Free Trouble with a Highland Bride by Amanda Forester Page B

comforting,” said David in a dry voice. He shook his head and muttered to himself. He stood and went to the door, calling a gillie to fetch the scribe, the priest, and his lady wife.
    “Does this mean ye accept our proposal?” asked Gwyn, forgetting she was supposed to be on her brother’s side, not the young English knight’s.
    “Aye. ’Tis a fair one if we can win over yer uncles. Best to have the signed accord and the vows spoke before we meet them.” David walked to Jack and they shook hands.
    Gwen’s mouth went dry and her stomach fluttered with more than just hunger. “Ye mean to see us wed now?”
    “Aye!”

Nine
    Jack smiled and was emboldened to put his arm around her shoulders. “I shall protect her with my life,” he declared.
    “I know ye will. For if ye dinna treat her kindly, I shall slit yer throat.” David was all the more chilling for how calmly he spoke the words. It was not a threat, just the plain truth.
    “Yes, sir,” stammered Jack.
    “What is this about? What has been decided?” Isabelle swept into the room.
    “We have made peace with yer cousin,” David announced. “Sir John and Gwyn will be married at once.”
    “Now?” asked Isabelle.
    “Now?” gasped Gwyn. She wanted to be married to Jack. She did. But everything was happening so fast, things seemed to be moving in a blur around her.
    “Aye, as soon as the scribe can prepare the accord for us to sign.”
    “But we must tell our kin to come,” said Isabelle.
    “Nay. It will just be us.” David inclined his head toward Jack. “The fewer people who know we are harboring the captain of the army camped outside our walls, the better.”
    Isabelle’s eyebrows arched in a graceful manner. “Ah, yes, I see. In that case, I shall take Gwyn to prepare her for the wedding.”
    Isabelle took Gwyn by the hand and led her down the hall to the ladies’ solar. Gwyn followed, mute and stunned. She was getting married? She was getting married now? Right now?
    “Darling, sit down. Are you well?” Isabelle’s eyes were filled with concern and she pushed Gwyn gently into a chair.
    Gwyn sat down with a thud. “I dinna ken I would be married like this.” Her sense of peace was gone and the world seemed to be spinning before her.
    “I somewhat suspected it would be something of this nature,” confided Isabelle as she unbraided Gwyn’s hair and took a comb to it. “You were always such a wild lass. I must own I thought you would have a wild courtship. And you certainly have not disappointed!” Isabelle laughed and Gwyn joined in. It was good to laugh.
    “Is this gown to your liking?” Isabelle laid out a stunning gown of blue silk.
    Gwyn nodded. “’Tis beautiful, but it is no’ yers?”
    “’Tis yours now, my love. I will help you dress so we will not alert the maids, but you must tell me everything.”
    “I fear ye winna think well o’ me because of it,” said Gwyn.
    “I once tried to escape David by hiding in a pickle barrel,” declared Isabelle. “It did not go well. Now tell me all!”
    Gwyn smiled and poured out the whole story as Isabelle laced her into the beautiful pale blue gown and brushed her long, blond hair free.
    Before long, she was standing in the chapel before the priest, hand in hand with the handsome English knight who would be her husband. Jack had been given a fresh surcoat, and was rather stunning. Someone had retrieved his boot, and he now stood, though only on his good leg, with both feet in black leather boots.
    David and Isabelle stood beside them as witnesses; none other were present. A wave of panic flowed through her. What was she doing marrying some English knight? She must be daft! She avoided Jack’s face, and her eyes fell to the altar behind the priest.
    And the greatest of these is love.
    Peace once again swept through her. She looked up at Jack and smiled into his warm eyes. It would be well. Love would carry the day.
    “I now declare ye husband and wife,” intoned the