Leah had spent too much of her life on the outside, looking in on wedlock with suchyearning.
No.
She finally had a chance to do more than just gaze through that window.
Nothing would induce her to jeopardize it.
6
The knowledge that no wedding night awaited Leah did little to ease her jitters as the date drew near.
Her younger brother, Ethan, sent his regrets for being unable to attend the wedding. Uncle Leith had commandeered Ethan’s attention for the London Season, wanting to show off his accomplished poet nephew to all his acquaintances in town.
Leah felt a pang that her youngest brother would not be in attendance, but truthfully, the miles between London and Fettermill were considerable. Moreover, even the relatives of blushingyoungbrides rarely traveled long distances to attend a wedding, so Ethan’s apologies were understandable.
He wrote of his busy schedule:
I feel a wee bit like a performing monkey, in all truth. But the connections I am making will be advantageous should I choose to publish my poetry. Regardless, I promise to come for a visit as soon as the Season eases into summer.
Ethan did, however, include a sealed note that Leah was to open on her wedding day.
As for her betrothed, after that initial Sunday, Fox came back down the glen only two more times. He met with Malcolm to discuss marriage contracts and rode into Brechin to obtain a marriage license. In each instance, he took time to call, sitting in the parlor of Thistle Muir and chatting with herself, Malcolm, and Aileen. But overall, Leah’s interactions with her betrothed were paltry and few.
As the weeks passed, Leah also felt tentative excitement over the thought of raising wee Madeline. Even though there would be no children of her own to love, just knowing that she could shower affection on Madeline helped to ease the sting.
The eve before the wedding, Malcolm and Leah sat before the fire in the parlor, each resting in a wingback chair. Aileen had already taken herself to bed. There was nothing left to prepare for the wedding on the morrow. Mrs. McGregor had made a lovely cake that sat in the cold larder. Leah’s wedding dress—an ivory silk gown that Malcolm had insisted on purchasing from a fine dressmaker in Forfar—had been neatly pressed and hung in her wardrobe upstairs.
“So ye are truly going tae marry this man then?” Malcolm’s voice turned hushed in the flickering firelight. He leaned forward and warmed his hands over the low flames.
“Aye,” Leah replied, staring into the glowing coals. “Tomorrow morning.”
The marriage would occur almost four weeks to the day after her betrothal. It was astonishing how much one’s life could change in so short a time, like a forest of bluebells going from green shoot to azure bloom over the course of a solitary afternoon.
Thistle Muir rested in quiet around them, shadows gathering in the corners. The sun had set not long ago, but as it was May and nearing the summer solstice, the hour was decidedly late.
Looking around the parlor, Leah realized she would miss this room with its well-loved furniture and mismatched upholstery.
After tomorrow, Thistle Muir would never be her home again—the house which stood as a testament to love, both romantic and familial.
Their mother had adored telling the story.
How when Isobel had decided to marry Mr. John Penn, Grandfather Leith had been incensed. As a condition of her marriage contract, he had made two non-negotiable stipulations:
One, the new couple would combine their surnames into Penn-Leith.
Two, John would use Isobel’s generous dowry to build his bride a fine home more in line with the station to which she had been raised.
And so, Leah’s father had constructed Thistle Muir, an elegant modern house with stone walls, symmetrically-placed doors, and enormous paned windows that filled its rooms with sunlight on even dark winter days. Leah’s mother had furnished the home with plush Aubusson rugs, fashionable Parisian sofas, and stuffed English wingback chairs all flanked by books, elegant needlework, and fine china. Beautiful items, yes, but ones that had been so thoroughly used and loved, they now held the laughter and happiness that had marked John and Isobel’s life together.
How would her parents feel about Leah’s decision to marry a man she scarcely knew? To embark upon a marriage that would be nothing like their own?
“Ye dinnae have to go through with this, Leah. I will ensure ye have a life of your own,” Malcolm said. “It’s not too late tae call the wedding off.”
Leah nearly sighed. No need to wonder how her brother felt. Reticent Malcolm had not been shy in letting his displeasure be heard. She knew his concern came from a place of love. That he was merely worried about her future happiness.
But after experiencing four weeks of life as a soon-to-be-married woman, Leah couldn’t fathom returning to her spinsterhood.
No, she had seen the grander vista, and she couldn’t wait to become a wife, even if she would never truly know a fullness of marital bliss. Besides, she liked Fox too well to give him up so readily.
