Binding Vows (23 page)

Duncan choked on the ale he placed to his lips, drawing concern from those around him.

Tara hid a smile behind a napkin.
Sorry!

You are not!
He wiped liquid off his shirt.

Okay, you’re right. I’m not sorry.
She waited until he brought food to his mouth.
Guess what I am
wearing underneath my dress.

His eyes darted across the table.
What?

Nothing at all.

Again, Duncan had difficulty with the food he tried to eat.

No one noticed when Duncan and Tara stopped engaging in conversation with anyone at the table.

Except for Ian and Lora, who engaged in a full discussion as they speculated about what was going on between their son and daughter-in-law.

Once the meal was finished, and at the first opportunity, Tara begged Myra for assistance to get away from the others.

They both fell into chairs in the solar after closing and locking the door. “He’s worse than you said.”

“I told you. And did you see Regina? She was 196

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falling all over Fin.”

“Do you think the two of them have ever...” Tara let Myra finish her sentence.

“Nay. Even Finlay has better sense than that.

The Lancaster’s may not be the brightest in the bunch, but even they would see that as a strike against their honor and force a marriage between the two of them.”

“For his sake, I hope he keeps it in his pants.”

Myra’s laughter bubbled out. “You say the funniest things. How are you and Duncan handling sleeping separately?”

“It’s awful,” Tara sighed. “I thought it would be easy. I did sleep alone for the last twenty-five years, how hard can five days be?” She shook her head.

“They feel like five hundred.”

“I would guess they are even more difficult for him.” Myra took lightly to her feet and poured them both some wine.

“Don’t kid yourself. It isn’t easier for me because I’m a woman.”

Myra sipped. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Someday you will.” Tara set her glass down, slipped her shoes off and crossed her legs under her.

“I didn’t think it was possible to love a man so much.

I’ve tried telling him, but I can’t get the words out.”

“That you love him? Why?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Fear, I guess. Fear he doesn’t feel the same way. What if I tell him, and he chokes on a reply?”

“He calls you
love
all the time.” Myra defended.

“He says the same to every child and woman in the village.” She shifted in her chair. “I know he cares, and I think he loves me. But until he says those three small words, I will simply have to guess.

And worry.”

“Ludicrous. I’ve never seen my brother so enthralled with anyone until you. He loves you 197

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beyond measure.”

“You think so?”

“I know so!” Myra took her hand in assurance.

“You have nothing to fear.”

“I hope you’re right. I would hate to think he’s doing all of this because his father forced him.”

“Duncan would never allow that. He does nothing he’s not in agreement with, no matter what the consequences.”

Tara measured her words and found the truth in them. “I have been meaning to ask you something.”

Suddenly serious Myra gave her a puzzled look.

“What is it?”

“Will you stand up with me, during the ceremony?”

Moisture sprang up in Myra’s eyes. “Oh, Tara, I would be honored. I know how you wish your own sister were here to stand with you.” The women embraced, both brushing fallen tears from their cheeks.

“Lizzy would approve. Besides, you will be my sister after the ceremony.”

“True, but blood is thicker. I’m sorry she can’t be here.”

“Me, too.” Tara wished, knowing it was impossible.

“Hey, you know what? I have a way for us to be blood sisters.” It was corny, Tara knew. But a sister held secrets, and this was one she wanted to share with Myra. “When Lizzy and I were ten and twelve, we were jealous of our girlfriends’ friendships. As sisters, we were always close. It was almost unnatural how we never really fought or disagreed.

Anyway, one night we sat up late gossiping about the mean girls we went to school with. Then we made up a special spell.”

Tara moved to the sewing basket and took out a pair of scissors. “We had been reading books on 198

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witches, powers, and such.”

“You mean a real spell?” Myra sat up in her chair, riveted.

“I don’t know how real it was, but it made us feel better.”

“What was it?”

“It’s kind of corny, completely juvenile.”

“Great! What is it?”

“All right.” Tara nicked her index finger with the scissors drawing a small amount of blood. “First we did this. Neither of us could bear more than a prick.” Tara handed over the scissors.

Myra followed her lead.

“Then we became blood sisters.” Tara placed her finger with Myra’s.

“But, you were already blood sisters.”

“I told you it was corny, besides we didn’t choose to be born sisters, but we did choose to do this.”

“Then what?” Myra sat palm-to-palm, fingers touching Tara’s.

“Then, we wove our spell.” Tara interlocked her fingers in Myra’s. “In this day and in this hour, we call upon the sacred power. I choose to give my blood to thee, I choose you as a sister to me. Your turn.”

Myra repeated her chant. Tara felt a slight tingle in her hand, but didn’t comment on it.

“I told you it was corny.”

“I don’t think so. Now, I have two more sisters.”

She continued when Tara appeared confused. “You and Lizzy, we are all three sisters now.”

“I’ll buy that.” They each wiped the blood from their fingertips and both moved to leave the room, rested and ready to face the crowd outside the doors.

“What is the
sacred power
?” Myra asked.

“I have no idea. But it rhymed well.”

Before she closed the door behind them, something caught her eye. The scissors, which held only a drop of their blood, glittered and shone in the 199

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darkened room. She peered closer and noticed a strange magical dust fall, from the blade. She opened her mouth to tell Myra what she saw, but her new sister had already left her side.

She shook her head and decided to keep her observation to herself. When she left the room, Tara felt like a teenager.

****

The cooks prepared the food for the feast. Duck, pheasant, and wild turkey rounded out the choices of poultry. A roasting pig took up a large amount of space in the kitchen. Butter was churned and plastered over Mrs. Claunch’s many baked goods. To her astonishment, Tara witnessed the maids whipping cream to sweeten the pies.

