Highland Moon Box Set

by Mac Flynn

  Maher set the bag down and opened the mouth to reveal a large bundle of white cloth. He took hold of the collar and pulled the dress from the bag. My hand flew to my mouth as I gasped. The wedding dress dazzled with the finest silk and wool produced by man and animal. The cloth shimmered in the bright light and caught the glistening beads brought from far-away islands and the handsome lace that graced the collar and cuffs. The dress billowed out and proudly displayed a train that would take both Davina and Eva to carry.

  "Do you approve, Lady Muira?" Maher asked me.

  Tears sprang into my eyes and I threw my arms around him in a tight hug. "I could never have dreamed of anything so beautiful!" I cried out.

  He chuckled and patted my back before he pulled me to arm's length. "Your good self deserves as much, but let us not count our gold pieces before the task is done. We shall see how the dress fits you." He turned to the door. "You both, will you come in?" Davina and Eva slipped inside, and Maher looked back to me with a devilish smile. "I couldn't resist showing the dress to you alone to see your approval."

  "And are you disappointed?" I teased.

  "Only if it does not fit," he replied.

  Davina and Eva assisted me into the dress, and I was dismayed to find that the small changes to my body made the dress tight in several spots. Maher stepped back and frowned as his eyes brushed over me.

  "I must have been half asleep when I read the measurements. . ." he mumbled. He shook his head and pulled a thread and needle from his bag. "But no matter. A simple letting out will fix many of these problems, and then you shall be the most beautiful bride in the world."

  While the fixes were performed Davina glanced out the window and frowned. "Such a pretty day, but I see clouds on the horizon."

  Eva glared at her companion. "Do not put a curse on the wedding by foretelling bad weather," she scolded her friend.

  "I cannot change the weather, nor make those clouds vanish," Davina argued.

  "But you can both stand behind your mistress and hold her train, for I've finished the alterations," Maher spoke up. He stepped back and studied me. "Please hold out your arms, Lady Muira."

  I did as was asked while my two companions took their positions behind me. Maher nodded.

  "That will work perfectly. Now will you practice walking across the floor?" he requested.

  I walked the length of the chamber with Davina and Eva behind me. The dress was so light I felt as though the material floated above my skin, and yet the cloth was warm enough that no autumn chill could penetrate the fine stitches. Maher grinned and clapped his hands.

  "Beautiful! Wonderful! You will be the most beautiful bride to ever be married within these castle walls!" he cheered.

  "That would be praise indeed," a voice from behind the closed door called out.

  Maher spun around to the door and glared at the wood. "My laird, it is bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding."

  "That is why I will remain on this side of the door," Tristan replied. "But I did wish to inform you all that the guests are arriving and in an hour we need the bride to make her appearance."

  "I shall ensure it, my laird," Maher promised.

  "Good. Until then, my love," Tristan called.

  "Until then, my husband," I teased.

  His footsteps retreated, and Maher turned to me. He wagged his finger at me as he stepped over to his large bag. "It is bad luck to refer to your betrothed as 'husband' before the wedding," he scolded me.

  I bowed my head, but my good mood meant my smile remained. "My apologies. I will try to be more careful."

  Another knock came from the door.

  "You're not wanted, my laird," Maher called to the visitor.

  The door opened a half foot and my mother peeked her head inside. "Nor a lady?" she teased.

  A reddish hue graced Maher's cheeks and he hurried to open the door for my mother. "A thousand apologies, Bean Keith. I thought you were our impish laird."

  She stepped inside and shook her head. "No, though I did see him down the hall."

  "And that is a good place for him to be," Maher commented as he shut the door behind her. "Now I am sure you are here to see your lovely daughter."

  My mother turned to me and her eyes glistened with tears. "Aye, but I never expected to find such a lovely young woman in her place." She strode over and set her hands on my upper arms. Her eyes swept over me and she sniffled. "How quickly you have grown, and how lovely you look!"

  "I am nearly as beautiful as you, Mother," I told her.

  She shook her head and brushed a few tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. "No, Muira, more beautiful."

