Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

S tellan walked slowly down the stairs to the great hall. It had felt good to spend his first night in his own bed since returning wounded from MacKay. Anders waited at the bottom of the stairs, ready to assist him if he needed it. He was determined to prove he could handle himself. Most of his injures, the shallow ones Alber had inflicted with his sword, were well healed, a new set of pink scars decorating his torso, arm and leg. The arrow wounds were slower to close, but the healer judged them well on the way and dismissed him from her care, save for daily visits to allow her to watch for infection setting in.

Also at the bottom of the stairs, hands clenched over her heart, eyes wide, Mariota stood waiting for him. Each day, she became more beautiful to him. More precious. Not just for her care of him during the last sennight, but for the love she bestowed so fully and openly to him. The wisest decision he had ever made was to switch places with Anders and escort Mariota back to MacKay. There, he'd learned he loved her and did not want to live without her, and she felt the same for him.

"Finally ready to break yer fast, are ye?" Anders chided. "'Tis time for the midday meal and ye arrive all slugabed."

"Dinna listen to him," Mariota advised with a laugh as he reached the floor and she came into his arms. "'Tis only a little past sunup."

"Either way, I'm hungry," Stellan told her and turned her within his arms. He walked her to an empty table, Anders following behind.

In moments, food and drink arrived. Anders must have signaled from behind his back, Stellan mused. "Thank ye, brother. I am truly famished."

"No doubt, having spent a sennight subsisting on cider, ale and broth."

"And bread and stew and honey cake," Mariota added. "Ye'll get no sympathy for that last."

They passed the meal in pleasant conversation, interrupted by well wishes from everyone walking by until Stellan could eat no more. "'Tis time," he told his twin.

"Da is waiting in his solar."

"Let's go see how angry he is," Stellan said and stood.

"I'm the cause of this. I'll stand with ye," Mariota offered.

Stellan shook his head. "Nay, lass. This has to be between our da and us. 'Twas my decision to make the switch. Ye were no' involved."

"I was! If no' for me, ye wouldna have done any of what ye did. Ye wouldna have made the trip, nor risked yer life."

"I did what I wanted— what I needed to do to keep ye safe. I will answer to the Sutherland for that."

He knew he'd won when her shoulders dropped and she turned her gaze on Anders. "Ye, too, then?"

"Aye, of course. We'll be fine. Da will yell at us, and may put us on duty cleaning out the stables, but we willna be harmed."

"He'd best no' or the might of MacKay will fall upon him."

Anders laughed and held up a hand, then cut off the laugh when he saw the determination in her eyes.

"She's impressive, is she no'?" Stellan asked, grinned and stood. "Let's get this over with before Mariota sends for Seamus."

He leaned down and kissed her soundly on the mouth. "Stay here. Likely ye'll be able to hear most of what is said," he told her.

"Hmmmph," she replied and crossed her arms. "If I hear steel sliding, I'm coming in."

Anders laughed again. Stellan gave her a grin and joined his brother walking toward the solar.

"Are ye truly ready for this?" Anders asked, concern on his face now that Mariota could only see their backs.

"Aye. Let's get this over with. The sooner we do, the sooner I can be married."

Their father stood when they entered. "I'm glad to see ye on yer feet, son," he said by way of greeting, and gave Anders a nod. "Ye may remain standing while ye tell me what the hell ye were thinking."

His tone remained mild, but Stellan wasn't fooled. Their laird was displeased. He explained how the attraction he felt for Mariota would not let him simply give her to Anders and how they arrived at the decision to impersonate each other.

"I thought ye had grown past such nonsense," their father told them. "I thought ye had grown enough, and learned enough by now no' to indulge in such risky behavior. Ye do ken how wrong this could have gone. How wrong it did go," he added with a glance at Stellan's shoulder. "And ye compound it by riding home alone though ye kenned there was trouble in the area. Not to mention bringing the MacKay heir back to Sutherland. What do ye think her clan will do about that?"

Stellan exchanged a glance with Anders. "About that— she's nay longer the heir. She was the laird, but she's nay the laird, either. Nay longer. She's free to wed with me."

Sutherland spluttered. "What the hell did ye do to clan MacKay while ye were there?"

Stellan laughed, groaned with pain, then told him the story, sparing only a few details such as his time in the storeroom with Mariota, but including what happened to her father and how she decided to abdicate in favor of Seamus MacKay.

