By midmorning the priest had arrived from Glenkirk Abbey. His first order of business was to baptize Morag Hay. Then he went into the Hay burying ground and prayed over the graves of Muire and Dugald Hay. The skirl of pipes was heard coming up the ben from first one side, then the other. Elsbeth and Margery were almost sick with excitement. Which of the clans would reach the crest of the ben first? The Forbeses or the Inneses? A clan feud was averted, however, when by prearrangement the two families marched into the clearing before Hay Tower together. The Forbeses, in their blue-and-green tartan with its single white stripe, had come up one side of the ben. The Inneses, their tartan a more complicated plaid of red, black, and green with narrow stripes of yellow, white, and blue, had come up the other side. Each had a single piper with them and together with the Gordon piper brought back by James, the ben rang with wild and savage music such as it had never heard.

Fiona Hay, dressed in a fine green velvet skirt and white linen blouse, the red-and-green Hay tartan across her bosom, a small flat green velvet cap with an eagle's feather upon her dark head, stepped from the house. She wore the clan badge of a Hay chieftain on her shoulder, and her family's plant badge, a sprig of mistletoe, was pinned to her cap. "I bid those who are to become my kinsmen welcome," she said. "Have ye come in peace?"

"We have," the Forbeses and Inneses chorused.

"Come into the house, then, that we may celebrate the marriages between our families." She ushered them into the hall.

The hall had been swept clean. A roaring fire burned in the fireplace. The Gordon wine casks had been set up to one side of the hall. The high board glowed with candles. The clansmen crowded into the hall, Forbes, Gordon, and Innes plaids mingling. The two fathers of the bridegrooms immediately saw the laird of Loch Brae and hurried to pay their respects, for he was the most important chieftain in the near region. They wondered why he was there. Then, simultaneously, each remembered that Angus Gordon had inherited the lands in the glen that had belonged to the Hay sisters' mother's family. Perhaps the laird felt some sort of responsibility because the lasses had been so unfairly disinherited, and had come to the wedding to smooth over any hard feelings.

Andrew Innes introduced his son, Walter, to the laird. Then Douglas Forbes presented his son, Colin. Angus Gordon was gracious, wishing both young men a long and happy life with their brides and, of course, a houseful of sons.

The Innes chief, bolder than his companions, asked, "What brings ye to Ben Hay, my lord? I was not aware ye knew Dugald Hay's lasses."

"Mistress Fiona purchased the cattle yer sons are receiving as dowry from me," Angus Gordon said pleasantly. "I have decided to take an interest in the welfare of the Hay sisters from now on, Andrew Innes. 'Tis not easy for them, although I will admit that Mistress Fiona has done well by her sisters so far. Still, when none knew they were living upon the ben 'twas safer. Now, however, I fear for them. I shall take Mistress Fiona, Jean, and Morag back to Brae with me today and set my own men upon the ben to watch over it for them."

"An excellent idea, my lord!" Douglas Forbes said jovially, with a smug grin at Andrew Innes. The Forbes chieftain knew that Innes, a recent widower, had planned to court Fiona Hay this very summer, with an eye to annexing the lands upon the ben for himself. And he hadn't intended taking no for an answer. Douglas Forbes chuckled softly to see Andrew Innes so neatly foiled. He had not been happy at the thought of an Innes taking over the ben, and its lands, but he had a wife, and all his sons were wed.

The priest from the Glenkirk Abbey announced that he was ready to begin the ceremony. Fiona Hay led her sisters down the stairs, putting Elsbeth's hand in that of Walter Innes, and Margery's hand in that of Colin Forbes. The twins were garbed as their elder sister, in green velvet skirts and linen blouses. Neither wore a plaid, or a cap upon her head. Instead their hair was loose and flowing to signify their innocence and virtue. In their hands they carried posies of wildflowers that Jean and Morag had gathered for them earlier. The priest performed the ceremony for the two bridal couples together. When he finally pronounced them man and wife, each of the bridegrooms carefully laid their own clan tartans, in sash form, across the breasts of their brides, affixing them to the girls' shoulders with pretty pewter pins. Margery's was decorated with a piece of green jasper; Elsbeth's was studded with black agate. As the pipes began to play once more, the young couples kissed each other, and congratulations rang through the hall.

