The sound of the cheering and clapping boomed like thunder in the entrance hall. It rattled Noah’s ears as he glanced about, nodding and waving to those before him.
“Are ye well?” Saoirse leaned in and whispered in Noah’s ear. The heat of her breath on his neck sent chills of desire racing through him. His heart sped up and pounded relentlessly in his chest, until all he could hear was the heavy drum of it over the cries of celebration.
“Fine,” Noah replied in a curt tone, without looking to Saoirse.
“Ye ken ye can set that down, right? Ye daeane have to be carryin’ the family sword about all night.”
“Aye, I ken,” Noah said as a small boy rushed to his side and held his hands out. It was as if the child knew without having to be told.
Gratefully, Noah handed the sword to the servant and raked his hand down his kilt, hoping the thick wool would soak up the moisture from his hand.
Slowly, he and Saoirse followed their host into the great hall. The aroma of cooked meats and rosemary filled his nose, graciously blocking out the constant bombardment of his bride’s perfume. His stomach twisted into knots as he found the small table at the back of the room dressed with flowers and ferns. He didn’t have to be told that the table was reserved for them. Yet, the sight of it filled him with dread.
He was thinking about sitting down and ignoring everything but the feast and the mead, when the orchestra started to play. Fiddlers raked their bows across the strings, as the drums and pipes filtered in, setting a slow pace. Noah’s eyebrow arched as he glanced around the room, realizing that everyone was staring expectantly.
Saoirse nudged him. “Are ye goin’ to dance wit’ me? ‘Tis tradition, after all.”
“And exactly whose tradition is it?” Noah asked as the knots in his stomach tightened.
She grabbed his free hand and slipped it around her waist. “My family’s.”
The heat of her body pressing against him caused his passions to stir. It wasn’t as if Saoirse wasn’t the most beautiful thing that he had ever laid eyes on. She was. Still, he had seen others who were almost as pretty. Yet, they had never caused butterflies to wreak havoc on his insides as they were doing at that very moment. In fact, he used to think that “butterflies” were a myth, made up by women who cared too much about romance and needed an innocent metaphor for their desires.
“There is somethin’ ye should be aware of,” Noah said curtly, as he spun her onto the dance floor.
“Should I brace myself?” Saoirse replied in a dulcet voice, pressing her body closer.
She peered up at him, and the way her shy smile stretched her lips made him want to kiss her. For a moment, Noah wondered if maybe he had taken one too many sips of brandy before the wedding, and those sips were only now hitting him.
I shouldnae drink tonight. I cannae make any mistakes.Swallowing, he shoved the thoughts of all the intense, carnal things he could do to her into the recesses of his mind. It was their wedding night, that much was true, but he knew he couldn’t lay with her, not when his emotions were all over the place.
“This is a marriage of convenience,” he declared, concentrating on a stag’s head at the far end of the feasting hall. “Nothin’ more. A means to an end, so to speak.”
“And what means might those be?”
“Heirs,” he answered plainly. “Ye have a responsibility to me now and that is to give me sons.”
Saoirse smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Well, now, daenae ye have it all figured out.” Her grin seemed to poke fun at him. The crook of her lips taunted him, but he was fully aware that her eyes never met his either.
“I’m nae followin’.” His brow furrowed with frustration.
She sighed. “Ye think me plain and dimwitted. A disappointment to what ye expected.”
Noah’s heart sank. He wanted to tell her that was not at all how he saw her, but bit his lip to stop himself from saying a word. He knew that if she was going to think that way, it would be beneficial for them both if he didn’t correct her.
“And daenae deny it,” she continued. “I saw the way ye looked at me when me faither presented me to ye. I’m nae what ye want. Then, of course, there was our first kiss. Ye could have at least pretended to be drawn to me.” Her voice dripped sarcasm as she added, “’Tisnae like we had an audience to that embarrassment.”
Noah sniffed. “It’s a foolish tradition brought here by the Romans. They left centuries ago and should’ve taken their traditions with them. I daenae see any reason to create a spectacle at a weddin’.”
“Really? I hadnae noticed.” Her eyes hardened. “And just so ye’re aware, I’m nae too fond of ye either.”
Sudden irritation surged through him. He gritted his teeth and pulled in a sharp breath. “I daenae expect ye are, seein’ as how we just met today. What is this maddenin’ belief that two people who are thrown together should feel anythin’ for one another?”
“Aye, it is a mad belief,” Saoirse said as he spun her around and drew her back to him. “That’s why I daenae have any delusions about what we are at the present moment. I’m the lass ye married to get a handsome dowry. Oh, and to give ye sons, apparently.”
“Ye think I married ye just for the money yer family offered?”
“Aye, I dae,” she replied boldly. “Which is why I ken better than to give any piece of my heart to a man who will forever see me as his property. After all, how did ye put it—my responsibility is to produce ye heirs and nothin’ more?”