Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 30858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
“Have ye ever been so frightened ye wanted tae run and hide?” Genevieve hadn’t meant to ask the words out loud—or maybe she did, because she was looking for a sympathetic ear?
Mattina glanced at Genevieve, and this strange expression crossed her face. “No, milady, but I have felt verra frightened, and I can tell ye are verra scared.” Mattina glanced down and continued to smooth her hands down her gown. “But I am sure everything will be okay.”
Genevieve nodded, but Mattina was no longer looking at her. She hoped things would be okay, but only time would tell that for sure. There was a knock at the chamber door, and then it was pushed open. One of the servants stepped inside.
“Milady, everything is ready, if ye are finished with preparations.”
Genevieve took a deep breath and nodded to her reflection. She was as ready as she would ever be, she supposed. She turned and faced the servant and clenched her hands into tight fists. She followed the servant out and tried to control her breathing as she walked down the long stone corridor. She saw the open doorway to the room she would be married in, and her pulse raced even faster.
But right when she thought she would faint, her father stepped through the archway and smiled at her. They moved toward one another at the same time, and her father reached out and took her hands. This was certainly not a traditional high-society wedding, but then again, Bronson didn’t follow rules of any kind.
“Ye’re beautiful, lass.”
Genevieve smiled and willed herself not to cry tears of happiness.
Her father squeezed her hands and moved to stand beside her, ready to give her away.
“Child, are ye okay?” he asked softly.
She turned and looked at him, at the way his face was wrinkled from working out in the field during the summer days, at the age that covered him even more since her mother had passed. He had been her rock since the moment she had come into this world, but now he would have to step back and let another man care for her.
She trusted her father implicitly, even if she was unsure of this path she would be taking, but she knew everything he did was for her best interest. He may never want for anything ever again if he so chose it that way, but she knew her father enjoyed the simple life. That was all either of them had ever known, and up until now, she had never seen herself in a different situation. “I’m okay, just verra nervous.”
Her father wrapped his arm around her shoulders and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I feel like this is a good match, sweetheart. I kno’ Lord Bronson will treat ye honorably, lass.”
She smiled and nodded, but even the smile felt forced. She trusted her gut, and her instincts told her this wasn’t a bad match, just a very scary one, because it was new. She took a very deep breath, grabbed her father’s hand, and nodded. “I’m ready, Da.”
Her father smiled and nodded, and then they walked through the archway together and into the great room that had been converted for their wedding. White flowers and the tartan of Clan Lyon adorned the hall, but it was hard to focus on anything else aside from the man who stood so close to her now.
Bronson stood in his Scottish ceremony wear. He wore his kilt, one that made him look so handsome but deadly at the same time. He was shirtless, and although he didn’t wear the official ceremonial wedding attire, he was dressed as a warrior should be. She swallowed her nervousness and looked at the golden, battle-scarred skin of his chest. The masculinity poured from him, and her fear took a step back to her desire and female appreciation for him.
Normally, Bronson and his men would be dressed in their finest clothing, but these were not lords and princes who were trying to show their wealth. These men were of the warrior breed, and because of that, they only wore their kilts and shoes, had their weapons strapped to them in a show of their dangerous air, and clearly did nothing in the traditional sense. Several men stood beside Bronson, their postures stiff, hardened, but all showing their respect. This was certainly not how a wedding ceremony was normally done, but she continued to tell herself this hadn’t been normal courting. She just needed to accept how things went with Clan Lyon.
She stopped in front of him, and Bronson took her hand. The ceremony went rather quickly, with not many guests in attendance for the actual ceremony. But afterward, she knew they would walk the streets of the village with pipers leading the way, and then everyone would follow them back to the manor for a grand celebration. But none of that mattered right now, because Genevieve found herself transfixed to the sight of her soon-to-be husband. Blessings were said, and then they ripped their wedding plaids in half and tied them together as a symbol of uniting their families together.