  Maher stepped up to us and placed a hand on either of our shoulders. "Ladies, if I might interrupt this age-old argument, but the wedding shall commence in less than an hour, and though the dress is finished the bride must have her hair finished and her veil in place."

  My mother bowed her head. "Then I will step outside and-" I grasped her hand and shook my head.

  "No, please stay," I pleaded. I bit my lower lip and turned my eyes to the ground. "I. . .I must admit I am a little nervous."

  My mother smiled and squeezed my hand. "Then I will remain here and follow you down," she promised.

  The final touches were finished with not a moment to spare as a knock came from the door.

  "My lady, it is time," Leod's voice called through the entrance.

  I wrung my hands together, but Mother set her hand atop mine and smiled.

  "All will be well," she whispered to me.

  I smiled and gave a nod and took a deep breath. My mother led me to the door. Davina and Eva followed behind me my train and Maher was behind them. We met Leod in the hall and his grin spoke of his admiration.

  "You are very beautiful, my lady," he complimented me.

  "Thank you," I whispered.

  Leod offered his arm. "May Leod assist you to the coronation room?"

  "I would like nothing better," I replied as I took his arm.

  Leod beamed with pride as he escorted me down the hall to the top of the stairs. A chorus of voices rang down the passage and bespoke of a multitude of people come to pay their respects and appease their curiosity. I glanced over the balcony and beheld a crowded entrance hall. People from the village and surrounding countryside stood together on either side of a long, wide red carpet that ran from the bottom of the steps and into the coronation hall.

  The many voices stopped when all noticed my entrance. There were many wide eyes and whispers of admiration. Leod helped me down the stairs and into the crowds. Many smiled, and all bowed their heads. I could not help but notice the many soldiers who stood guard at the entrances to the castle and to every room.

  Leod led me down the carpet and into the coronation hall. The space was as crowded as the entrance hall with people standing shoulder to shoulder and pressed against the wall. The many dozens of heads turned to me, and I hesitated on the threshold.

  "Courage, my lady," Leod whispered.

  His words gave me heart, and I held my head up and smiled as we proceeded down the carpet. Father Clarke stood at the end of the carpet with the Good Book in his hand and pursed lips on his face. His customary black frock stood out against the festive decorations. Behind him were the pair of thrones, and beside each stood Alan and Chamberlain. They both held a pillow, and atop the pillows were our banded crowns of gold and precious gems. My brother Aindreas stood in front of them and held the pillow upon which sat our simple rings of silver.

  Tristan stood in front of Father Clarke and to the side, and was angled so he watched me enter. He wore a white blouse and dark pants. His eyes lit up as he watched me enter, and his smile told me of his approval for my dress.

  Laird MacNaughton, Seumas and his sons stood at the front and to the left while Laird MacLaren sat in a chair on the opposite side with Lady MacLaren ever behind him. The happy couple smiled and bowed to me, and Duncan and Angus gave me winks. Laird MacNaughton's lips
were as tightly pursed as those of Father Clarke, but beside him Seumas stood with that strange smile of his on his mouth.

  Leod and I reached Father Clarke and Leod handed me to Tristan who took both my hands in his. He smiled down at me.

  "You look lovely," he whispered.

  Father Clarke cleared his throat, and the whispering behind us ceased. It was time for me to be married.

  CHAPTER 41

  "We are gathered here this morning to join these two in holy matrimony and to proclaim allegiance to them as our laird and lady of the land," Father Clarke announced. "It is not long since our old laird has passed, but everything old must be replaced by the new."

  I noticed a tension in my hands as Tristan unconsciously squeezed them. I could not blame him. Father Clarke was not to be deterred in his scolding of our hurried marriage and the coronation.

  "May we offer condolences to them in their time of mourning, and wish them a peaceful and God-blessed start in their union together," he continued. "May they be blessed with less tragedy than the former laird, and be ever mindful of God's greatness over them."

  Tristan pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. "The rings," he whispered to Clarke.

