CLAIMED BY A HIGHLANDER (THE DOUGLAS LEGACY Book 2) (27 page)

He took her hands and began his vows.

“I, Rory Ian Fraser MacKenzie, son of Kenneth of the Battle, the 8
th
of Kintail, and grandson of Alexander the Upright, the 7
th
of Kintail, take you, Lady Sybil Elizabeth Douglas, daughter of…”

As he recited her name and pedigree, fear flashed in Sybil’s eyes at the realization that every person in the castle now knew who she was. Rory squeezed her hands to reassure her and continued his pledge.

“…to be my wife. Before God and my clan, I promise to protect and keep you and to be a faithful and loyal husband until God shall separate us by death.”

Sybil seemed to pale at the reminder that she was bound to him until death, but she recited her vows to him in a clear voice.

When Rory pulled his dirk, her eyes went wide, and he realized that as a Lowlander she was not familiar with this part. He should have warned her. Praise God she did not scream, for that was just the sort of reaction those who were critical of his choice of a bride expected.

He held her gaze, willing her to trust him, as he turned her right hand over. Sybil did not even flinch as he cut across her palm, leaving a thin line of deep red blood. After drawing the blade across his own palm, he clasped his hand to hers, palm to palm.

As he wound the symbolic strip of linen around their joined hands, he recited the ancient words. He repeated them three times, the number that provided a couple’s bond with magical protection.

“Our blood is joined, and we are one

Our blood is joined, and we are one

Our blood is joined, and we are one.”

As he spoke the words the final time, they seemed to echo inside his head and heart.
We are one. One. ONE.

***

The room seemed to spin and blur behind Rory as he wound the linen around their hands and repeated the chant. Sybil kept her gaze locked on his and felt as if there was no one else in the hall at this moment but the two of them.
We are one. One. ONE.

When someone cleared his throat, she remembered that Alex stood before them in his priestly robes. The church’s blessing was not required to make a marriage binding, but it did make a marriage more difficult to escape.

“I bless this union in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

Alex dipped his thumb in the small bowl of holy water, touched it to Rory’s forehead, and made the sign of the cross. She felt the cool damp of his thumb on her forehead as he did the same to her.

“May your bond never be broken,” Alex said, “and may God bless you with many children.”

The words had barely left Alex’s mouth when Rory raised their joined hands. The hall erupted as everyone shouted, stamped their feet, and raised their fists or weapons in the air. Sybil did not think it could get any louder, but then Rory pulled her into a passionate kiss that made her knees weak and sent the MacKenzies into a frenzy.

When he released her, she felt dazed and happy. She had expected to feel weighed down by the pledge she had just made that bound her for life. Instead, she felt so light she could have floated over the crowd.

The MacKenzies did not let their unease with their laird’s choice of a bride interfere with their celebration. The hall was soon noisy with talk and laughter. The whisky flowed like water as one man after another made a toast.

“
Gun cuireadh do chupa thairis le slainte agus sonas
.”
May your cup overflow with health and happiness.

“Slàinte, sonas agus beairtas!”
Health, happiness and wealth!

“Móran làithean dhuit is sìth
.”
May you be blessed with long life and peace.

Sybil would have had the food served before so many toasts, but this appeared to be the Highland custom. Judging by the increasingly bawdy jokes, she was not the only one feeling a bit tipsy by the time the trestle tables were set up for the wedding feast. At last, Rory led her toward the head table, a signal to everyone to find their seats.

But he halted as something across the room caught his attention. Sybil followed his gaze to a guard who was pushing his way through the crowd of revelers, heading straight for Rory.

“Laird, I apologize for disrupting the festivities,” the guard said when he reached them, “but we have a score of Munro warriors approaching the gate, and they’re armed to the teeth.”

CHAPTER 28

“I’ll come out at once,” Rory told the guard. “Open the gates.”

“Is that safe?” Sybil asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

“A score of men is not enough to attack a castle,” Rory said, his expression hard. “They’ve come to negotiate my sister’s release.”

“Then I’ll come with ye,” Sybil said.

“You’ll wait here inside the keep,” Rory said. “I want ye out of the way should harsh words turn to drawn swords.”

Rory strode off without a backward glance, evidently assuming she would follow his orders. He should know her better by now.

Sybil followed him outside and stood a few feet behind him with Alex and Malcolm. The gates opened and the Munro warriors entered the castle riding two abreast. A striking young woman with strawberry-blonde hair rode beside the leader.

“Thank God, they’ve brought Catriona,” Alex said. “And it doesn’t look as though they’ve harmed her.”

“Rory must handle this delicately,” Malcolm said in a hushed voice. “We don’t need a war with the Munros.”

“I agree,” Alex whispered back. “But Rory looks as though he wants one.”

The tall young warrior who rode at the front beside Catriona dismounted. After helping Catriona down from her horse, he kept his hold on her while the two exchanged words.

“That’s their new chieftain,” Malcolm said. “He’s young and easily offended. Ach, this doesn’t bode well.”

As the Munro chieftain brought Catriona across the castle yard to them with his warriors following close behind, Sybil glanced at Rory. He was gripping the hilt of his dirk as if contemplating plunging it into the Munro chieftain’s chest.

When the Munro halted in front of them, Rory grabbed Catriona by the wrist and pulled her across the narrow divide between the MacKenzies and Munros. He pushed her behind him, clearly failing to notice his sister’s resistance or the look that passed between her and the young Munro chieftain.

“Rory is overly protective of Catriona,” Alex said in an urgent whisper. “We must stop him from doing something he’ll regret.”

“We can do nothing,” Malcolm said, holding Alex’s arm. “It would do Rory even greater harm for you and I to show we doubt his judgment in front of the clan.”

