Highland Intrigue (Duncurra Book Book 3) by Ceci Giltenan Page B

fall and a bitter wind blew. She turned her face to the blowing snow and laughed. “Lovely day for a wedding, wouldn’t ye say, Daniel?”
    He laughed too. “Ah, lass, don’t ye know? If snow falls on yer wedding day, ’tis a good omen for a long, happy marriage.”
    “Well if the severity of the storm has any impact, ’twill be positively blissful. Like my mother said, let’s hurry and get this over with, otherwise I’ll be frozen to death before it ever starts.”

Chapter 6
    Although Fingal had stretched out on a pallet near the hearth in the great hall, he hadn’t slept much that night. He had worried about the huge responsibility he was about to undertake. Just before dawn, a soft noise from the rear of the hall woke him. He had watched as his betrothed slip out the back of the keep. For a moment he had wondered if she was running away. As soon as that thought had crossed his mind, he set it aside. She might not like this, but she was strong and bold; she would not sneak away like a thief in the night. Wherever she was going, he was certain that she would marry him as she promised.
    He had spent most of the morning taking stock of the clan’s assets, most importantly their manpower and defense measures. The steward, Ailbert, was both accommodating and enthusiastic. He had clearly been one of the MacLennans who welcomed Fingal’s leadership. After saying his piece the previous night, Eadoin too had been helpful, providing much needed information about their military strengths and weaknesses. When Niall approached at one point to suggest that he prepare for the wedding he had been shocked at how late it was. There had only been time for a quick wash and a change of clothes before the ceremony. Now he stood solemnly on the steps of the chapel with Niall and the MacLennans’ priest, Father Stephen.
    Gillian’s mother and several other women had just exited the keep and were winding their way through the people who had gathered for the wedding. A hush fell over the crowd as they waited expectantly. Fingal wished he were almost anywhere but here. He had never aspired to leadership and yet it had been thrust upon him, along with an unwilling bride. These people were his people now. Their success or failure, their safety—their very lives—were his responsibility. God’s teeth, could he do this?
    His concern must have shown on his face. Niall leaned close. “Fingal, never doubt that ye are up to this challenge. Ye are a skilled warrior. Ye are both intelligent and compassionate. I respect ye more than any man alive and I am confident ye will be a great leader.”
    “Thank ye, Niall.” Before he could say more, the doors opened again. Fallon and Ailsa stepped out of the hall followed moments later by Gillian, on Daniel’s arm. A great cheer went up from the crowd. The wind picked up and the snow swirled around them. Gillian turned her face into the wind and laughed. Dear God, she was spectacular. Perhaps she would never love him, hell she might never even like him, but by all that was holy, he could think of worse things than waking up next to her every day for the rest of his life.
    Daniel led her through the crowd to his side. Before Father Stephen could utter a word, Daniel said, “Father, I know it is traditional for the couple to exchange vows in front of the church, but since the bishop is allowing us to break with several other traditions, do ye think God would mind terribly if we took this inside on such a blustery day?”
    Father Stephen looked flustered at Daniel’s request. “Well, ah...well—nay, I don’t suppose so.” He turned, opened the door, and led those assembled inside out of the wind.
    “That’s much better, Father.” Giving the priest a roguish wink, Daniel added, “frankly, I don’t think our Lord himself could’ve heard their vows in that wind.” Gillian chuckled and Fingal found the sound entrancing.
    Father Stephen administered the wedding vows without preamble.