  Father Clarke frowned, but turned to my brother. "Bring forth the rings." Aindreas stepped forward so he stood beside the father and winked at me. I tried not to laugh, so great was my nervousness. "Before we place the rings upon these two souls, has anyone to argue against uniting them in holy matrimony?"

  My heart quickened as I dreaded a shout or even a simple 'aye,' but nothing came. The room was quiet save for a cough.

  "Was that an objection I heard?" Father Clarke called out.

  "It was only a cough," Tristan assured him.

  Father Clarke pouted for a moment before he gestured to my brother. "Then accept these rings as a token of your love for one another." We took the other's ring, Tristan first, and placed the ring on each other's finger, and resumed our hand holding. I faced Tristan and blushed under his smiling gaze. "With the power vested in me by God and the Church, I pronounce you man and wife."

  The crowd erupted in cheers, and many a strong arm threw wheat upon us. I ducked and laughed as we were bombarded. Even my own brother took wheat from his pockets and tossed it over our heads.

  Father Clarke glared at the excited crowd. He held up his hand and his voice rang over the people. "A moment! Another moment, if you would!" he shouted. The din calmed and the father cleared his throat. "There is still the matter of succession." He stepped aside and motioned for Alan and Chamberlain to step forward, which they did. "These crowns represent the authority vested in you both to rule over these lands in a fair manner." His eyes flicked between us. "Do you swear to protect your charges and rule according to God's law?"

  "I swear," Tristan agreed.

  "I swear," I answered.

  Father Clarke took my crown, and I knelt on the ground so he could place it over my head. He did the same to Tristan, and raised his hand to the ceiling. "Arise now Laird and Lady Campbell. May god bless your union and the lands over which you rule," Father Clarke finished.

  There was another great cheer from behind us and the remainder of the wheat seed was thrown over us. Tristan snuck a chaste kiss from me and pressed his lips close to my ear.

  "Do you feel different, Lady Campbell?" he whispered to me.

  "No. Do you, Laird Campbell?" I teased.

  "Not until tonight," he returned.

  I blushed, but didn't have time for embarrassment as those present crowded around us to give us their well-wishes. My mother rushed up to me and clasped my hands in hers.

  "The crown suits you," she complimented me.

  "And somehow fits," I quipped.

  Everyone in the party jumped when a loud crack of thunder broke the revelry. A quick glance out the windows told everyone the storm Davina warned about drew near. The guests glanced at each other, and more than one mentioned the unluckiness of such a beginning.

  Tristan raised his hands over his crowned head and smiled at the company. "Let us race to the storm and make merry!" he shouted.

  "Hear hear!" Maher shouted.

  "Cheers!" Duncan cried.

  The brooding spell from the storm was broken. Instruments were brought forth and many joined in dancing in the center of the packed floor. I danced several dances with Aindreas, Leod, and even Chamberlain. Of course, my laird and husband demanded the lion's share of such joy.

  It was just after a dance with my brother when I separated myself from the tiring joy and sought refuge near the windows. I pressed my palm against my chest and tried to catch my breath. It was in this solitude that I found I was not quite alone.

  "Might I say you make a better bride than a servant," a voice spoke up.

  The voice was vaguely familiar, and when I turned I found myself staring at the smiling face of Bruce, the man who had rescued me from the dangerous servants at the inn. Bruce swept his arm across his chest and bowed low to me.

  "Good evening, Lady Andra," he greeted me.

  "My laird!" I greeted him as I grasped his shoulders. He wore the same worn cloak and was soaked through by the rain. "It has been a long while. I hope you are well," I commented.

  He straightened and gave a nod. "As well as can be expected for a wanderer."

  "Then did you return merely to see me wed?" I asked him.

  His smile faltered and he glanced past me. I looked over my shoulder and saw his eyes were on my husband. "Not entirely, my lady. I have news that your husband must hear." He returned his attention to me and smiled. "Might I request a favor from you for a private audience?"

  I furrowed my brow and studied his features. The lines of his face were tense. "What sort of news do you bring?" I inquired.