Well, that left it to her.

Sybil hurried to Rory’s side and hooked her arm through his, then gave both him and the Munros a bright smile. She could almost see steam rising from Rory’s skin, but her presence seemed to remind him that this was not the time nor place for a violent confrontation.

“We welcome you to Castle Leod,” Sybil said, and held her hand out to the young Munro chieftain. “I’m Lady Sybil, the MacKenzie’s bride.”

She ignored Catriona’s gasp of surprise and widened her smile. When the Munro chief bowed stiffly over her hand, she felt the tension of all the warriors around her decrease palpably—with the exception of Rory, who was clenching his jaw so tightly she expected to hear his teeth crack.

“Thank you for bringing Catriona home to us in time to celebrate our wedding,” she said. “That is a great favor to me, as my own sisters cannot be here.”

“It was my pleasure,” the Munro said.

“Your
pleasure
to return my sister?” Rory ground out. “How dare ye say that after ye kidnapped her.”

“Kidnapped?” The Munro stood taller, and fire lit his eyes. “She came to me for protection. You should take better care of your sister.”

Rory made a sound like a growl and took a step forward.

“’Tis true!” Catriona said, stopping him in his tracks. “I did go to them.”

Rory turned slowly to face his sister. “Ye went to the Munros?”

When she nodded, he stared at her, his eye twitching.

“It appears I have been remiss in not thanking you,” Rory said in an icy tone. “I will protect my sister better in the future, as you suggest, so that she will feel no need to go to
strangers
.”

Evidently the Munros had provided Rory’s sister with a safe haven, not kidnapped her. Catriona’s return presented an opportunity to build a friendship between the two clans. Rory, however, looked as if he’d like to murder their chieftain. The Munro’s attitude did not help matters.

“I wish you and your men a safe journey home,” Rory said, and gripped Catriona by the arm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my sister and I have much to discuss.”

Sybil watched in dismay as Rory dragged his sister off. She caught Catriona’s distraught expression as she looked over her shoulder at the Munro chieftain.

Nay, this would not do at all. She waited until she was sure Rory was out of earshot.

“Must ye leave so soon?” she asked the Munro. “It will add to our joy if you would stay and join the celebration of our marriage.”

***

“How could ye go to the Munros?” Rory shouted at his sister. “God have mercy, did ye lose your senses?”

“Of course I went to the Munros. Where else could I go?” Catriona planted her hands on her hips. “Have ye forgotten that Father pillaged and burned the lands of our other neighboring clan, the Roses?”

What had happened to Catriona? He remembered her as much more compliant.

“What about our uncle, Lord Lovat,” he said. “Ye could have gone to him.”

“He’s a sneaky bastard,” she said. “And would ye really want me to ride that far alone?”

“I don’t think ye realize this could have turned out verra badly.” Rory was not ready to let it go. “I don’t like how that Munro looks at ye.”

Catriona tilted her head. “How does he look at me?”

“Ach, you’re too naïve for your own good,” he said. “But don’t worry, he won’t trouble ye again. I’ll see to that.”

She opened her mouth to speak but seemed to change her mind.

“Why didn’t ye go to one of our own clansmen?” he said. “I looked all over for ye. No one knew where ye were.”

“After I heard about Brian’s death, I was afraid.” Her lower lip trembled. “I didn’t know which of our clan were Hector’s men.”

He could not argue with her judgment on that, and he was annoyed with himself for yelling at her. He put his arms around her, which is what he should have done in the first place.

“I can see ye made what ye thought was the best choice,” he said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect both you and Brian.”

“He came to Killin,” she said. “He was angry with Hector and looking for you.”

“Did he tell ye why?”

“Nay, but I’d never seen him like that,” she said. “He gave me two books to keep for him. I hid them in the safe place Mother showed me in the barn.”

“Books?” What use would they be? He was no closer to learning why Brian had set out for Edinburgh.

“All he told me was that if he did not return, I should hide the books and disappear until you came,” Catriona said.

“I’m glad you’re safe.” Rory kissed her cheek. “We ought to join the others in the hall.”

“Who is that lass who greeted the Munros,” Catriona asked, “and why did she pretend to be your bride?”

***

Sybil took a deep breath when Rory entered the hall and saw the Munros.

“It appears they’ve decided to stay for our wedding feast,” Rory said when he joined her.
“Ge b’e thig gun chuireadh, suidhidh e gun iarraidh.” Who comes uninvited will sit down unbidden.

“But I did invite them,” Sybil confessed.

“Ye knew I wanted them gone,” he said. “Why did ye interfere?”

Sybil judged that Rory was not ready to hear that his sister had formed an attachment to the handsome young Munro chieftain.

“Interfere? I was simply trying to be a good Highland wife,” she said. “I thought it was a matter of honor to graciously welcome every guest, even your worst enemy.”

Rory blew out a deep breath. “What was your real reason?”

“Ye said yourself that Hector should have tried to make the Munros allies rather than enemies,” she said.

“That was before I knew their young chief was an arrogant arse.”

Munro’s accusation that Rory had failed to protect his sister stung because he felt it was true. Her telling him it was unjust would not change that.

“And I don’t like how he looks at Catriona,” Rory said.

“Your sister is a lovely lass,” Sybil said. “Men will look at her.”

“Hmmph.”

“Worry about Munro tomorrow.” She rose on her toes and kissed him.

“You’re right, of course,” he said, smiling down at her. “I’ll not let anyone spoil our celebration.”

They ate course after course, and in between courses, there was still more toasting. After the feast, the trestle tables were moved to clear the floor, and the distinctive sound of bagpipes, drum, and flute filled the hall.