Sutherland was silent for a few moments after Stellan finished speaking, then he surprised him, taking a breath and saying, "Well done, lad." Then he, too, laughed. "Yer lass already told me much of that. They're stronger and have a good man in charge. Ye will have a good wife to help ye here, as well." He glanced at Anders, who nodded his support. "Ye may wed when ye can laugh without groaning in pain," he added to Stellan. Now go, rest and finish healing."

Stellan took that as a challenge and began light sparring sessions as well as eating more and spending time in bed under the healer's watchful eye. But it took days more, days he spent with Mariota, with Valkyrie, who did lose a talon, but no more than that, much to his relief— for her sake and Mariota's.

He left the practice field one afternoon to find Mariota teaching archery to his cousin Nan and to Anders' friend Brìghde, along with several younger lasses. Once they finished, she came to him and admitted she'd begun on her own, but had sought and received permission from his father.

"Ye talked to my da about this, too?"

"Of course. He and Anders have been very good to me while ye recovered."

"What else did ye talk about?"

"Many things. Much about MacKay, as I'm sure he told ye. 'Tis natural that he would be curious. About Da and Alber, Da and me, Seamus and why I chose him to succeed me, MacKay and Domnhall, and ye at MacKay."

"So he learned all ye ken about MacKay's capabilities, did he?"

"I kenned what he was doing. He learned what he needed to ken."

The idea of his father interrogating Mariota irritated Stellan. Anders laughed when he complained to him about it.

"Ye have it all wrong, brother. Mariota didna tell Da anything she didna wish to. And in the process, he became as smitten with her as ye and everyone else. Never fear, yer betrothed guarded her clan as she needed to, but ensured two things: that Sutherland would be an ally to her friend Seamus as laird of his clan, and that she'd be welcome in yers."

"She didna need to do that. She already was."

"Aye, but she's a wiser lass than Da kenned. He was impressed."

"Good."

"Especially since he's none too pleased with us at the moment."

"Aye, well, he'll get over that."

"He will, but Mariota just smoothed the way."

Mariota had never been so happy. Stellan was so much better that his father had decreed that their wedding could go forward. She was in love and no longer in danger, and she had made friends here who would help her prepare for her new life.

Despite hours tending Stellan before he healed well enough to leave the healer's care, despite spending as much time with him since as his training and duties as heir allowed, she had explored every nook and cranny of Dunrobin, learned a great deal from hawk master Ian while flying Valkyrie, met most if not all of the people, and found a few favorite places within the keep. One of which was the weaver's, where the woman was close to finishing the four-seasons tapestry Mariota had seen at an earlier stage before her da had taken her back to MacKay.

"I could spend hours staring at it," she told the weaver during her latest visit. "Ye have a wonderful talent and skill. I look forward to seeing everything else ye create."

"Ye are too kind, milady," the weaver told her, blushing at the praise while her gaze lingered on the work she was finishing with the final touches of embroidered flowers in the spring and summer quadrants.

Mariota noted several new additions since she'd last seen it, including tiny leaping fish in the firth depicted along the eastern edge. "Nay, ye are justifiably proud of yer handiwork. I look forward to displaying it." She took her leave then. She'd agreed to meet Nan, who promised to help her find something suitable to wear to her wedding. Mariota didn't believe there was time to make anything new, but perhaps they could alter something. Nan and Brìghde had both offered to find dresses that might fit her.

They were waiting for her in the great hall when she entered the keep. "There ye are. Ye must have been visiting Valkyrie again," Brìghde said, greeting her.

"Nay, the weaver. She is finishing that most amazing tapestry we saw when I first came here. I canna wait for everyone to see it. But look at what ye have brought! How many dresses to ye think one lass needs to be married?"

"Only one, but the right one. And I ken the rest of yer belongings just arrived from MacKay, but I doubt ye have a gown to wed in since ye never mentioned having anything suitable."

"'Tis because I never wanted to marry. I never imagined I would, no' truly," she said as she mounted the stairs. "I ken that sounds daft for a lass who was the laird's heir, but I fought my da on every betrothal he suggested."

"Ye were waiting for the right betrothal. The right man," Nan told her as Mariota opened the door to her chamber.

She stopped and gaped at what confronted her. The trunk she'd had all her life to hold her clothes sat at the foot of her bed. But on the bed lay other things she didn't recognize. "What is all this?"

"There's a missive on top," Nan pointed out.

Mariota picked it up and read. "Gifts from MacKay to celebrate my wedding," she read. "Linens and other things made by the crafters in the clan. And Seamus sends along things that belonged to my mother, dresses and jewels, he says, that he found in the laird's chamber when he moved in. Da never told me he'd kept anything of hers." She started digging through the piles until she located a velvet bag.

