“Do ye hate me, then?”
“Nay!”
“Dislike me?”
“Nay.”
“Do ye like me at all?”
“Oh, aye my lord, I do!”
“Can we nae build on that, lassie? Come home wi’ me to Dunmor this night, and we will begin,” he entreated her.
He must love her, she decided. He did not have to beg her to accompany him to Dunmor. He was her husband. Her lord. She was his to do with as it pleased him, and yet he had courted her these past months with charm and sweetness. He could force her, and yet she did not think he would. To deny him his husbandly rights any longer would not be fair, and such childishness on her part could turn his thoughtfulness to enmity. “I will come home with you, my lord,” she said softly, “but first we must put the bride and groom to bed. Come now, for we have kept the others waiting long enough.” She turned about, gently removing his hands from her person, and taking one of those hands in hers, she led him back to the others. “I must help Ailis,” she said, and he nodded.
A toast was called for, and while the gentlemen were engaged in drinking it, the bride and the other ladies made good their prearranged escape from the hall, laughing and running up the staircase of the house to a bedchamber that had been prepared for the bridal couple’s wedding night. After a few days’ sojourn with his in-laws, the laird of Culcairn would take his bride home to his newly rebuilt house, and on Christmas Eve Day his sister Meg would marry Gavin Fleming from that house.
“No bride needs a marriageable sister-in-law mooning about her house,” Meg said firmly, “and ye’ll hae yer hands full as it is wi’ Mary and wee Geordie, and the other bairns to come.”
This wedding night, Meg’s impending nuptials, and the open secret regarding Arabella and her husband, led to the unusually noisy hijinks on the part of the ladies.
“Is there a knife beneath the mattress?” demanded Princess Mary.
“What on earth for?” Arabella said.
“To cut the pain when he breaks her maidenhead, silly!” came the reply, and the others laughed.
“Ahhh,” sighed one lady, “there’s nothing finer than a good upstanding cock on a man! ‘Twill cover a multitude of sins.”
“Ye should know,” chortled another woman. “Three husbands ye’ve had, Annie Home, and how many bairns now?”
“Eight,” came the reply. “‘Tis nae my fault I keep wearing out the poor laddies, but my Duncan says he’ll nae leave me a widow like the other two.”
There was much good-natured laughter over this sally as the ladies helped Ailis to remove her beautiful wedding gown.
“Ye dinna seem fearful, Ailis,” Princess Mary remarked.
“Nay, madame,” Ailis replied. “Why would I fear the man I love best of any in this world?”
The other women nodded, smiling at Ailis’ reply. ‘Twas a love match to be sure, and it would be a happy marriage, they were all certain. Little Mary Hamilton came racing into the room.
“The gentlemen are coming!” she cried.
Ailis stood naked within the chamber.
“Quick!” said her mother, giving the girl’s long hair a last brush. “Into bed wi’ ye, daughter, unless ye wish to display yer charms for all the gentlemen to see!”
Ailis was helped into the big bed, the covers drawn up, and a gossamer light white shawl was draped about her shoulders.
“God bless ye and keep ye, my dearie,” said her mother, bending to kiss her daughter’s cheek, and then standing, she ordered, “Open the door!”
Mary Hamilton yanked open the portal just as the gentlemen arrived, preparing to pound upon it. They tumbled into the room laughing and shouting, pushing the groom before them good-naturedly. Robert Hamilton had been divested of all of his clothing excepting his shirt, which hung halfway between his thigh and his knee. He was flush with wine, excitement, and embarrassment.
“We’ve given him just enough wine to assure he does well by ye, madame,” the earl announced.
The laird blushed a deeper hue of red.
“Will ye not come to bed, sir?” Ailis said calmly, as if the whole thing were an everyday event. She drew back the coverlet on one side of the bed.
