The Scot's Pursuit - Keira Montclair Page 0,26
loose strands behind her ear. “I think we suit each other quite well, and I don’t wish to lose you to Osbert Ware or any man. ’Tis not ideal, but considering the alternative, mayhap we should do it now.”
Stunned, she couldn’t find the right words. Her hand flew up to his cheek, the stubble rough, but his gaze warmed her from the inside out. Aye, there was no reason to wait. Branwen wasn’t quite sure what love was, but in her mind, love was the way she felt about Alick. She trusted him, loved the way he made her laugh, and anxiously anticipated their joining as husband and wife. Her mother had told her it could be wonderful, but only with the right person.
Alick was her right person.
He was the only man for her, and nothing and no one could turn her away from him.
“Will you have me, Branwen?”
It was the easiest question she’d ever had to answer.
“Aye, I would be honored to be your wife. I know you’ll have to leave for a few days, but I don’t wish to wait.” She could withstand her sire for a few more days, and once he knew she’d already married, he would be unable to force her marriage to Osbert Ware.
She could only pray the priest would marry them.
***
Alick couldn’t believe he’d asked and she’d accepted. The only thing to do was move down the loch and ask the priest if he would marry them. Though his mother and father would be upset they weren’t there to observe, surely they would understand the need for haste. It wouldn’t be the first time a marriage happened on a whim to a member of Clan Grant. His feelings for Branwen were far deeper than he’d have ever believed, justification for a quick marriage in his mind.
He helped her put her boots on before donning his own. Then he took her hand and led her down the water’s edge to the chapel at the end.
“Greetings to you, Father MacKenzie,” Branwen said, squeezing his hand a little too hard. “May we have a moment of your time?”
“For certes, lass. You know I always enjoy our chats.” He looked affable enough, with long brown hair, warm brown eyes, and a crooked smile, and if he were fond of Branwen, surely he would be sympathetic toward their situation.
“Father, my name is Alick MacNicol. I’m from Clan Grant and I met Branwen when they came for the Grant festival.” He took a deep breath before he continued, cocooning her hand in both of his. “Branwen and I would like to marry. I have asked her and she has accepted. Would you do us the honor of marrying us?” He began to rub the back of her hand.
The priest pursed his lips and folded his hands in front of his robe. “You have asked her sire and he has refused you, aye?”
Alick sighed and nodded.
Branwen stood up on her tiptoes in order to look the priest in the eye. “Father MacKenzie, my sire has betrothed me to Osbert Ware against my will. You know how he treats me. Please allow us to marry, or I’ll be forced to marry an old man just to care for his six bairns.”
The priest stepped around them and strolled over to the loch, a short walk from the chapel. He stood under a large tree, its branches hanging out over the water, now lightly swaying. His lips moved as if in prayer, but he said nothing aloud.
Alick squeezed Branwen’s hand and waited for the priest, feeling all the tension of the moment. His future happiness rested in this man’s hands.
The priest pivoted and made his way back to them. “I will do it. In the past, I would insist on the permission of both sets of parents, and we would need a couple of witnesses, but we live in uncertain times. My vocation has brought me through the Highlands, and I see naught is the way it used to be ever since this war driven by King Edward. Come inside and I will marry you.” He turned on his heel and headed into the small chapel made of stone with a thatch roof, standing out against the green of the forests, the loch, and the distant mountains.
Branwen smiled at Alick, a radiant smile that made him want to give her the world, and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. She took a step toward the chapel, but he stopped