"We should let ye explore this in peace," Brìghde said. "Ye may now have a suitable dress. But if nay, Nan has made something for ye."

Mariota blinked back tears and turned to her friends. "Nan?"

"No' made exactly. Altered and embroidered." She moved aside two other dresses on her arm and held up an ivory silk kirtle embroidered down the front and around the hem with leaves and flowers.

"The seasons! How did ye find time to copy the weaver's work?"

"Nan is an artist with a needle," Brìghde told her, making Nan blush.

"Do ye like it?"

"'Tis beautiful!" Mariota wiped away tears. "I canna believe ye did this for me."

"I recalled how much ye liked the tapestry. It seemed the proper theme for yer wedding. The weaver was good company while we worked, each on our own projects."

Mariota hugged Nan, careful not to crush the kirtle over her arm. Then she turned to Brìghde and did the same. "I dinna ken how to thank ye. Either of ye."

"We must ensure ye can wear it. Do ye want to try it on now, or look through the things Seamus sent ye."

"Try it on, of course."

"It laces, so if 'tis long enough, it will fit, I think," Nan said, slipping it over Mariota's head after she removed her day dress and stood in her chemise. "Aye, it nearly brushes the floor." She fussed for a few minutes with laces at the back and sides, then stood away and let Brìghde hold up a polished metal mirror.

"'Tis beautiful on ye," Brìghde told her.

Mariota found herself speechless. "I've never worn a dress so fine. So beautiful. Thank ye, Nan, for yer thoughtfulness. Brìghde, too. I dinna ken what to say."

"Yer face says it all," Nan told her. "I'm so pleased ye like it."

"I love it. Stellan will, too."

Nan chuckled. "Another reason for the lacing. He willna have to rip it from ye to remove it."

"What! He wouldna dare."

"If he does, I'll repair it," Nan promised with a wink. She loosened the ties so Mariota could remove the dress, took Brìghde's arm, and they left her to explore the rest of her treasure.

Mariota sat in her shift on top of her trunk, contemplating the fabrics and handiwork piled on her bed. She reached over and plucked the jewel bag from the midst, opened it, and let the contents spill onto her lap. She couldn't believe her da had kept the keepsakes she saw and never said a word to her about any of it. There were not many pieces, but the ones she saw were exquisite. Three rings, three gold necklaces, one set with gems, even a chatelaine's chain belt of hammered silver, rings for keys empty and waiting for her new station. Seamus could have kept all of this and never told her of the treasure her da had hid from her. But her friend had always been honest with her, even in this.

For one heart-stopping moment, she missed Seamus and MacKay, but then she heard Stellan's voice through her open window from down in the bailey. He was laughing at something one of the other men said. She slipped the rings on, one by one, then took them off again, her gaze on Nan's gorgeous needlework. MacKay was her past. Stellan Sutherland was her future.

Stellan stood on the kirk steps awaiting his bride and squared his shoulders. Aware of all the eyes on him, he fought not to wince as the arrow wound pulled. It was taking longer to heal than the one in his arm, but he'd kept that fact from everyone except the healer, who could see the difference when she examined him. Right now, he didn't care about the remaining pain. His focus was on Mariota, gliding toward him on Seamus MacKay's arm, seeming to float on the air, looking like an angel in a white dress embroidered with colorful flowers and leaves. His summer angel. Someone had arranged her hair and placed a garland of summer wildflowers and roses on her head. She looked young and fresh. The smile she gave him made his heart leap with more joy than he'd ever felt in his life.

She was about to become his. He had to be the luckiest man alive. He wanted to dance, to sing, to hold her in his arms and never let her go. And he knew he needed to get his exuberance under control or the entire clan would think he'd been into the ale.

Truth be told, he, Anders, their father, and younger brother Cameron who'd come from Clan Rose for the wedding with his bride and laird Mary Elizabeth Rose, had shared a toast, but only one. This exhilaration filling him was all for Mariota, and for the life they would share, the family they would make, the clan they would shepherd into the future. He couldn't wait to begin it all with her.

When she reached him, Seamus leaned over and kissed her cheek, then gave her hand to Stellan. That kept Stellan from punching Seamus for kissing his bride. But Mariota arched a brow at him, as if reading his mind and warning him to behave. Stellan grinned and leaned in to kiss her fully on the mouth. There, Seamus couldn't do that.

Seamus gave him a knowing grin and stepped away. Over his shoulder, Stellan saw Anders roll his eyes. Did everyone know what he'd been thinking?

