Evan stifled the laughter that was trying so hard to escape. Among his clansmen, he was known as a fair but powerful laird. No one had ever bested him in a fight, and he was renowned for his prowess. Grown men were known to shake in their boots in a confrontation with their laird. Yet this wee slip of a lass stood up to him as if she were twice his size.
“Katie, we’ve been over this. We need to marry. I have compromised ye. Ye could be carrying my bairn right now.” He walked slowly toward her, speaking softly, as if calming a skittish horse. “With the Armstrong mon still lurking about, ’tis best to get it over with as quickly as possible so we can be on our way.”
She drew herself up and looked him in the eye. “I’ve been thinking it over. I dinnae want to be a ‘no other choice’ bride nor have a ‘get it over with’ wedding. I dinnae remember agreeing to a wedding so soon.”
She was hurt. It was right there in her eyes. He’d made a mess of things by being his usual take-charge self. Of course she wanted to be made to feel as though this was something he wanted and was not forced to do. She wanted soft words, romance, and other things he had no idea how to do.
On the other hand, time was of the essence. He’d had reports that Armstrong had remained in the area, bad weather would soon be upon them, and bloody hell, he wanted Katie in his bed.
Now.
But he wanted a happy bride. A contented wife. A woman who felt cared for and was pleased with the marriage she’d made. And even, perhaps, loved, although he’d already stated he wasn’t promising that.
Evan offered her a soft smile and took her hand. “Ye ken I want ye for my wife. Not because ’tis something I must do but because it’s something I want to do. Truthfully, I thought about that verra thing before we were even caught in the downpour that stranded us at the cottage.”
He took both of her hands in his. “But, lass, yer brother is in danger, the weather is going to change verra soon, and I must get back to my clan. Surely ye can understand the need for a quick wedding?”
She studied him for so long, he thought she would say nay, but finally she nodded. “Aye.”
He tugged her hand, pulling her to join him on the comfortable chair near the fireplace. She landed in his lap, and he lowered his head.
Right before he placed his lips on her warm ones, he said, “Tomorrow.”
Chapter Twenty-One
My wedding day.
Katie stared in the mirror, surprised that she looked like a bride, since she didn’t feel like one. But her reflection proved it to be true. The lovely pale blue gown that clung to her figure had been borrowed from one of the MacDuff lasses who’d been wed in it the past year. She tried not to think about the poor lass who’d died two months ago, giving birth to her first child. Her husband had cried as he’d handed her the gown.
Her hair was braided and wound about her head, with blue ribbons woven throughout. The ribbons had been a gift from the cook, Mrs. MacDuff, whose granddaughter had run off with the butcher’s son on the eve of her wedding to another man. She’d cried as she handed over the ribbons.
Her shoes did not match her gown, but ’twas better than her work boots, which was all she had since there had never been a reason to dress up fancy. The pale green satin slippers with stones on the front had come from Mrs. Stirling with the eleven children. The woman had patted the corners of her eyes and wished her a long, happy, and fruitful marriage.
Katie was almost afraid to wear them.
A wedding day was not something she had dreamed about, as most young girls did. From the time her mum had died and Katie had taken over the care of her brother and the entire Stirling keep, she’d shoved thoughts of love and marriage to the back of her mind. The only man who had shown any interest in her had been Richard Armstrong, and she kenned precisely why he wanted to marry her. And it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with her sweet brother. She shuddered.
But here she was, ready to marry a man she’d only known for a few weeks. Of course, everything she’d learned about him only strengthened her opinion of him as a man, a laird, and, most likely, a husband.
Except he was a bit—ach, truthfully, more than a bit—arrogant. But he seemed to care for her and would be a wonderful example for Gavin. The poor lad needed a strong man in his life. Even though she would not change anything she’d done as his only parent, she was fair enough to allow that he needed a bit of toughening up.
A light tap at her door drew her from her musings. “Mistress, everyone is gathered and waiting for ye.” Meggie walked into the room, her eyes bright. “Ye look like a bride.”
“I ken, but I dinnae feel like a bride.” She sighed and picked up the pretty bouquet made from the flowers one of the Stirling lasses had gathered.
“I dinnae ken why yer so glum, mistress. Yer husband is a braw, handsome mon. He is laird of one of the strongest clans left in Scotland. He is flush with coin and even has a liking for yer brother.”
“Aye, I agree with ye on all those points. But the mon is also full of his own importance. Not that a laird is not important, but I dinnae want to enter into a marriage where I will be silenced on every opinion I offer.” She shook her head. “’Tis also
