it is the representation of these lives comin' together. It is a symbol of paths, twisting and weaving, intertwining and knotting."

Caelan held out his hands, his palms upwards. Leona gently placed hers on his; her skin was as soft as a feather against the roughness of his fingertips and thick knuckles. Jamie carefully placed the cord over their skin, creating a gentle loop around their wrists.

Leona did not look away from him. There was so much behind her beautiful eyes that seemed to pull him in like a tide. Before them, Jamie spoke words older than legend, words he had been rehearsing most of the day. With each pause, he gently tightened the cord.

After the ceremony, he could barely stop himself. He stepped forward, their hands still joined, and craned his neck. Their lips met in a tender, lingering kiss. "And now," he whispered to her. "I am yers in all manners."

Leona flushed. Something almost slipped from her tongue, but she seemed to think otherwise. Caelan knew he would have to ask her about it later tonight.

As he stepped back, pulling away from the kiss, cheers erupted around them. Jamie was the loudest, clapping and hollering. He smacked Caelan hard on the shoulder, grinning ear-to-ear. His smile turned on Leona, and Jamie bowed to her, deeply and truly. "Lady MacNicols, it is me honor to serve ye."

Caelan chuckled, his eyes falling onto the cord that still tied them together. He liked this, the closeness and the binding that felt almost ethereal. Above them, the stars were beginning to shimmer against the dark navy sky.

He leaned forward, his eyes lowering to find hers again.

Leona took a staggering breath. "Husband."

"And soon I shall serve ye as yer husband," a sly smile played on his lips.