There would be no reading of the banns. No laughing maiden lasses with flowers woven into their hair. No pipers or dancers in all their finery to greet them at the church steps. The only demonstration of the celebration was the beautiful cream-colored dress her sister Isabella ordered to be made for her.
The wedding was arranged in two days, and it took place in the morning in the chapel beside the laird’s study. The priest was from the village, and Niall and Maisie met him for the first time as they stood before him at the altar just moments before the ceremony began.
Isabella and Morrigan, Cinaed and the laird were the only other people present, though Maisie thought she saw Blair hovering in the shadows outside the chapel door. They planned to follow the service with a celebratory meal in Dalmigavie’s Great Hall.
The hastiness of the arrangements suited Maisie perfectly. She stepped into the chapel carrying a bouquet of fresh flowers and rosemary from the castle gardens. She stole a glance at Niall, standing beside her. Tension showed in the lines around his blue eyes. He was weary.
Once again, they’d had no opportunity for even a few moments to themselves. Last night, after he’d left her at the table, he and Cinaed and Searc had disappeared and didn’t return to the Great Hall while she was still there.
Maisie was at peace with whatever Niall’s motivation was for coming to the Highlands. Still, questions piled on top of each other. Three people had arrived from the Borders, supposedly sent from the queen. But Niall was the one who spent endless time in the company of Cinaed and the rest of them. The Mackintosh leaders trusted him, and Cinaed kept him at his side. Trying to get answers from her sister was useless. She’d bluntly told Maisie not to ask her. Isabella’s loyalty lay with her husband.
As the priest started to recite a combination of Gaelic and Latin prayers, Maisie thought of the conversation she’d had with Morrigan a couple of days earlier. She was relieved to have had a chance to speak her mind to Niall at the door to the Great Hall last night. At least, her heart and mind were clear about who she was and what she was bringing to their marriage.
His secrets. Whatever they were, she hoped he’d reveal them to her once they were wed.
The priest continued with the prayers. One thing Maisie knew, these vows of marriage held no promise of a happily-ever-after. The blessings brought no guarantee of what could happen next month, next week, or even tomorrow. She could only celebrate the joy of today.
The priest asked if there was a ring. A moment of panic ensued before Isabella whispered something to Niall and handed him a small pouch.
A moment later, Maisie stared at the ring he placed on her finger. A knot grew in her throat. A wedding ring. No simple affair. A golden band, ornate with the craftsmanship of human hands. A circle, with no beginning and no end. A symbol of the infinite power of love, of devotion. The gold ring was Isabella’s. The one Archibald put on her finger on their wedding day.
Maisie recalled standing beside her sister the first time she married. There were no guests, except for a fifteen-year-old Morrigan and a fourteen-year-old Maisie. Isabella wore a grey dress and refused to take the entire day away from her patients. The remote expression on her face had been a clue to her state of mind. The only thing that hinted at celebration was this ornate gold ring Archibald put on Isabella’s finger during the ceremony.
She stared at the gleaming ring on her finger. Another reminder that life was short and nothing was permanent.
Morrigan stepped forward and looped a ribbon around Maisie and Niall’s joined hands and kissed her on the cheek. The warm glow of love swelled in her heart. How deep their feelings of sisterhood had grown.
As the priest began again, emotions formed a knot in her throat, and Maisie looked up at Niall’s profile. She loved him. She wanted this marriage. Regardless of the marshy ground that her present and future life seemed to offer, she knew she was doing the right thing.
In that moment, she also thought of her friend Fiona. Niall’s sister. The one who brought them together, who promoted their romance. She knew about their intention to marry. She couldn’t wait to celebrate their union. Along with her daughters, Fiona was his closest relative. And she wasn’t here to stand with them.
From the hint of sadness in Niall’s eyes, she guessed his thoughts might be dwelling as well on those loved ones. She didn’t want to think of Fiona being gone forever.
“God’s blessing on you, husband and wife,” the priest announced brusquely.
As they stood together, Maisie didn’t know what to do, what to say. The joy she’d expected to feel at this moment was complicated by the dangers and the sadness and the memories.
Niall slipped his hand from the ribbon binding them and gently lifted her chin until she was looking into his eyes.
“To see her is to love her, and love but her forever; for Nature made her what she is, and never made another.”
The sound of his deep voice pulled her heartstrings. For a moment, the old Niall was back. The curtain was taken down. She saw the man that she knew. The tears she’d been holding back spilled over onto her cheeks. Nothing that the priest said could match these words. Niall’s lips were tender and warm and full of promise when he kissed her. But too soon, he drew back.
Niall turned to the men for their congratulations, and Maisie hugged Isabella, while Morrigan impatiently waited her turn.
“It will all be well. Trust each other,” Isabella whispered.
Maisie looked at her sister, her heart singing at those brief words. A revelation, a hint not to worry.
Morrigan’s hug was followed by a fierce scowl. “You’re committed now. Make it work. Fight for what you want and what you deserve.”
Maisie smiled and motioned over her shoulder to her new husband. “I don’t think there’s any need for fighting. I spoke to him last night.”
Morrigan hugged her again. “Good. I don’t want to waste time and be the meddling sister in your marriage.”
As the laird ushered them all toward the Great Hall, Isabella again pulled Maisie aside to whisper in her ear.
“I’m not doing anything in the proper order. And I’m sorry for it. We should have spoken about this last night. But now…” She affectionately touched Maisie’s cheek. “Cinaed thought … I thought … that you two might appreciate having some time to yourselves. Your own private bedchamber.”
Maisie felt the heat rising into her face and knew her color must be a match for the pink blooms in Isabella’s cheeks.
“But is that what you want? Are you ready to be … well, a wife?”
She pressed her palm against her belly to calm the flutters there. Never in her life had she imagined she’d be talking to her sister about wanting or not wanting sex.
“I do … want it,” she whispered back. “I loved him before, and I love him now. This marriage is no hardship for me. It’s a blessing. I’m ready.”
The sigh of relief from Isabella was pronounced. As they reached the door of the Great Hall, she kissed Maisie on both cheeks. Niall came to her side, and Isabella stepped back with a smile.
Maisie knew he was feeling tense from the stiff set of his shoulders. His gaze was on the door of the Great Hall. They were to enter in a few moments.
Maisie brushed her fingers against his and waited until his blue eyes met hers.
“Thank you for reciting those lines of poetry.” Their fingers entangled. “To see him is to love him, and love but him forever; for Nature made him what he is, and never made another.”
His feelings flashed across his face for the briefest of moments, but she saw it. His eyes softened with a look of love, and his lips turned up in a smile. His hand tightened possessively around hers.
“I can’t lose you.”
Suddenly, she understood. From the first moment when Fiona went missing, he’d tried to protect her by keeping her at arm’s length. He didn’t want Maisie to be used in the same way that his sister was. And yet, fate had taken a turn. They were here, married. The stars had aligned somehow. And in a moment, they would be presented as husband and wife to the household and everyone at Dalmigavie, friends and enemies alike. She guessed, it was the enemies that worried him. She wanted to remind him that there were no dangers at this fortress in the Highlands. Of any place in Scotland, she was safe here.
“You won’t lose me. You can’t.” She tugged on his arm as Morrigan waved to them to come into the Great Hall.