finger."
Niall slid the golden circlet onto the third finger of Anne's left hand. Then his gaze returned to Alastair's.
"W-would you consider wearing my ring?" the older man asked. "'Twas part o' a long and happy union once before. Mayhap 'twill bring the same fortune again."
Niall gritted his teeth, a muscle twitching furiously in his jaw. 'Tis a farce, all o' this, he inwardly raged, yet the old man persists in trying to force some romantic symbolism into it. Well, this goes too far! I won't compromise my honor .
A gentle squeeze of his hand halted him. Turning, Niall found himself captured by a mesmerizing pair of silver eyes. Warm with silent entreaty, they pulled at him. He knew, for Anne's sake at least, he couldn't refuse.
"II'd be honored, MacGregor," Niall mumbled, still ensnared by the strange feelings roiling within him. Benumbed, he watched as the man presented his daughter with the ring and she placed it on his finger.
"As the grass o' the fields and the trees o' the woods bend together under the pressures o' the storm," Alastair once more intoned, "so too must you both bend when the wind blows strong. But know as quickly as the storm comes, so equally quickly it may leave. Yet, will you both stand, strong in each othees strength. As you give lovhonor, so will you receive strength. Together you are one; apart you are nothing."
He raised his eyes to gaze at them. "Ever honor, help, and respect each otherand know that now you are truly one."
A broad smile lit his face. "'Tis over, the hand-fasting. You may kiss her."
Kiss her, Niall thought. Ah, well, she was his now and if it would but put an end to this odious ceremony. . . .
He pulled her to him. His powerful arms encircled her.
In rising horror, Anne watched the approach of Niall Campbell's ruggedly hewn face. Holy Mother, 'tis too much after such a day! she protested silently. I can't bear it! If he kisses me, I'll surely swoon!
She shook her head wildly in an attempt to evade the hard, inexorably descending mouth, struggling in his arms. A hand seized her head in an iron clasp. In helpless fascination, Anne stared up at him, a cry clawing its way to her throat. Before it could break free, his mouth captured hers.
Chapter Four
Strong, hard lips slanted over hers, forcing Anne back against the unyielding grip of Niall's hand. For a moment slowed in time, she fought him, her fingers digging into his broad, linen-covered chest, before finally surrendering to his overwhelming powerand the cruel reality of her fate.
She was a fool to fight him; Niall Campbell owned her now in body and life. To resist would only shame her before the clan. There was nothing left but acceptance, but that acceptance would be as cold and unyielding as she could make it.
Anne relaxed in his arms, neither pulling away nor returning his kiss. The change in her response startled Niall. He drew back to scan her face. Silver eyes, devoid of expression, stared up at him.
So, this is how it's to be, he mused wryly. A frigid bedmate .
Disappointment shot through him, then Niall reminded himself of the true purpose of the hand-
fasting. She was comely enough, but he'd neither the time nor inclination to woo a wench, willing or not. Issues of far greater import demanded his attention. Like the identity of a certain traitor.
The realization, hovering at the edge of his consciousness, rushed back with disconcerting force. With a low, angry curse, Niall released Anne.
His frowning glance found the MacGregor. "Tis done then, the vows said and sealed."
He nodded to his cousin. "Let us be gone."
Iain grinned. "Not so fast, cousin. Custom, not you, dictates the pace. As clan witness to this hand-fasting, I'm required to give your lady a kiss. Would you have her feeling unwelcome to the family?"
Niall's gaze narrowed. He gestured toward Anne with an impatient sweep of his hand. "Make it quick, then."
As she stood there in stunned surprise, Iain took her into his arms. His
Niall slid the golden circlet onto the third finger of Anne's left hand. Then his gaze returned to Alastair's.
"W-would you consider wearing my ring?" the older man asked. "'Twas part o' a long and happy union once before. Mayhap 'twill bring the same fortune again."
Niall gritted his teeth, a muscle twitching furiously in his jaw. 'Tis a farce, all o' this, he inwardly raged, yet the old man persists in trying to force some romantic symbolism into it. Well, this goes too far! I won't compromise my honor .
A gentle squeeze of his hand halted him. Turning, Niall found himself captured by a mesmerizing pair of silver eyes. Warm with silent entreaty, they pulled at him. He knew, for Anne's sake at least, he couldn't refuse.
"II'd be honored, MacGregor," Niall mumbled, still ensnared by the strange feelings roiling within him. Benumbed, he watched as the man presented his daughter with the ring and she placed it on his finger.
"As the grass o' the fields and the trees o' the woods bend together under the pressures o' the storm," Alastair once more intoned, "so too must you both bend when the wind blows strong. But know as quickly as the storm comes, so equally quickly it may leave. Yet, will you both stand, strong in each othees strength. As you give lovhonor, so will you receive strength. Together you are one; apart you are nothing."
He raised his eyes to gaze at them. "Ever honor, help, and respect each otherand know that now you are truly one."
A broad smile lit his face. "'Tis over, the hand-fasting. You may kiss her."
Kiss her, Niall thought. Ah, well, she was his now and if it would but put an end to this odious ceremony. . . .
He pulled her to him. His powerful arms encircled her.
In rising horror, Anne watched the approach of Niall Campbell's ruggedly hewn face. Holy Mother, 'tis too much after such a day! she protested silently. I can't bear it! If he kisses me, I'll surely swoon!
She shook her head wildly in an attempt to evade the hard, inexorably descending mouth, struggling in his arms. A hand seized her head in an iron clasp. In helpless fascination, Anne stared up at him, a cry clawing its way to her throat. Before it could break free, his mouth captured hers.
Chapter Four
Strong, hard lips slanted over hers, forcing Anne back against the unyielding grip of Niall's hand. For a moment slowed in time, she fought him, her fingers digging into his broad, linen-covered chest, before finally surrendering to his overwhelming powerand the cruel reality of her fate.
She was a fool to fight him; Niall Campbell owned her now in body and life. To resist would only shame her before the clan. There was nothing left but acceptance, but that acceptance would be as cold and unyielding as she could make it.
Anne relaxed in his arms, neither pulling away nor returning his kiss. The change in her response startled Niall. He drew back to scan her face. Silver eyes, devoid of expression, stared up at him.
So, this is how it's to be, he mused wryly. A frigid bedmate .
Disappointment shot through him, then Niall reminded himself of the true purpose of the hand-
fasting. She was comely enough, but he'd neither the time nor inclination to woo a wench, willing or not. Issues of far greater import demanded his attention. Like the identity of a certain traitor.
The realization, hovering at the edge of his consciousness, rushed back with disconcerting force. With a low, angry curse, Niall released Anne.
His frowning glance found the MacGregor. "Tis done then, the vows said and sealed."
He nodded to his cousin. "Let us be gone."
Iain grinned. "Not so fast, cousin. Custom, not you, dictates the pace. As clan witness to this hand-fasting, I'm required to give your lady a kiss. Would you have her feeling unwelcome to the family?"
Niall's gaze narrowed. He gestured toward Anne with an impatient sweep of his hand. "Make it quick, then."
As she stood there in stunned surprise, Iain took her into his arms. His
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