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Keith wound long strips of the two tartans around Ewen’s and Alison’s loosely clasped hands, through and under and around again, tucking the ends into their waiting grips. When the knot was prepared, he settled his own hands gently on top. He took a deep breath, met each set of smiling eyes, and said, “Make your vows.”
Ewen spoke first, voice cutting strongly through the dawn mist. “I, Ewen Cameron, take thee, Alison Grant, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, ‘til death us depart: and thereto I plight thee my troth.”
Keith felt Alison squeeze Ewen’s hands, and her voice rang out clear and bell-like on the heels of his vow. “I, Alison Grant, take thee, Ewen Cameron, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, ‘til death us depart: and thereto I give thee my troth.”
“I, Keith Windham, stand as witness,” Keith attested, and removed his hands from theirs to take a step back. Now grinning broadly, Ewen and Alison tightened their hands around the ends of the tartans and pulled gently apart, leaving a brightly colored knot suspended in the air between them.
As soon as it was tied they came back together, Ewen bending low to pull Alison into a deep kiss. Keith suppressed his instinctive glance away – he was slowly learning that he was invited to watch these moments.
Presently they parted, Alison setting the knot carefully to the side while Ewen drew out another strip of the Grant tartan and a similarly proportioned strip of blue silk. Alison took the end of her tartan; a moment behind, Keith took his end of the silk.
Alison grabbed both Keith’s hands in hers, taking care that neither of them dropped their cloths. Then Ewen stepped forward and began recreating the knot Keith had so recently formed himself.
Keith’s hands were chilled, as always in this raw land. Alison’s hands, still carrying Ewen’s warmth, burned like a brand. The smile in her eyes had lost some of the giddiness it had when looking at Ewen; she looked at Keith with a shyer, gentler joy. Though his heart was pounding in his chest, Keith felt an answering smile lift the corners of his mouth.
Ewen finished winding the cloths and tucked the ends into Keith’s and Alison’s hands, the blue to Alison and the tartan to Keith. Then he settled his own hands atop theirs, a comforting weight, and directed, “Make your vows.” His voice held just as much warmth as his hands did, though Keith could not tear his own eyes away from Alison’s to meet his friend’s.
He cleared his throat, determined that his vow should travel just as far across the lake as Ewen’s had. “I, Keith Windham, take thee, Alison Grant, to my wedded wife. . .”
They were words Keith never thought to say to any woman, yet they flowed smoothly from his tongue. He felt his heartbeat slow at the sense of rightness in them, in Alison’s sweetly upturned face, in the tight squeeze she gave his hands as he finished, just as she had Ewen’s.
Her smile broadened once more into a grin. Once again her voice rang out, her conviction resonating through the once-hollow chambers of Keith’s heart. “. . . in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, ‘til death us depart: and thereto I give thee my troth.”
But right as it had felt to make his vow to Alison, still he trembled to hear her pledge to him. Should they ever be brought before the Kirk Session, she would undoubtedly be found guilty of bigamy. She could face imprisonment or even transport. How dared he let her take this step?
Fearful though Keith still was, Ewen moved them forward nonetheless. His “I, Ewen Cameron, stand as witness” settled deep in Keith’s chest, and Alison gently freed her hands from Keith’s, pulling their knot into existence between them. She was the one to tug his face down to meet hers, her lips just as demanding on his as they had been on Ewen’s.
And then she pulled back again, leaving the knot in Keith’s hands as she turned to take up the final pieces of cloth, another strip of blue silk and a Cameron tartan.
Ewen took the knot from Keith, laying it gently to the side, then stepped forward a pace to face Keith direct. His countenance was resolute, but there was still a hint of a smile in his eyes.
Alison tucked the ends of their cloths into their hands, then Ewen took Keith’s hands in his. He spoke his vow, and again something in Keith quailed. Keith’s vows with Alison were forbidden, true; but this vow Ewen made now was so unspeakable there was not even law against it. Keith’s heart pounded in his chest again, as strong as in the moments before a cavalry charge.
Keith found his eyes drifting out to the loch, seeking any evidence that their actions were observed; he forced his attention back to Ewen and was immediately caught in those deep blue eyes. They were crinkled at the corners, the smile formerly hinted at spreading now, as Ewen finished his plight. But more, those eyes held a challenge for Keith, almost a dare.
Keith would always rise to that. As he spoke, again he felt the rightness settle over him. “I, Keith Windham, take thee, Ewen Cameron, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, ‘til death us depart: and thereto I give thee my troth.”
Alison proclaimed her witness; they pulled the third knot tight. This time Keith closed the distance first, drawing Ewen into a fierce clinch.