Fiona noted with gratitude several Gordon clansmen aiding her two aged servants in passing wine to her guests. The wedding party settled itself about the high board. There were trestles below for the others. Plates were heaped high with lamb, fresh bread, butter, and cheese. The goblets never seemed to grow empty. When everything had been eaten but there was wine yet to be drunk, the trestles were pushed back to the sides of the hall. Crossed swords were laid upon the floor, and as the pipes began to play, the laird of Loch Brae danced for the entertainment of the guests, nimbly treading between the swords, slowly at first, and then prancing more quickly until the dance reached its ending. With a shout each bridegroom followed him. The hall rang with merriment and goodwill.

"Yer most graceful, my lord," Fiona said. "Ye have made more than one contribution to this day, and I am grateful to ye for it. I don't believe this wedding would have been as fine without ye."

Angus Gordon nodded in acknowledgment of her appreciation, and then he said, "That silly fool, Andrew Innes, lusts after ye. Have ye noticed it, mistress?"

"It isn't me, my lord," Fiona laughed. " 'Tis the ben and its lands he wants. That's all."

"Then he's a fool, Fiona Hay, for yer far more valuable than the lands ye believe he covets, and tonight ye shall be mine!" His voice was ragged with his desire, and he silently cursed himself for being so open with her. She would learn soon enough her power over him.

She could hear the hunger in his voice, a hunger she could not understand. A hunger for what? The intensity of it, however, sent a ripple down her spine. For a brief moment she closed her eyes in order to regain her composure. It wasn't that he frightened her, because he didn't. Rather, he excited her with an unspoken promise of something wonderful to come. She should probably be very ashamed of herself, Fiona thought, but she wasn't. She had made an outrageous bargain with this man, but what else could she have done if these marriages were to be brought successfully to a favorable conclusion? She had done the right thing. What happened to her did not matter. Fiona would put a high price on herself, for if she was to be the laird of Loch Brae's mistress, Jeannie and Morag would get better husbands for themselves. Fiona promised her mother when she had died that she would look to her lasses, and Fiona had done so.

It was two hours past noon, and time for the brides to depart with their new husbands. Their chests with their clothing and linens were lifted up by their new clansmen. Outside the house, Fiona turned over four cattle apiece to each of her brothers-in-law. "The dowry, paid in full," she said, and they accepted them, nodding in agreement. With each clan's piper playing and leading the way, the Forbeses and the Inneses departed down their respective sides of the ben, driving the beasts before them. The brides hugged Fiona, Jean, and Morag but once, then were happily gone, arms linked with those of their new husbands. The remaining Hay sisters stood with Flora and Tam until the sound of the pipes had faded completely. It had been a gray day, but they had not noticed until now.

Flora sniffled, wiping her rheumy eyes with her apron. "God keep them safe, my bairns," she sobbed.

"Now, then, old woman," her husband said gruffly, but Flora cut him short.

"Don't ye scold me, Tam Hay!" she said fiercely. "Yer just as brokenhearted as I am, and don't ye attempt to deny it!"

The Gordon clansmen were beginning to regroup in the clearing before the tower house. "It is time for us to go, too," Angus Gordon said to Fiona Hay. He turned to the elderly servants. "I would have ye stay here tonight. Pack the lassies' belongings, and tomorrow my brother will return with the men to bring ye to Brae."

"Aye, my lord," they chorused, accepting his authority, and Flora curtsied to him.

"Can we walk to Brae by nightfall?" Fiona asked him.

"Jamie has left the horses at the foot of the ben," the laird told her. “Have ye ever ridden?"

"The pony, but not often," Fiona admitted. "I would like to learn to really ride, my lord. Will ye teach me?"

"Aye, lassie," he promised her, taking her hand in his. "I will teach ye to ride all manner of beasties before much more time has passed. Come, now, and let us go home to Brae." He turned and called to the two younger girls. "Jeannie, Morag, we are ready to go. Follow closely now, and don't get lost in the trees."

"Will I ever come back here, my lord?" Fiona asked, suddenly unsure of herself for the first time. Had it been only yesterday when he had come into her life? Somehow it seemed much longer.

"The ben is yers, lassie, as Dugald Hay's eldest child," he reassured her. "I'll keep it safe for ye, and I'll keep ye and yer sisters safe, too, but first we have a wee matter of payment for the eight cattle that have gone off down the ben with the Forbeses and the Inneses, and the four that went with the Keiths last autumn. Are ye ready to meet yer obligations, lassie?"