  "The most pressing, I'm afraid, and in need of very few ears," he insisted as he looked over the many people in the crowded and noisy room. "If you could show me to a room and fetch your husband, I would be most grateful."

  I bit my lower lip and glanced over my shoulder at Tristan. He was surrounded by a great many of the villagers, and I could hardly see him. I returned my attention to Bruce and gestured to the door.

  "If you would follow me," I requested.

  He smiled and bowed his head. "Gladly."

  I guided him through the tight crowds and many cries of congratulations. Maher stepped into my path and his teasing eyes flickered between Bruce and me.

  "Has the bride already decided to fly the coup?" he wondered.

  "As honored as I would be to have such a bride, she is too noble to fly anywhere but into the arms of her beloved husband," Bruce returned.

  Maher raised an eyebrow, but smiled. "Then you know the lady well," he commented.

  "He is an old friend," I spoke up. I set my hands on Maher's shoulders and turned him towards Tristan. "But if you could ask Tristan to come to our chambers immediately I would be much obliged."

  Maher chuckled but took a step towards my husband. "It is rather rude of you to leave the party so soon, but I shall do as you bid."

  "A moment," Bruce spoke up. We both and turned to him. "I would rather we meet in the chambers where his mother resided."

  I blinked at him. "His mother's room? But why?"

  "A matter of preference, and I would be very grateful if you humored my whim," he told me.

  I pursed my lips, but turned to my old friend. "Please tell my husband that my guest and I would like to meet him in his mother's room."

  Maher's eyes narrowed and flickered between Bruce and me. "You're sure?" he asked me in a low voice.

  I nodded. "Yes, and don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

  Maher bowed his head. "Very well, but I allow this only because the gentleman has soft eyes. Otherwise I would refuse."

  I smiled and leaned forward to peck a small kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, old friend."

  His cheeks blushed for a moment before he shook himself and smiled at me. "That's enough of that. Off with you and be quick, for I
'll be telling your husband as quick as I can."

  "Thank you again," I replied as I hurried passed him.

  Maher meandered his way through the crowds while I guided Bruce down the west wing hall to the chambers of the former Lady Campbell. Bruce entered first, and I shut the door behind him and turned to face him. He paid me no heed but allowed his full attention to center on the portrait of Tristan's mother. Even in the dim light her painted smile stood out and her eyes shone down on us with a gentle gaze.

  Bruce moved to stand before the painting and gaze at the radiance of the subject. "I always wondered if the artist had not been taken by some muse of old when he painted her picture," he commented.

  I joined him at his side and my brow furrowed as I looked into his weary face. The corners of his lips were upturned, but there was no warmth in the action. His eyes were hooded and downcast, and his whole body was bereft of its usual erect stance. In the place of the calm, self-assured man I was acquainted with was a stranger with great sorrows.

  "Did you know her?" I asked him.

  He chuckled, but there was no mirth in the sound. "Aye, I knew her. I knew her as well as you know-" His words were interrupted when the door flew open.

  The entrance knocked against the wall and swung back, but not before Tristan sprang into the room. His eyes were a bright gold and his fingers were lengthened into sharp claws. He slid a yard across the floor before his eyes fell on Bruce and me. His lips curled back in a snarl, and he lunged at Bruce.

  A lopsided grin slipped onto Bruce's lips, and he stepped aside and pulled me along with him. Tristan swiped at my guest and missed the man by a hairbreadth. My husband landed on the floor against the wall beneath the painting and spun around. Bruce pulled me behind him and stood tall.

  "A moment of your time is all I ask, Laird Campbell," Bruce announced.

  Tristan snarled. "You intrude on my lair and separate me from my mate, and now ask for a moment of my time? You are either daft or a new were-wolf."

  "I am neither, though I am a were-wolf," Bruce confirmed.

  My eyes widened and I looked up into Bruce's face. His lips were a thin line and his brow was furrowed.

  "You are serious?" I asked him.

  He half-turned to me and chuckled. "Can you not sense one of your servants, goddess?" he teased.