“Allow me to speak,” Nora said, raising a hand. “Father, you may recall that when I spoke strongly to you about my aspiration to become a master weaver, you told me it could not be. You said the dream I had nurtured since I was a child was impossible, simply because I am a woman, not because I lack the skill.”
At this, to her aggravation, her father gave Lennox a sidelong glance, as if to exchange a commonly-held belief about females. “This slip of a lass cannot seem to understand that a true weaver must possess a great deal of physical strength in order to operate that great loom.”
“You see?” cried Nora. “All my life you encouraged my dreams, but when the time came for me to reach out and make them come true, you found many reasons why it could not be!”
She saw real, raw pain flash in his eyes. “Is that a reason to leave me and everything we have shared since the day you were born?”
For a moment, Nora wavered. Perhaps it was truly mad to run away with Lennox MacLeod, to abandon her father and the world of tapestry weaving to which she was so deeply devoted. But in the next breath, she remembered the babe Sir Raymond Slater had put in her. It would be far worse for William Brodie to discover that shocking and shameful secret than to think she had left because she’d fallen in love with Lennox. And even if she did tell the truth and Father could somehow understand, it would be impossible to hide her condition or explain the babe to the rest of the royal court.
“Father, you said it yourself. At the royal court, weaving tapestries is a man’s domain. Perhaps, in my future with Lennox, I can find another place to apply my skills as a weaver.”
Defeat, then grief flashed across William Brodie’s face. Nora feared he might weep, but then his strong chin jutted out, and he stared defiantly at Lennox. “If ye think I will allow ye to lure my daughter away and defile her, ye are sorely mistaken!”
As Lennox regarded the older man, Nora waited, wondering what he could possibly say to that.
“I am no defiler of innocent lasses,” he replied evenly. “I love your daughter and intend to marry her.”
Nora pressed her lips together to suppress a stunned gasp. Good God, what was Lennox saying? And now that he had spoken so rashly, how could he undo such words later?
His jaw still out-thrust, William nodded angrily. “Aye! And well you should wed, before ye leave Stirling Castle.”
Lennox took Nora’s arm again. “I fear there is no time now. A family crisis demands that we depart now, but we shall have a proper wedding very soon.”
“I know a remedy for this,” her father persisted, reaching again for Nora’s other arm. He tugged on her. “Ye will handfast. Now. With me as the witness!”
She looked at Lennox, expecting him to finally admit the truth: that he had no desire to take Nora with him, let alone wed her, and now he would be on his way, leaving father and daughter to sort out their problems alone.
Instead, Lennox continued to study William Brodie. “Handfast?” he echoed with a hint of challenge.
“I may have spent most of my life in Flanders and England, but I was born a Scotsman.” Her father narrowed his eyes at Lennox. “Surely, as a mighty Highlander, ye know all about handfasting!”
“What does it mean?” Nora queried nervously.
“Your bridegroom is in a great hurry, so let us demonstrate rather than explain,” her father said. He wore the expression of a cat who has cornered a particularly elusive mouse. “’Tis simple enough.”
If Lennox was disturbed by this unexpected turn of events, he gave no sign of it. Instead, he took Nora’s hand in his and put his other around her waist. It was comforting to feel the strength of his fingers.
“Your da is quite right,” he murmured with a grim smile. “We should say our vows for him to hear.”
“Go on then,” William Brodie folded his arms over his chest, watching them with an air of suspicion.
“Nora Brodie, I take thee to my wife,” Lennox said simply.
She blinked, waiting for more. What sort of ceremony was this, without a church, an altar, or a priest?
“Now ye must say it, lass,” commanded her father. “It’s what ye want, is