Her face was beautiful even with the tension he saw there. She was right. They did not know each other enough yet, but he would fix that. After the ceremony, after he spoke with her steward, Cain would whisk her away to a cabin in the forest, holding her there for as long as it took for them to trust each other. He would win her smile back like he won everything, with a solid strategy and well executed plans. He would also stroke her body to shattering bliss, pulling every little secret from her. Did she have more secrets? No matter. If she did, he would win them from her lips.

Ella took a step toward him and froze, her eyes cast down at the bouquet clasped in her hands. Was she frightened? He couldn’t imagine his courageous bride afraid. Even with the full brunt of his anger yesterday, she’d stood with strength as she’d explained. But there, at the back of the aisle, she did not move.

Look at me. See me, lass.

He kept the grin that had grown on his face, willing her to meet his gaze, but she continued to stare down at the bent wildflowers in her hands. Unease slid up his spine, and his hand moved to the hilt of his sword.

When she raised her eyes, they went first to Kenneth, a look of absolute shock on her fine features. Even…panic.

“Something is wrong,” Cain murmured.

“Aye,” Joshua said softly next to him.

Ella’s gaze turned from side to side as if she were searching for someone.

“Ella,” Cain called. Her gaze met his, and he saw a glistening in her eyes. Tears? He took a stride toward her, and she held up a hand to stop him, shaking her head. Bloody hell! A tear slid from her eye, and she spun around, still grasping the broken bouquet, and grabbed her skirts to race back through the archway.

“She is running out on ye?” Joshua said, his earlier jesting voice deadly serious.

“She is going back upstairs, not leaving the castle,” Bàs said. “Perhaps she forgot her handkerchief. Don’t lasses always carry a handkerchief?”

Gideon’s hand caught Cain’s arm. “Something is not right. Her man looks confused. This is unexpected.”

Cain yanked away from his brother, striding up the aisle full of rising murmurs. Kenneth fell in line with him. “There was terror in her eyes,” was all Cain said.

Before Cain could follow her under the archway, Viola stepped before him, a hand on his chest. “Bridal nervousness,” she said. “I saw her run down the corridor that leads to the chapel. Let her alone for a few minutes to gather her courage. She might be thinking that she does not want to be a Sinclair.”

“My lady is the Sutherland chief, with too much honor to go back on her commitment,” Kenneth said, his voice rough.