Chapter 9
Connor strode acrossthe hall; his jaw set with determination.He found Teàrlag near the far wall, still surrounded by a small cluster of women who scattered like startled birds when they saw his approach.She turned to face him with a triumphant smile, as if his presence confirmed everything she'd been telling them.
"Connor," she purred, stepping closer."I wondered when ye would—"
"Outside," he said curtly, gesturing toward a small antechamber that adjoined the Great Hall.It was private enough for conversation but with the door left open, their discussion would remain visible to anyone who cared to look.
Teàrlag's smile faltered slightly at his tone, but she followed him into the smaller room.Connor positioned himself so that he faced the doorway, ensuring their meeting remained in plain sight of the hall.
"Why today, Teàrlag?"he asked without preamble, his voice low but carrying the edge of steel."Of all the days ye could have chosen to appear at my keep, why my wedding day?I haven't seen ye in months."
Her mask of seduction slipped, replaced by something harder."Perhaps I wanted to see if the rumors were true.If ye truly intended to throw away what we had for some shallow arrangement."
"What we had ended months ago," Connor replied firmly."We parted on good terms, or so I thought.I made my position clear then, just as I'm making it clear now.There is nothing for ye here, Teàrlag.I have duties to my clan, and those duties include honoring my marriage."
"Yer marriage," she scoffed, her voice rising slightly."To that plain little mouse?Connor, ye can't seriously tell me she stirs yer blood the way I did.The way I still could."
"My wife is none of yer concern," Connor said, his voice dropping to a dangerous quiet."And I'll not have ye speak of her with anything less than respect."
Teàrlag stared at him for a long moment, something shifting in her expression as she realized the finality in his words.The Connor she'd known would never have defended another woman so fiercely.
"Ye'll regret this," she said, her voice turning venomous."Someday, ye'll remember what ye cast aside.And when that day comes, Connor MacNeil, I'll make ye pay for this humiliation."
"Then we have nothing more to discuss," Connor replied calmly.He stepped to the doorway and gestured to one of his guardsmen."Escort Teàrlag safely from the keep.See that she has provisions for her journey."
The guard stepped forward respectfully, and after a moment's hesitation, Teàrlag gathered her dignity around her like a cloak.She swept past Connor without another word, the guard following at a respectful distance.
Connor watched until they disappeared through the main doors, then felt the tension drain from his shoulders.It was done.The ghost of his past was finally laid to rest, and he could move forward with his marriage unencumbered.
My wife.The thought brought an unexpected smile to his lips.Just days ago, the word had felt foreign, imposed upon him by duty and politics.Now it carried warmth, promise, even a touch of pride.
When he returned to the Great Hall, his eyes immediately sought out Fiona.She stood near the high table speaking with Ewan, and when she saw him enter, her face brightened with what looked remarkably like relief.He moved directly toward her, noting how conversations quieted as he passed.The combined display he and Fiona had presented — his public departure to handle Teàrlag, followed by the woman's swift exit from the keep — had sent a clear message to everyone present.
"Is it settled?"Fiona asked quietly when he reached her side.
"Completely," Connor replied, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips."She's gone, and she won't be returning."
Fiona's smile was radiant."Good.Then we can enjoy the rest of our wedding celebration."
The festivities continued for another hour, the mood lighter now that the tension had been resolved.Musicians played, guests danced, and the ale flowed freely.But as the evening wore on, Connor found himself increasingly aware of what awaited them.Every glance at his wife, every touch of her hand, every smile she gave him heightened his anticipation.
Finally, as tradition demanded, Ewan stood and called for attention."The hour grows late," he announced with a grin that was equal parts ceremonial and mischievous."I believe it's time for the bride and groom to retire."
A cheer went up from the assembled guests, accompanied by the sort of ribald comments that always accompanied Highland weddings.Fiona's cheeks turned pink, but she kept her composure as the women of both clans surrounded her, preparing to escort her to the bridal chamber.
"Come along, lass," said one of the MacNeil wives with a motherly smile."Time to prepare for yer husband."
As the women swept Fiona away amid much giggling and advice-giving, Connor found himself surrounded by the men, who seemed determined to offer their own counsel.
"The key is confidence," declared one of his cousins, clearly deep in his cups.
"Patience," advised another."A gentle touch goes a long way."
"Speak for yerself," laughed a third."My wife prefers a man who kens what he wants."
Connor rolled his eyes at their conflicting advice, though he accepted their well-meaning intentions with good grace.When they finally released him to prepare himself, he retreated to his own chamber with a mixture of excitement and nervousness he hadn't expected.
He washed thoroughly with water that had been heated and scented with herbs, then changed into a clean linen shirt and plaid.As he prepared to join his bride, a sense of calm settled over him.Whatever uncertainties had plagued him about this marriage were fading, replaced by genuine anticipation for what lay ahead.
