Jack wasn’t prepared to play for the clan. But everyone was suddenly looking at him, and he realized that he had secretly been waiting for such a moment.

“Yes, of course,” he said, anxiously touching his plaid.

“Then let us go, before the rain comes,” Torin said.

Their small party began the walk back to the castle.

Jack was surprised by the congregation that had gathered in the courtyard. At the sight of his hand bound to Adaira’s, cheers rose.

He didn’t stop; he led Adaira to the hall, forging a path in the crowd. He was only aware of her—how cold her hand was in his. How close she walked at his side, her crimson dress fluttering with each step. The sigh that escaped her.

Flowers rained down, soft and fragrant, catching like snow in their windswept hair.

The moment Jack and Adaira stepped into the hall as husband and wife for their celebration feast, the storm finally broke.

He took his place beside her at the laird’s table on the dais. Their hands were still bound by two stubborn knots—his left hand and her right—and Jack studied their fingers, entwined and hanging between their chairs.

“Eager to untie us, bard?” Adaira asked, and he glanced up to see she was watching him, a tilt of a smile on her lips.

“Should I be?”

“No, not yet. We’re supposed to be bound until I take you to bed, but I’ll have to break with tradition and untether you long before then.” Adaira indicated the dais, where Jack saw Lorna’s grand harp, waiting to be played.

That was their last moment of peace. The clan began to flood the hall as the storm raged beyond the walls. Conversations and laughter rose, loud as the thunder that rattled the windows. It was warm and muggy and damp and boisterous and joyful, and Jack felt overwhelmed by how suddenly his life had become woven tightly with so many others.

Dinner was delivered from the kitchens. Platters of salmon, fresh oysters, scallops, and smoked mussels were laid out on the table alongside venison with rowan jelly and slow-roasted lamb with preserved lemons. Bride’s pies were carried out next—small mince pies made of calves’ feet and mutton, apples, cinnamon, currants, and brandy. There were bowls of colcannon, a dish made of cabbage, carrots, potatoes with brown sauce butter, fritters, barley bannocks, and oatcakes. And then the desserts arrived—almond flory and pudding, sponge cakes and creams, honey cakes, shortbread, and meringue with berries.

Jack had never seen so much food. His stomach still felt knotted from the vows, but as soon as Adaira began to fill her plate, he followed her lead. He promptly discovered there was no time to eat. Everyone wanted a moment to speak to Adaira and her new groom, and Jack had no choice but to endure it and let his food grow cold.