The Highlander Takes a Bride (Historical Highland Romance)

“ ’Tis quite unusual fer the proof o’ innocence to be on display at the actual wedding feast.”

Saidh blinked at Aunt Tilda’s words and tore her gaze from her husband to glance at the bloodied sheet that hung over the banister. Heaving a sigh, she said, “Aye. I’m no’ sure whose idea that was. Probably one o’ me brothers.”

“Do ye mind?” Aunt Tilda asked gently.

Saidh shrugged. “No more than the fact that half the castle probably heard me brother bellowing about Greer writing to tell him he’d ruined and was marrying me.”

“Hmmm. No doubt the other half of the castle were told about it within minutes afterward,” Aunt Tilda said dryly.

“Aye,” Saidh agreed wryly and turned to find her husband again. He was seated on a bench across from Dougall at one of the lower tables. The rest of her brothers were gathered around the pair, laughing and cheering them on as they chugged back whatever they were drinking. All eight of the men had been seated at the high table just moments ago, but then her brothers had stood as one and dragged Greer down there to challenge him to a drinking contest. She had no idea why they’d dragged him away for it. She didn’t mind them having the contest. They could have held it here at the high table without her fussing.

And they knew her well enough to be aware of that, she realized suddenly. What the devil were they up to?

“I suppose the proof o’ innocence means we can bypass the bedding ceremony,” Aunt Tilda said thoughtfully, and then glanced to her in question. “Unless ye want one?”

“Oh, nay.” Saidh waved the idea away. She’d seen it at Fenella’s wedding and thought it a great deal of fuss and nonsense for nothing. That thought made her glance toward the stairs as she wondered if Fenella knew about the wedding and feast. She must, of course. Her maid would have heard when she came below to collect Fenella’s sup if not before, and had no doubt told her mistress. Saidh wasn’t terribly surprised, though, that Fenella hadn’t made an appearance to offer even feigned well wishes. She’d thrown the applemoyse at her just hours ago, after all, and that after seeming to suggest she was considering Greer as a husband for herself. No doubt Fenella’s nose would be out of joint now.

“I find meself a little weary again tonight. Mayhap I’ll retire early,” Aunt Tilda said suddenly. Smiling at Saidh, she added, “And since that is the third time ye’ve yawned in as many minutes, mayhap ye should too. It may be good fer ye to get in a little nap ere Greer joins ye.”

“Mayhap I will,” Saidh said, stifling another yawn and rising when Lady MacDonnell did. She paused then, though, glancing uncertainly toward Greer and her brothers. “Do ye think I should tell Greer?”

“Nay.” Lady MacDonnell chuckled. “Let him have his fun. He will be up soon enough.”

Nodding, Saidh walked with her toward the stairs.

“I hope ye do no’ mind not sleeping in the master chamber on yer first night as lady here,” Lady MacDonnell said with concern a moment later as they started up the stairs. “ ’Tis just with Alpin so ill—”

“I do no’ mind at all,” Saidh interrupted to assure her.

“Still, it seems a shame to spend yer wedding night in the guest room ye’ve been using.”

“I do no’ mind,” Saidh repeated firmly. “ ’Tis a nice room, and as ye said, there is no sense in moving Alpin when he’s unwell.”

“Aye,” Aunt Tilda murmured with a frown. “Speaking of the lad, I suppose I’d best check on him ere I retire. His fever was definitely back before we moved below for the feast. I told Marian, the maid who was sitting with him,” she explained. “I told her to fetch me if he got worse, so hopefully he has no’, but I’ll feel better checking on him anyway.”

“I can do that, if ye like,” Saidh offered.

“Thank ye, but nay. I want to talk to Marian anyway. Let her know I am retiring so no’ to look fer me below.”

Saidh opened her mouth to tell her that she could tell the woman that for her, but then gasped in surprise when Lady MacDonnell stumbled on the steps and crashed into her. The hand Saidh had been trailing along the rail tightened instinctively on the wood, saving her from a bad fall. She also reached for Aunt Tilda with her other hand to ensure she didn’t tumble past her. The woman was surprisingly heavy and Saidh grunted at the full impact of Aunt Tilda’s weight as it sent her falling back as far as her arm would straighten, before they then swung toward the railing, crashing into it with enough impact that it produced a cracking sound.

For one moment, Saidh feared the railing would give way and they’d both plunge to the great hall below, but it held and she was able to regain her balance, and then help Lady MacDonnell to find her own.

“Goodness,” Aunt Tilda breathed once they were both safely on their feet again. “Fer a minute there I thought I’d be joining me Allen sooner than expected.”

“So did I,” Saidh admitted quietly. “Are ye all right?”

“Aye,” Aunt Tilda assured her, but then scowled down at the steps and said, “Be careful though. There is something slippery on the steps. Probably Marian spilled some of the soup she fetched for Alpin. Or mayhap Fenella’s maid spilled something as she carried up her food,” she added in a mutter, and then shook her head and stepped carefully onto the next step as close to the wall as she could get to bypass whatever was on the wood. “I shall have Marian clean it up while I sit with Alpin.”

Saidh peered down as she traversed the next couple of steps, but they were still a few steps from the landing and the light from the torches in the upper hall didn’t reach there. The steps in question were in shadow.

“Well, good sleep, Saidh,” Aunt Tilda murmured pausing on the landing and turning to hug her and press a kiss to her cheek. “I am glad to ha’e ye in our family.”