Page 34 of Katie's Highlander (Highland Protector 3)
Wide stance. Broad shoulders thrown back. Head held high. A heart-stopping leader overseeing all his subjects. When his piercing gaze landed on her, Katie swallowed hard and an involuntary shiver ofdamnrippled through her. This wasn’t Ramsay, the sweet, hesitant introvert of Brady, North Carolina. This man was Ramsay, the fearless warlord.
He smiled. A real smile that proudly shone from his eyes, then he held out his hand and waited.
A gentle but firm push nudged at the small of her back. “Go to him, m’lady,” Flora whispered from behind her. “Dinna fash, I’ll be a standin’ to the side of the pedestal if ye have need of the slightest thing.”
Oddly enough, the knowledge that the mere slip of a girl that she’d just met would be nearby did make her feel somewhat better.
Katie stepped into the room and the rumbling undertone of the multiple conversations evaporated, leaving behind a nerve-jarring silence. She swallowed hard and kept her focus locked on Ramsay as she made her way to the dais and took his hand.
“Yer breathtaking,” Ramsay said as he beamed at her with a look she’d never seen on any man’s face before. It was a shiver-inducing mixture of pride, adoration, and pure primal hunger. He steadied her as she navigated the pair of wide stone steps of the dais, assisting her struggle to keep her long skirts from grabbing her feet and throwing her to the ground.
He kept his gaze locked with hers as he met her on the middle step and pressed his mouth close to her ear right before she’d reached the top. “Truly breathtaking, dear one, and yer all mine.” He brushed a tender kiss to her cheek before stepping back and guiding her to his side.
“Thank you,” she managed to whisper, then swallowed hard and tried to suppress a quivering tremble that ended in a longing ache for Ramsay to get even closer and tell her more. She pulled in a deep breath and slowly blew it out.He’s playing to the crowd. Get a grip.
“He whispered in your ear,”her lonely inner self argued.“How the hell could the crowd hear that?”
Shut up.Katie blinked away the silent argument, gave a sideways look at Ramsay and smiled.
Lifting his spear high with one hand, Ramsay squeezed her hand with his other, then hugged it to the center of his chest. “I proudly present to ye the lady of the keep. My wife. Katherine.”
Katie inwardly cringed. She hated her full name and never used it, but everyone always easily guessed it. The only time she’d ever heard it as a child was when she was in a shitload of trouble. She forced a smile at the many upturned faces aimed at her.So many. Damn, where had they all come from?She swallowed hard and tried not to tremble.
Gordon MacTavish, tattoo-head as Katie fondly thought of him, stepped away from the group gathered closest to the dais. The spiritual leader of Clan MacTavish looked several shades cleaner than he had when they’d first come upon him in the woods.
His solemn gaze fixed on Katie, he moved forward until he stood on the steps just beneath her. He took a knee at her feet, bowed his head, and held up his dagger to Katie as though it were a cross. “As I pledged m’fealty to Himself, so do I pledge m’fealty to you, m’lady. As I pledge—so pledges m’clan, Clan MacTavish.” The man spoke in easily understood Old English even though it was well seasoned with his heavy Highlander accent.
“Thank you.”
Gordon remained on his knee, head bowed, and dagger raised. The man was obviously waiting for something.
Shit. What do I say to unfreeze him? Damn druids. If they’d written some of this stuff down, I would’ve arrived in the tenth century better prepared. She was well versed in feudal oaths of fealty. Had even done a paper on them while getting her master’s. But who knew how the druids did it?
Ramsay came to her rescue. He leaned in close, his lips tickled against her ear as he whispered, “Tell him yer honored to accept his fealty and Clan MacTavish’s fealty as well. Then take his uplifted hand at the base of his dagger. Clasp it between both of yers and tell him ye’ll e’er protect him.”
Okay, then. I got this.Katie leaned forward and took Gordon’s hand and dagger between both of hers. She took in a deep breath and blew it out, determined to speak clearly and with the strength the clan would expect.
“You honor me, Gordon MacTavish, as does your clan. I accept your fealty and the fealty of Clan MacTavish and all its septs.”That should take care of all the little offshoot clans. I hope they called them septs in the tenth century.At the moment, she couldn’t remember.
Still holding Gordon’s hand between hers, Katie continued, “You and Clan MacTavish have my protection as long as I draw breath—I so swear it.” Then she leaned forward and pecked a kiss to the handle of the knife. Nobody gasped or acted surprised or shocked, so hopefully, her little ad-lib hadn’t gone awry.
Gordon stiffly rose from his kneeling position, gave a curt nod, and returned to stand among the crowd, but not before Katie noticed an emotional sheen of moisture in his eyes. Feeling a moment of panic, Katie quickly looked to Ramsay. He reassured her with a proud smile and a single nod.
Whew. I didn’t mess up.She noticed a general shifting of the crowd toward the other end of the room. For the most part, all the men were filing out the wide double doors that Katie assumed led to the bailey. A few women appeared to be going outside with them but very few. Most of the women gathered at the fringes of the crowd, patiently waiting in the shadow of the gallery that ran around the upper level of the room, were now scurrying about, shouting orders to several young men carrying in rows of tables and benches and placing them up and down the length of the hall.
“That’s it?”Talk about anticlimactic.Katie sidled closer to Ramsay then fluffed out the tangle of skirts determined to trip her. “What’s happening now?” She asked in a normal tone. With all the chaos in the room, there was absolutely no danger of anyone overhearing her.
“They’re preparing for the MacTavishcèilidh—the first feast. They couldna proceed without yer blessing upon the clan.” Ramsay took her hand and led her down the steps and over to a side door leading to a much more private torchlit hallway that appeared to run behind the great hall. He closed the door behind them and motioned to the left. “We’ve a couple of hours to ourselves now. Gordon showed me our private gardens. This way, lass. ’Twill be much cooler there. Come. We’ll enjoy a bit of fresh air whilst I prepare ye for the coming days.”
“Sounds ominous.” She hadn’t missed that he’d said the servants were preparing for thefirstfeast. She grabbed hold of her skirts and hiked them up to her knees. Screw decorum. She wasn’t used to all this yardage. She hurried to keep pace with Ramsay.Damn…I miss my jeans.
They came to the end of the hallway that dead-ended in a wall of stone highlighted by a pair of torches.
“Let me guess,” Katie mused as she moved forward and carefully traced her fingers along the cool rough edges of the blocks making up the wall. “Secret door…somewhere.” She’d ran across these a few times in various medieval castles she’d studied. The trick was looking for the slightest variance in the seaming since none of the blocks were held together with mortar.
Ramsay grinned and gave her a wink that clearly saidI dare you. “Aye, lass. Think ye can best it?”
“Of course, I can best it…just give me a minute.” This was her forte—her favorite kind of brainteaser.
