When she looked at her parents she did so with the eyes of a child, remembering how she used to feel when she would run behind them and ask them to play or to go outside, or just to spend time with them. They had seemed so tall then, so impossibly tall that Caitlin couldn’t comprehend ever being an adult like them. But she had grown up into a fine woman, shedding all the youthful naivety that came with being a girl. Now she was getting ready to begin her own life, to fully embrace adulthood. Her parents looked older than they used to and they had lost some of their vigor, but she knew she could still count on them to take care of her. Even though she was leaving them to embark upon her own life, she knew she could always return whenever she needed their support. She saw all the hope in their eyes, the hope of the best for their daughter, and in them she also saw a reflection of the future as well. One day she would be standing in the same position, looking upon her child with pride.
“We should be gaeing,” Bryn said. “I’d hate tae keep Rhys waiting. I’m proud of ye Caitlin. I know it was a lot tae ask, and I know we’ve been lucky that Rhys is a good man, a better man than we could ever have expected. I love ye, and I want ye tae know that I’m proud of what ye are daeing and who ye hae become.”
“It’s all thanks tae ye Da, and ye Ma,” Caitlin replied with great respect, and a trembling voice as the emotions inside were beginning to get the better of her. She hugged her parents one last time, almost not wanting to let go, but of course, she had to release her arms. She carried a bouquet of cornflowers, roses, and lilacs as Bryn linked his arm in with hers and escorted her out of the room. Violet followed. Caitlin could hear Violet trying to stifle her sobs, and that only made Caitlin more likely to cry. She trembled as she walked through the keep and went into the field outside. The sun was bright and warm, and it made her dress look so beautiful. Her skin felt the kiss of the sun. She was glad of her father’s support, as she was certain that she would have buckled under the sheer force of her emotion otherwise.
The crowd was out in force. The entire keep had filtered out onto the wide field, and all the members of the two clans had gathered. The Frasier camp clustered together towards the rear and gave out a loud cheer as the bride approached. The McClearey clan, not wanting to be outdone, gave an even louder cheer. Caitlin gazed around in astonishment at all the people and for the first time wondered how she was going to cope with getting married in front of so many people, but then she saw Rhys standing at the end of the aisle, looking so handsome in his tight-fitted doublet. The golden trim gleamed in the sun and the dark red was the color of love and passion. He stood taller than anyone else in attendance, and as he towered above them Caitlin thought of him as the peak of a mountain that was visible from miles around. He would always be her tower, a landmark that she could look for and would guide her away from any confusion or doubt. If she was lost she could look to him, and then move towards him, knowing that he would always be there to lead her to safety.
A minstrel plucked the strings of his lute as Caitlin walked towards Rhys. The people around her all faded into the background as her vision became solely focused on him, her future husband. She smiled as she approached, ready to give herself to him in marriage. Truthfully, she had already given him her heart.
12
Rhys shifted his weight between his feet as he waited. The sea of people stood before him. He knew that many of the McClearey clan still bore him hostility because of his name, and there was an edge of tension to the proceeding. No doubt a few of them still thought that the wedding would be interrupted by a declaration of war, but he was glad that he had won over the important people. He just had no idea what he was going to do when his father went through with the plan. Rhys pulled at his clothes, wishing that he could have gotten married in something more comfortable. Sweat prickled on his brow and a drop ran down his temple, nestling against his neck. He wiped it away and suddenly felt uncomfortably hot. The sun beamed down brightly, blinding him. The air was sweet and fresh, and the keep stood behind the crowd, tall and foreboding, impenetrable…unless it was attacked from the inside.
Rhys could have told them all then. He could have addressed everyone and bellowed out the truth as loud as he could. His gaze drifted across to his father, who was sitting in the front row, hands on his thighs. Malcolm glared at Rhys. Rhys felt his throat tighten and he swallowed his nerves, although the lump in his throat didn’t disappear entirely. If he did as he
