Lady Eilean

Chapter 61

The great hall was already bursting with people as Alex and I made our way through the double doors. Wafts of ale, wine, sweat, and fire produced a heady blend of smells that whirled in the air, mingling with the thrill of the attendees. Fealty, the final and most important ceremony of the Gathering had arrived.

We pushed our way through the crowd. Ducking under elbows and dodging the splash of liquid from unsteady hands holding aloft overfilled cups. Partygoers stopped us and offered us sloppy congratulations on our wedding. Men pinched our cheeks and blessed us with a large brood of boys. We waved off their good wishes. Women hugged us, lamenting that we would soon be gone from Ellesmure.

Emerging from the crowd, at last, Alex and I arrived at the foot of the dais in the middle of the hall. The same stage I had mounted for my Standing and wedding. My brothers were there, standing with stiff posture to the left of Father, who sat on the Laird's seat. Mother, perched dutifully behind his right shoulder. Earlier, she had informed me that I would stand alone in a place of honor set aside just for me as thanks for my service to the island during the war.

Noting my arrival, Mother crossed the stage. "There you are! What took you so long?"

I looked over my shoulder at the crowd and shrugged. "Playing the role of the willful daughter brought to heel makes me less than cooperative."

Alex snickered and rubbed my lower back, "There were many who wanted to celebrate our marriage."

In front of so many people, Mother couldn't roll her eyes or berate me. Not if she was about to beg for their fidelity. She could not stop herself from balking; however, when she noticed my outfit. "What in the world are you wearing?"

I had spent yesterday tied up in Mother's idea of a proper wedding dress. A suffocating contraption of lace and so many bows that even Innis found it distasteful. For Fealty, for my last appearance as a MacLeod, I had returned to my usual attire of pants, boots, and vest.

"You could have worn the dresses I ordered for you," Mother said, looking at me with distaste.

I smiled at her and wiggled my left hand in her face. The gold band on my middle finger was bright in the light. "You no longer own me," I sing-songed. "I'm Leslie property, now."

Her sour frown was worth my disgust at the remark. Despite working on the Charter until well past lunch today, there still was no signed document. Ellesmure wasn't mine. Alex legally owned me, and I was about to lose my home. I imagined a rod of steel replacing my spine. I would not falter. I refused to look defeated. Everything I worked for was moments away from being ripped from me.

Mother pointed to a spot on the stage marked with a charcoal circle downstage of the Laird's seat. "Stand there and don't move. Don't fidget... just... behave yourself."

I smiled with all the sweetness I could muster. It wasn't much.

Alex laughed and pecked my cheek. "Good luck."

Climbing the stage, I watched as Calum, Innis, and Angus emerged from the crowd and joined Alex. A little drunk. Their eyes were glassy and wide. They applauded and cheered for me as I stood in my assigned spot. I was glad to have them close, to feel their support. Bess, Wallis, and Meredith sat on a nearby bench. Father looked regal but tired. Alert, but with sloping shoulders that exaggerated the pallid color of his face.

Alan McNeill had told me a Gathering was the worst thing for a man as ill as my father. The strain of so many guests would wear away any progress that was made in his healing. They had been working together the past few weeks, and Father did boast longer periods of lucidity. But progress was hard-won and undone after every night of ruckus. Alan stood by the dais, his eyes fixed on my father, assessing every breath, every blink. I knew he would intervene the moment the ceremony became too much.