Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,49

they were younger, their actions had been endearing. Now, at the ages of five and ten and twelve, it bordered on menacing.

“How many will be dining with us?” Aeschene asked a bit nervously.

Black Richard tallied the numbers quickly. “Including the three of us? Nine.”

“Be that at the high table?”

He couldn’t resist the urge to chuckle. “We dunnae have nightly nor formal feasts here,” he told her. “We sit at one long table in the gatherin’ room.”

Was that disappointment in her eyes he saw reflecting back at him? She shifted her weight from one foot to the next. “I look forward to meeting yer family,” she said.

“Before we go below to sup,” he said, approaching her slowly. “I will be introducin’ ye to the clan.”

A brief flash of worry was quickly replaced with a smile.

“It will require ye to go out on the balcony again,” he said.

Her eyes widened with trepidation.

“Dunnae fash yerself,” he said with a grin. “I promise to be right beside ye. I will not let ye get anywhere near the construction.”

Relieved, her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. “Again, I be terribly sorry for that,” she told him.

Gently, he took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “I ken, lass, I ken.”

Black Richard paused at the tall window used as temporary access to the balcony. He left Aeschene with Marisse whilst he stepped out to make certain Lachlan had assembled their clanspeople as instructed. It had not been a carefully worded invitation. It had been an outright order.

Below them, in the courtyard, stood most of his people. A little under two hundred of them. ’Twas a sad sight, this disparate band of people. Most of them were his age or older. Only a handful were younger couples with children. The rest, twenty-nine in all, were warriors. Thankful once again for his wife’s lack of good vision, he reached back through the window and extended his hand. They were as ready as they ever would be. “Aeschene,” he whispered. “Take me hand.”

He took note of the slight tremble in her fingers when he took her hand in his. “’Tis all right, lass. I have ye,” he said in a most reassuring tone.

With her free hand, she grabbed her skirt, ducked as he instructed, and climbed through the window. He was proud of the fact that she did not hesitate, nor balk nor claim fear.

Through the window safely, he tucked her hand once again in the crook of his arm and led her to the edge. Looking down at his people, he forced a proud smile. “I present to ye, my wife, yer new lady and chatelaine of our keep,” he called out to them in a loud and firm voice.

The silence he was met with was short lived. Lachlan, Rory, and Daniel were facing the crowd. Lifting their swords and waving their arms, they encouraged the others to cheer. Soon, a great cry rent the stillness, and his people were cheering as if they were good and truly proud of their laird’s new bride.

Mayhap they were, he couldn’t be certain. Mayhap they too, were happy for at least the smallest moment of peace the marriage afforded them. It stood to reason they were just as tired and drained from the border raids and wars with their neighbors as he. The last few years had been difficult on everyone.

Aeschene leaned nearer him and whispered, “Should I say somethin’?”

Just why he found her question amusing, he couldn’t say. “Nay, lass,” he replied, giving her hand a gentle pat.

Looking out, though she could not see anything, she smiled. ’Twas a warm, sincere, and most heartfelt smile. Then she did something remarkable. With a slight inclination of her head, she offered them her most graceful curtsy.

Without any encouragement from his men, the crowd cheered once again. Louder and mayhap more genuine than before. Their reaction to his new bride left him feeling proud and hopeful and for the life of him, he couldn’t reason out why.

Now, if only Raibeart and Colyne could be so easily won over.

With Marisse behind them, Black Richard guided his wife to the top of the stairs. Intentionally built so that only one person at a time could traverse in either direction, he paused to figure out the best way to lead Aeschene below.

“Ye can go first. I will follow behind Marisse with the finger loops,” she suggested after a long moment.

“Finger loops?” he asked, wholly confused.

Smiling, she explained it to him. “I ken it

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