Page 72 of Highlander’s Mercenary Lass

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Snow fell thick and hard against the steep hills.

But inside the main chamber, the guests at the wedding were not cold. The fires in the great hall were roaring, and the throng of body heat kept them warm. There was no denying it was hot inside the hall, so why did Grace feel so cold?

Nervously, she pressed on, creeping through the hall, her long blue robe flowing like water.

Her hair was arranged simply, with a single pleat at the back, and the rest of it hung loosely around her shoulders. The white lilies in her posy contrasted coolly with her dress made of silk.

From behind, Aileen and Fiona smiled reassuringly. But Grace did not look. Her mind was on one thing.

The sea of people blurred in front of her eyes. The room was packed. Everyone, it seemed, had turned up for their wedding. And as Grace approached the front of the room, she wondered if there was anyone left at all in the Highlands!

"Look at them all," gasped Aileen in a whisper loud enough to be heard halfway down the hall.

Fiona glanced at her sharply and half of the guests turned around, including one very tall man of perhaps twenty-five years. He fixed his unwavering gaze upon Fiona as she ushered Grace along. Seeing him, Fiona stopped, blushing, and adjusted her headdress.

"Grace, they're all here for ye," murmured Lissie, from a little further behind.

And they were. But Grace did not see them.

If she had looked up, Grace would have seen the garlands festooning the hallway. And if she had listened, she would have heard the jaunty strains of the fiddlers playing.

But she didn't.

All she saw was Andrew, standing at the top of the hall. Waiting.

Andrew's jade eyes twinkled from across the packed hall. Seeing him, Grace hid a smile.

Slowly, she drew forward, taking in his blue clan plaid. The strong color offset his complexion, bringing out the sparkle in his eyes.

And his scent… The entire room was imbued with it. Everything about him felt so intense.

Another glance sent a crackle of heat up and down her legs. The tense thrill stopped Grace in her tracks. Chiding herself, she struggled to get a grip of herself.

It seemed to take forever for her to get across the room. From there, a clan elder in ceremonial robes looked up. In his hands, he held a wooden cup. Grace barely glanced at him. She walked toward Andrew.

"Grace," welcomed the elder, holding his hand out. Grace smiled but still did not look. Inside, her heart ricocheted in her chest, making her suddenly hot.

"Ye’re beautiful," Andrew murmured. He brought his hand to her face, touching her as if she was not real. Then he smiled.

The elder cleared his throat. "An' now we join these two people, together in life..."

He coughed again, but Grace wasn't listening. She was completely overwhelmed by Andrew's smile. His green eyes seemed to see straight through her, making her hot.

Then, he tapped her on the shoulder. "Grace, he wants yer hand."

"What?" said Grace, looking up. Her heart thumping, she suddenly realized the entire room was staring at her. "Och..."

Grace's cheeks reddened as the elder began the ceremony. First, he took her hand and bound it with the blue ribbons of the Duncan clan. Then, he placed Andrew's hand with hers. The sensation of his skin against hers made her bristle, and then buzz. Heat spread across Grace's palms, along her body, and straight down her spine.

She was so consumed by it that she didn't even notice the elder binding their hands. She just looked up, and suddenly, they were together.

"Ye’re stuck wi' me now, hen," said Andrew ruefully, but a big smile spread across his cheeks.

Grace just stared. She had been knocked sideways. None of this was really how she had expected her wedding day, if she had ever pictured one at all. Suddenly, Grace was overcome.

"Grace, ye’re crying! What's wrong?" Andrew asked, his green eyes searching hers.