“And I nearly forgot to call ye Father.” Rab grinned as he watched Michael dip a quill into an inkpot and wipe the nib on the side. The former warrior cum holy man was quick to record the names.
“I must warn ye that this is irregular, and nae because of how close together I’ll post the banns. This isnae either of yer home parishes. The point of the banns is to prevent clandestine marriages, and I’d say this is exactly what they’re meant to keep from happening. Yer families and the king could still contest the marriage.”
“Catherine has lived in Stirling for three years, and I’m here until King Robert sees me. At the rate I’m going, it might be a decade. Dunblane is within the burgh of Stirling. Couldnae we argue that any parish within the burgh could be our—or at the vera least, Catherine’s—home parish?”
“I wouldnae stake ma place in heaven on it, but I could make a sound argument for it. However, nay one from court ever attends Masses here.”
“Can we worry aboot that if someone stands against the marriage?”
“I suppose, but I’m giving ye fair warning.” Michael paused as he considered an alternative. “Have ye heard of a marriage license?”
“A what?”
“It’s nae something the Church speaks of often, but to discourage marriages by consent and recognizing there are myriad reasons that make reading the banns difficult, the Church can issue a marriage license to make the union legal if a couple canna observe the appropriate period of waiting.”
“And how much does the Church ask a mon to donate?” Rab cocked an eyebrow, returning Michael’s grin as the priest shrugged.
“We need a new roof.”
“I think nae, Father.” Rab laughed loudly. “I’m nae putting a roof over yer head or this cathedral.”
“I suppose I shall have to go back to praying for that. Rab, the bishop willna be happy that I suggested this, nor will he be happy when he learns I issued one for twenty pounds.”
“Twenty?” Rab stood gobsmacked.
“Aye. Do ye have any idea how much the ladies at court spend for one gown? Some pay upwards of sixty pounds. Ye are in Stirling now, as ye already pointed out.”
Rab stood, aghast. Twenty pounds was nearly a fifth of the money he’d brought to pay his clan’s taxes. He already knew it would cost the MacLarens far more than the one hundred and five pounds he’d brought for the levies to pay reparations to the crown and the MacFarlanes. He couldn’t afford to spend even a portion of it on a marriage license.
“We shall have to wait for the banns to post,” Rab conceded as they left the sacristy. He looked at Cullen, who appeared as regretful as Rab felt.
“Could Lady Catherine…?”
“I willna ask her that,” Rab objected. He knew Catherine would pay the fee if she could, but he didn’t want to begin their marriage by spending whatever allowance she might have saved.
Michael nodded. “Then I will read the banns on Sunday and the two holy days. Ye can still wed in a little over a sennight. But ye must be present, and it’s best if Lady Catherine were, too. It helps make this appear as though Dunblane is now yer home parish.”
“I pray she can leave court each morning.”
“I pray the same.” Michael made the sign of the cross before Rab, who dipped his head and followed suit, moving his hand in tandem with Michael’s. “Godspeed, Rab.”
“Thank ye, Father.” Rab genuflected to the cross above the altar before he and Cullen rejoined the men outside. Rab mounted Bolt and led the men back to Stirling, arriving as the bells rang for the evening meal.
Chapter 10
Catherine watched Rab ride into the bailey as she crossed the castle’s expansive square. She walked beside Emelie Campbell and her husband Dominic, who carried their infant son, Nic. It was obvious Emelie was expecting again as she waddled with each step. She and Emelie hadn’t been close while the latter was a lady-in-waiting, and she wasn’t close with Emelie’s younger sister Blythe, but Blythe was always kind to her. Andrew asked Dom to watch over Emelie while he was away since she’d known Dominic, and his brother, Brodie, for most of her life. She felt comfortable with him, and she discovered she enjoyed Emelie’s company now that neither viewed the other as a rival.
Catherine noticed how exhausted Rab appeared, his leine an off-shade of beige after traveling for so many days. Dirt covered his boots, and mud splattered his legs. He was still the most handsome man she’d ever seen, and she longed to dash across the bailey to launch herself into his arms. Their eyes met, and Rab dropped his chin. It appeared deferential, but the excitement that entered his gaze told Catherine the trip was a success. She glanced toward the stable’s roof, certain Rab followed her gaze. When she glanced back, one side of his mouth twitched. She recognized that expression too. It was one they’d shared many times over the years when they wished to sneak away at gatherings.
“MacLaren,” Dominic greeted Rab when it was inevitable that they crossed paths.
“Campbell.” Rab dismounted and handed the reins to a stable boy. He bowed to the two women. “Lady Emelie. Lady Catherine.”
“It’s nice to see you, Rab,” Emelie offered despite her husband’s deepening scowl.
“The same to ye, Lady Emelie.” Rab shifted his attention to Lady Catherine. “Lady Catherine, I hope ye are well.”
“I am.” Catherine tempered her smile. “I’ve enjoyed Emelie and Dominic’s company while my cousin has been away. They’ve kept an otherwise uneventful time entertaining.” Catherine looked over at the babe, Nic, and waggled her eyebrows. The little boy cooed and gurgled. “I’ve made a new friend.”
