Without thought, I said, “Elin.” The moment it left my lips, I held my breath for fear Duncan would rise and call me out as the impostor I was.
“Hold out your right hand,” the priest said.
I lifted mine, as did Duncan, and expected him to slip a ring on as he said his vows. Instead, his hand covered mine and an electric charge shot up my arm. He must have felt it too, as his eyes widened in surprise—or was that alarm? I wasn’t sure—as he stared at me. His eyes quickly averted to our hands as the priest wrapped our hands in blue silk. Tingling landed on my wrist, but I couldn’t see. Even when the cloth was removed, the sleeve of my dress extended to cover a part of my hand. Until I undressed, I wouldn’t be able to investigate the source of pain.
“Repeat after me. ‘I, Elin, hereby take Duncan to be my husband and thereto plight thee my troth.’”
If nothing else, his word choice confirmed I wasn’t in my time. I did as asked and spoke slowly and softly. I hoped Duncan wouldn’t pick up my American accent, something unlikely to be heard in this time. I also couldn’t fake what I didn’t know. I had no idea where his wife-to-be came from, though I assumed it would be somewhere in Scotland.
Then it was Duncan’s turn. “I, Duncan, hereby take Elin to be my wife and thereto plight thee my troth.”
The priest then spoke to the crowd rather than us. “It is my understanding that the gifts have already been exchanged.”
Was he referring to betrothal gifts? I couldn’t ask.
“Aye,” someone said from behind us.
“Well then,” the priest began, “let this betrothal stand.” He removed the cloth that bound our hands, though Duncan didn’t let go. Then the priest added, “I now pronounce them husband and wife.” The crowd roared behind us. When they quieted enough for Duncan to hear, the priest said, “You may now kiss the bride.”
Duncan used his handhold on me to help me to my feet. Then he faced me. So things didn’t get awkward, I faced him as well. He took both his hands and slowly lifted my veil.
I wanted to close my eyes, afraid of his judgment and disappointment. Both would be a blow. But he showed neither as he let the veil fall behind my head. His gaze was steady on mine.
“Come on now. She’s a bonnie lassie,” someone yelled.
He bent and time seemed to stop until his lips met mine. I was the one left wanting as he placed what could only be labeled a chaste kiss upon my lips.
Then he turned, slipped his right hand into my left one and led me out of the chapel.
Dread filled me with each step. This Duncan didn’t like me much more than the Duncan of my time. I considered myself egoless, yet the disappointment hurt my heart to the core. I couldn’t comprehend why. I barely knew the man. There was a saying that the heart wants what the heart wants. Still, didn’t you have to know a person for that? I didn’t believe in love at first sight. Why would I? I’d never kissed a man until today and my first kiss would forever be a memory of a man who hated the sight of me. Was that why it pained me so much?
I’d been so deep in my head that I hadn’t paid much attention to where we were going. When we arrived, I recognized the great hall where Duncan had his meals in my present time. It was transformed. The walls were adorned with banners in the colors of the plaid I wore and included a family crest. There were multiple long tables parallel to the one I’d seen Duncan sitting at.
He didn’t take me to one of those. He paraded me through the crowd to a table perpendicular to the rest at the head of the room on the modern stage Duncan had stared at what was only hours ago from my perspective.
Despite not wanting to marry me, Duncan pulled back my chair and helped me sit. I was reminded of the words from his friend earlier, saying he was a good man. Was he? The jury was still out on that.
Two maids came and set plates in front of us along with two filled mugs. I took the opportunity to glance either side of me. The man who had walked me down through the halls and down the aisle to an awaiting Duncan sat next to him. He caught my gaze and grinned.
“Ye should be pleased, brother,” he said to Duncan with a mischievous grin.
“Bi sàmhach, Eaon,” Duncan said. I had no idea what that meant, but the man Duncan called Eon, or at least it sounded like that if I had the name right, laughed boisterously.