Page 52 of Wicked Passions

“CRUACHAN.”

Chapter 11

Now, he believed in miracles.

Alastair pressed his fist to his mouth so he didn’t bawl like a babe at the sight of Callum and Isla standing in front of the altar in the king’s chapel, hands clasped, as the Bishop of Stirling joined them in holy matrimony.

In truth, his heartbeat still had not slowed after the events of the afternoon. Drinking poisoned wine. Isla running to warn them. The terrible purging with the sweetly affectionate aftermath. Then the swordfight, where Red had surged ahead with two points, before Callum rallied to defeat him.

Without a doubt, his hair would be silver on the morrow.

Once the ceremony was complete, the king rose from his chair, his face wreathed in smiles. “My heartiest congratulations to Callum and Isla MacIntyre, the Lord and Lady of Glennoe! There is but one more act to complete…a formal written alliance between the MacIntyre and Sutherland clans, full payment of dowry, and pledge of future support without interference. I ask that each of you present bear witness as Lord and Lady Sutherland come forward and acknowledge this decree from their sovereign.”

Alastair’s eyes widened with admiration. A royal decree. Approval for the marriage, couched in such terms that the Sutherlands could not protest nor renounce it without committing offences against the crown. The great warlord and his iron lady from the north might be furious with the tourney result, and that their misdeeds had failed, but they had no choice but to sign the document in front of the bishop and so many witnesses.

With stony faces, the Sutherlands did as they were bid, then retreated.

“Excellent,” said James. “Now, let us go and celebrate in my presence chamber. Master Graham, you may join us on this special occasion.”

Alastair’s gaze met Callum and Isla’s; his own frustration mirrored in their eyes. Much as they were grateful, the three of them wished to be alone. But unwilling to slight the king, they followed him to the presence chamber along with Sir Lachlan, Lady Marjorie, and Lady Janet.

All accepted a goblet of wine. None sipped from it.

James grinned at Callum as the seven of them stood in a small circle beside a window, the setting sun giving them all a peach-like glow. “You aged me at least ten years, Glennoe. What say you?”

Callum hesitated. “Might I ask a question, Your Grace? A delicate question?”

“I cannot say you shall receive an answer, but yes.”

“I feel like this week I have been shown favor. Granted small boons. Had secrets kept.”

The king exchanged a glance with Sir Lachlan, and his grin widened. “Do you now?”

“Why did you help me?”

“Why did you help us?” added Isla boldly.

“Because,” their sovereign said softly, his expression now solemn, “I believe in justice, of right overcoming wrong. But more so, I believe in the courage of men and women who fight for love, even if they break the rules.”

Lady Janet snorted, yet she glanced affectionately at the king. “Aye, but you’ll never know this until after the great trial. His Grace reveals no plans. But he does know the happenings in every hallway of his castles.”

“And I recognize steps…taught to my best student,” added Sir Lachlan, staring pointedly at Isla. She blushed.

Alastair coughed, unable to halt the boldest question of his life. “So you are not against a trio, Your Grace?”

“I find it hard to imagine His Grace denying love when he believes in it with his whole heart,” said Lady Marjorie softly.

James sighed, and just for a moment looked so lonely, that Alastair’s heart ached for him. Aye, he had sacrificed much for his country; the burden of Callum’s duties as laird was light compared to their king. “I do believe in love. It marches on even when all about you may falter. And if you find it you must hold it close, lest it be lost forever. So go. Go, you three and enjoy your wedding night. And when you return to Loch Etive, give my regards to Lady Maude. Tell her…tell her I now consider the debt repaid in full.”

All three stared at the king, their jaws about resting on the floor. Then Alastair dropped to one knee. “God save and keep ye, James, King of Scots.”

Callum bowed low, and Isla curtsied. “God save and keep you.”

“I wish you safe travels,” said the king, inclining his head. “When I next visit the Western Highlands, I shall expect a warm welcome at Glennoe.”

“It would be our honor to host you, Your Grace,” said Callum, bowing again.

When their sovereign walked away, Alastair, Callum, and Isla bid farewell to Sir Lachlan, Lady Marjorie, and Lady Janet, then took the opportunity to dash for the door. They must have looked a sight as they ran out of the King’s House, crossing the inner and outer close at pace until they reached the Stirling Castle gate.