Tara made certain she thanked each and every servant for their assistance.

Musicians played in the great hall, entertaining the guests. The strings of a harp caught Tara’s attention. She stopped, listened and let the music pull at her heart. Emotion choked her. Misty eyed, she surveyed the transformed room.

Lizzy would love all of this
,
and Cassy would be
patting herself on the back for being the reason
Duncan and I met.

Tara swept the back of her hand across her eyes brushing the tears from her face.

Duncan entered the hall, his eyes fell to her. His expression quickly turned from excited to concern.

Tara grinned, but she knew he read her thoughts.

Slowly, he came to her side. There, he wrapped his arms around her waist and rocked her back and forth. A simple twist, and they appeared to be 200

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dancing.

They danced together with their eyes closed. It could have been only the two of them in the room as far as they were concerned.

Don’t be sad, Tara.

I wish they could be here.

Do you regret being here?

She stopped moving, pulled away far enough to look him in the eye. “There is nowhere else I want to be. How can you ask?”

“I want you to be happy.”

“
You
make me happy.” Unable to stop the words from coming she let them tremble out of her hoping they would come back. “I love you, Duncan, more than life, more than time or place. There is nowhere else I want to be.”

Tara held her breath and waited while his face sparkled and his eyes glistened.

“I will spend every day showing you how much I love you.” He crushed his lips to hers, demonstrating to everyone who watched, the love he felt for the woman in his arms.

Tara didn’t think she could get any happier than she was at that moment. She felt his love for her in his kiss. In her heart, she knew it had always been there.

Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer. The sparks building in the core of the couple, flickered into flames on top of the candles overhead.

The musicians stopped playing and without provocation the crowd applauded.

Laughing against each other’s lips, they ignored the crowd and kept their lips glued to each other.

Bringing hoots and cheers from the men.

“Okay you two. Take it outside.” Fin shuffled them apart. “You’re about to light the hall on fire,”

he whispered under his breath.

Tara glanced at the candles burning brightly 201

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above them. With a flash of drama she fanned herself, calling a small wind like Myra had taught her, and blew out the candles before others noticed they lit themselves. “You take my breath away.” She said loud enough to call attention to her instead of the flames.

Laughter came from many directions.

Outside, the cool breeze helped bay the fire burning inside the bride and groom.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Really? What is it?” Her hand in his, he tugged her along the courtyard.

“My wedding present to you.”

“A wedding present?” She stopped. “But I’ve nothing for you.”

He placed a hand aside her face. “You are my wedding gift. The love you give me.”

She melted. “Do they give you guy’s lessons in this time?”

“Lessons in what, lass?”

She laughed. “Never mind. Where’s my present?”

He laughed keeping pace with her. “Over here.”

“Is it big or small?”

“You’ll see.”

“Did you wrap it? We women like to unwrap presents you know,” she said, getting into the spirit of things.

“It can’t be wrapped.”

“Can I close my eyes and shake it? Guess what it is?” Duncan kept laughing. “You could try.”

“Okay, I’m closing my eyes. Don’t let me fall.”

Tara stumbled along beside him. They slowed their pace once she heard other voices. She heard Duncan shush those who were around them.

“Give me both hands,” he said.

Under her fingers she felt the warm fur of what 202

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had to be a horse. A small noise and movement from the animal brought Tara’s eyes open.

Tara caught her breath. The mare was beautiful. Her tan coat was the color of caramel, her mane as rich as chocolate. Her big brown eyes flittered with trust.

“Hello,” Tara said in a soft greeting. “Look at you, so strong and regal.” Stroking her neck, Tara glanced at Duncan. “For me?”

“Aye.”

“You’re making me cry again.” She looked at her horse with awe.

“Sorry.” Duncan gave a half apology.

“No, you’re not.” She moved in to thank him.

Even Finlay started to blush before he broke the lovebirds apart. “You two are making me ill with this. Brother Malloy had better not dawdle in his ceremony on the morrow. Least you announce a birth before a marriage.”

Everyone in earshot agreed.

****

Grainna couldn’t have picked a better time to come into the small parish of people and blend in. No one noticed an old woman walking with a cane.

Again, she considered luck was on her side, a luck that hadn’t been with her for centuries. The Ancients must be asleep at the wheel, she thought.

There was no other explanation for why her presence had yet to be discovered. They were so damn proficient at banishing her the first time.

Calling attention to herself by using her black magic would certainly make her presence known. Their lack of diligence kept her more subdued than she would be normally.

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She made her way to the village merchant who bartered and sold any and everything the town had to offer. Provisions of food, candles, and cloth woven from the wool of the sheep littering the landscape of the surrounding hills, were for sale.

She waited for a few of the gentry to finish with the man, while she kept to the back of his small home, which doubled as his store. “How can I be of assistance to ye?” he kindly asked, obviously happy with his burgeoning business.

“Only a few little things if you will, sir.” Grainna put her old woman smile of kindness on her face. “A few candles and a measure of salt pork if ye have it.”

It didn’t take long for the man to start talking.

“Are ye here for the wedding?”

“My grandson and I are passing through.” She had guessed the nature of the festivities, but she kept herself from slipping into the minds of the people to confirm her assumption, again to keep her presence concealed for as long as possible. “It looks to be a grand wedding.”

“Lord Duncan, the eldest son of the Laird, is marrying on the ‘morrow. ’Tis good ye came today for these.” He set the items she requested down on the counter.

“Quite lucky for me then.”

The man kept up with the gossip, happy to have someone who didn’t know his stories. “Now if only his daughter would pick a husband. Methinks she may find one during the celebrations. The village is filled with so many eligible men who would suit.”