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“I willnae say a word about it,” he murmured back, wishing he could scoop her up in his arms, carry her to her chamber, and start their second wedding night early.

She wriggled out of his grasp before he could put any part of his thoughts into action. “See you this evenin’,” she said. With that, she hurried off, practically skipping down the hallway.

He watched her go, fighting to remind himself that he could never love her.

It’s nae anythin’ like love. I’m just excited to have a wife that doesnae hate me anymore, that’s all.He tried to convince himself that it would be the same with any woman who’d met him at the altar, but his thudding heart betrayed him. It beat for Saoirse, and Saoirse only.

“Mo cuishle,” he whispered.

If it ever stopped beating, he knew that, this time, it might actually kill him.

CHAPTER19

Noah couldn’t believehis eyes. The garden had transformed into a strange and beautiful new world, unrecognizable. As she’d done with the interior of the Castle, it appeared that Saoirse had worked real magic upon the outside, too. And the gardens had been beautiful to begin with. Now, it was like a faerie realm, the lawn scattered with small, decorated tables, while tiny candles flickered in the grass and torches caught the breeze from the soil of the flowerbeds.

It was almost worth Saoirse being absent from his side for the entirety of the day. Almost. If anything, her absence had only intensified his eagerness to see her again.

My goodness—His heart stopped as Saoirse emerged from beneath a flowered archway. She wore a gown of gossamer silk that rippled like water as she moved. The color of it changed in the evening light, shifting from a pearly hue to light purple to pale pink. Her hair was loose and studded with flowers. Wildflowers. Some of the very ones he had picked for her, he realized.

She headed straight for him. “What do ye think?”

“The gardens… ye’ve done somethin’ very special here, Saoirse.” His throat choked, too fixated upon the way the gown clung to her, teasing him with her silhouette. It reminded him of the moment he’d seen her at her chamber window in naught but a shift.

She chuckled. “The dress, Noah, nae the gardens. Though, I thank ye for yer kind words.”

“I daenae ken if I have the right words to describe that gown,” he confessed.

“I thought it might be a fittin’ weddin’ gown, seein’ as this is our second chance at celebratin’.” She swayed her hips from side to side, making the skirts swish. A flash of ankle stirred up old memories and fresh desires.

He reached out to touch the silk, smoothing his hand over her waist. “It’s very fine indeed.”

Their coy exchange was soundly interrupted by the arrival of Saoirse’s sisters, and the other guests that Saoirse had invited. There were more revelers than Noah had anticipated, including several servants. Perhaps, she was taking a little bit of revenge on him for demanding she dine with the entire council.

“Let us sit at the high table,” Saoirse said, putting out her hand. “Our celebrations are about to begin.”

He took her hand and let her guide him to the small, circular table in the center of the lawn. It was only big enough for two, bringing a smile to his lips. Though, her sisters were within arm’s reach at the next table over.

“Is this how ye take every meal?” Georgia quipped, leaning so far off her chair that she almost fell to the ground.

Saoirse laughed softly, holding Noah’s gaze. “Nay, but perhaps we’ll do it more often, now I ken how beautiful it can look. Let’s just hope that the midges daenae become a nuisance, or it may ruin the beauty and we might all have to run inside to escapetheirfeast, where we are the main dish.”

Her sisters laughed and Saoirse’s face glowed with happiness. Noah observed his wife as he might observe a rare work of art. His heart needed no feast as long as he could look at her smile and her joy; it was already full.

“Thank ye,” he whispered close to her ear.

She turned with a frown. “What for?”

“For invitin’ me.”

* * *

With full bellies, glad hearts, and more than a touch of drunkenness sweeping through the gardens like a gleeful disease, the tables were cleared away and the lawns became a dance floor. Musicians struck up a lively tune from their corner by the white roses, with Mary in the center, debuting her fiddle playing to amuchlarger audience.

“I best nae be playin’ for nothin’, M’Laird, M’Lady!” the old woman shouted as she flashed a wink at Saoirse.

“I think she wants us to dance,” Saoirse whispered.

Noah rolled his eyes and grasped hold of Saoirse’s hand. “Then, we mustnae displease her. She is, after all, the real ruler of this Castle.”


Tags: Lydia Kendall Wicked Highlanders Historical