Free The Eternal Highlander by Lynsay Sands, Hannah Howell Page B

She was so different from him, in size, in looks, in heritage, and in blood, but he was certain they were a perfect match. Cathal intended to make her see that truth as well.
    After one quick glance around the great hall, she kept her gaze fixed upon him. Cathal could sense her unease. She had enough sense to know that not many of his kinsmen wished her well. He wanted to promise her that everything would be well, but he could not lie to her. He could not be sure it would be or that she would believe some soothing but empty words. Bridget was risking a lot to marry him. She was too quick-witted not to know that. Cathal was not only flattered by that; he felt hopeful. For Bridget to do this had to mean that she cared for him, felt more than lust for him. There was a good chance that the seed of affection had already taken root in her heart. Cathal prayed he had the skill to nurture it well and make it grow.
    Bridget slipped her hand into Cathal’s and felt Mora move to stand beside her. She wished someone from her own family was with her at this important time, yet was also pleased that she faced this alone. It had taken but one look at the gathering of MacNachtons to know trouble was brewing. There was no telling what form that trouble would take or how dangerous it could become. She could not drag her family into the middle of it all. She was willing to put herself at risk to stay with Cathal, but not her family. When the conflict was resolved, she would invite her family to Cambrun to celebrate her wedding and not before.
    She knelt with Cathal before the priest. It was obvious that Father James had MacNachton blood in him. The fact that one of their ilk could hold a place in the church eased several of her lingering concerns. She repeated her vows and struggled to ignore the whirlwind of conflicting emotions she could sense in the air around her. When the vows were made and Cathal had kissed her, there was some cheering and Bridget tried to find some comfort in that. That the clan was divided by her marriage was not good, but at least it was not united against her.
    The MacMartins soundly congratulated her and Cathal, as did the half dozen people Edmee scornfully called halflings. Some of the Purebloods did as well and some were merely polite. It was the group with Scymynd and Edmee that troubled her the most. They did not even pretend to welcome the marriage. When toasts were made, that group was bold in their refusal to join in them. Bridget began to wonder why they had even attended the wedding and had the sinking feeling that their reasons would only stir up more trouble.
    “I should ask them to leave,” murmured Cathal as he took Bridget’s hand in his and held it against his thigh while he watched Scymynd spread his poisonous opinions through the crowd.
    Bridget knew Cathal was tense despite the languid way he sprawled in his seat at the laird’s table. “I think that would be seen as an insult and, mayhap, be used against us.”
    “Tis what I think as weel. Tis all that binds my tongue. Though it galls me to ignore his insults to ye, and me, I see no gain in acting against them right now.”
    “Nay. In truth, it may cost him more to act so poorly at his own laird’s wedding, to behave so ungraciously whilst ye behave graciously.” She grimaced when Cathal looked at her and cocked one eyebrow. “Tis a possibility.”
    “Aye. Mayhap. A wee one. Now, I must go speak to James.”
    “Twas good of the church and Father James to allow us to marry at night.”
    “Verra good. And verra expensive,” he drawled. “I will be but a moment.”
    Cathal had only just disappeared into the crowd and Bridget was just turning to speak to Mora when she sensed someone standing behind her. She did not really need to hear Mora’s whispered curse to know that this someone was not there to wish her a long life and much happiness. It was no surprise when Edmee moved from behind her and sat down in the laird’s chair.
    “Ye