He didn't care.

"I didna ken Seamus would come and stand in for yer da," he whispered to her as he turned her to face the priest. "'Twas good of him."

"'Twas his obligation," she reminded him. "As the MacKay laird, to attend the wedding of the former heir and laird, to be wed to an ally's heir. 'Tis all very important to our clans, and to our part of Scotland."

"Aye, of course 'tis," he said, reflecting the gravity with which she regarded the ceremony.

"Besides," she added, giving him a cheeky grin, "he was my best friend. Of course I wanted him here."

Stellan chuckled at that. "I understand, lass. Ye did well."

The priest cleared his throat, signaling that he required their attention. The ceremony was blessedly brief. After Stellan slipped his mother's ruby ring on her finger, they went inside the kirk for a short wedding mass. Through it all, Stellan fought to control the elation that filled him, thinking it would not be fair to Anders. Stellan feared their link, which had recently connected them from a great distance, might now at such close quarters overwhelm his twin. And it seemed unfair to force such strong emotion on his brother.

At last, the priest finished, and it was time to sign the register, to record their marriage for all posterity. Stellan signed, then handed the quill to Mariota, careful not to drip ink on her lovely dress. She gave him a smile, and her whispered, "Thank ye," spoke to that as much as his courtesy.

It was done. Stellan took the hand his wife offered him, overcome with relief and joy that she was his. He wanted to shout, to run, to kiss his bride and never stop.

But the Sutherland laird, arm in arm with the MacKay laird, stepped forward to announce the new husband and wife, then led the way into the great hall for the wedding feast.

"There is a sight I never thought to see," Mariota told Stellan as they crossed the bailey. She nodded at his father and Seamus. "They look like old friends."

"Old drinking buddies at the very least," Stellan said in agreement.

"They'll achieve that this night, I have nay doubt," Mariota said as he handed her up the steps into the keep and walked her to the high table. "I hope ye'll agree with me to get through this celebration as quickly as we may," she said while he seated her. "We have much to accomplish in private."

Stellan's pulse kicked up at her intimation. He quickly took his seat beside her. "Is now too soon?"

Mariota laughed at that. "I fear 'tis so. We must eat and perhaps dance before we can slip away."

Later, while Mariota danced a women's dance with the other lasses, Anders dropped into the seat beside him.

"How are ye?" Stellan was truly concerned how his feelings were affecting his brother.

Anders gave him a penetrating look. "I have sensed enough from ye to understand how true love feels. No' lust, no' just an enjoyable tumble with a different lass every night. Ye have taught me that I've been missing the most important thing in life. Love. I will carry that knowledge with me until I find a bride of my own. Ye have shown me that only one lass can make me feel what ye feel for Mariota."

"Anders, I had nay idea." Stellan didn't know whether what he felt was shock at his brother's admission or joy that he now would seek out and find the very thing that lit Stellan's life from the inside out— a love like he had with Mariota.

Anders sat back and raised his cup. "Enough of that. I promise to get drunk or go hunting and get far away. Or both. All of those." He gestured into the middle of the great hall. "How do ye like that? Cameron brought Mary with him. See? She's dancing with the other lasses. We have three lairds attending yer wedding. That might be some kind of record."

"I think ye are well on yer way to fulfilling yer promise to get drunk, brother. Have a care ye dinna drink too much."

"I'm nay so far gone as I will be. Never fear, several lads are going with me to ensure I dinna fall from my horse and break anything. Congratulations, brother. Ye have a fine wife. Ye are a lucky man."

"I hope soon ye will be as lucky," Stellan told him.

Anders shrugged and stood. "A quest for another day, brother. Have a successful night. I'm on my way— elsewhere."

Stellan watched him go, weaving a bit but still in control of his movements. As long as Anders had men with him, he would be well, but it still worried Stellan that he felt he had to take these measures. After a moment's thought, he realized Anders was doing it as much for his sake as for his own. For Stellan's privacy. And Mariota's. In that moment, he could not have loved his brother more. Their twin connection had brought them closer together than most siblings could ever imagine being, but there were limits. Anders recognized that and was taking measures to give Stellan the space he needed.

"Fare well, brother," he said softly as Anders left the great hall. "I'll speak to ye tomorrow."

Mariota returned to him breathless from the dance and grinning. She put a hand on the back of his chair and leaned in close to his ear. "'Tis time? I saw Anders speaking to ye."

"Aye, lass, 'tis time."

"Good." She stepped back to let him stand, then took his hand.