He nodded, and then replied, “I will see to the house then, madame.”
“That is as it should be,” she told him, and with a nod of her head turned away, taking Logan’s arm as they exited the hall.
“Well, dear boy, ’tis almost done now,” Lord Cambridge said. “You are the perfect husband for her. I knew it from the beginning.”
Baen laughed and sat down opposite the older man. “You are a fraud, Tom,” he told him. “You hoped for one of those overbred gentlemen of the court, not the bastard of a Highland chieftain. But I thank you for your kind words.”
“I considered the possibility of a nobler match,” Lord Cambridge admitted, “but the truth is there are more bastards at court, and while their blood is finer by far than yours, you are the nobler man, Baen. The moment I realized it I strove for a match between you and Elizabeth. You surely knew you had my approval and my cousin’s.”
“I knew,” Baen answered him quietly.
“I admire your loyalty and devotion to the master of Grayhaven. I hope you will now transfer those same emotions to Elizabeth. If you had only come to me and asked, I should have arranged for the family to speak with your father. But Elizabeth was no better, and she was childish in her unspoken insistence that you choose between her and your sire,” Lord Cambridge said. “Why did you not speak out?”
Baen sighed. “I did not really feel I was worthy of the heiress of Friarsgate,” he replied. “As much as I loved her I thought she should seek a greater name than mine.”
“Yet you allowed her to seduce you, which you had to know she did to keep you by her side,” Thomas Bolton remarked.
Again the tall Scot sighed. “It was dishonorable of me, I know, but I could not resist her. I have never known a woman who could bring my blood to a boil, but she can. I will never leave her again, Tom,” Baen promised.
“Dear, dear boy,” Lord Cambridge said with a smile, “it is most unlikely my darling Elizabeth will let you. She is certain to punish you for what she deems your disloyalty, but in time she can be brought around. No one is happier than I that this situation has resolved itself so well, but then I knew it would. I have successfully settled a trio of headstrong girls. I can hardly believe it of myself.” He stood. “Good night, dear boy! I will see you in the morning.” And Thomas Bolton almost skipped from the hall, so pleased was he with how everything had turned out.
Watching him go, Baen smiled. Lord Cambridge would always remain his favorite uncle, he thought, chuckling to himself. He arose and made his rounds, seeing that the fires were all banked and the candles snuffed but for the taper he carried. Then, climbing the stairs, he found his chamber and went to bed. He was awakened even before the sunrise by the hall steward, Albert, shaking his shoulder gently.
“Master, ’tis time to arise. The lady has ordered the ceremony be said directly after prime, and ’tis in but half an hour,” Albert told Baen.
Baen swung his long legs over the bed and sat for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Are there any flowers in the meadow or on the hillside yet?” he asked.
“Nay, master, but there is a bit of dried white heather hanging in the pantry,” Albert answered.
“Find Nancy, and ask her if she can spare a blue ribbon. She is not to tell her mistress, Albert. I would surprise my bride.”
“I understand, master,” the older man said. He was pleased that his mistress was to marry the Scot today. The Friarsgate folk had come to like and respect him. He hurried from the bedchamber to do Baen’s bidding.
Finding a pitcher of water in the warm ashes, Baen washed himself as best he could, and then dressed himself in his best breeches, carefully tucking his linen shirt into the waist of the garment. He did not own a doublet, but he donned his sleeveless leather jerkin with the horn buttons. Over it he set a length of red-black-and-yellow Hay plaid, pinning to it the clan badge his father had given him when he turned sixteen. The falcon on it had garnet eyes. He found his boots had been cleaned, and drew them on, pleased. He might not be an elegant gentleman of a noble house, but he would make Elizabeth a presentable husband nonetheless. Running his fingers through his thick locks to neaten them, he left the bedchamber and proceeded to the hall.
“You are prompt,” Elizabeth greeted him. She was wearing a pale blue velvet gown with an extra panel in it. It had puffed sleeves tied with cream-colored ribbons. Her breasts, fuller than he recalled, swelled dangerously over the neckline. Her belly could not be hidden. Her lovely blond hair was pulled back and twisted into a soft knot affixed with silver hairpins at the nape of her graceful neck. She wore a pearl-trimmed French cap atop her head, and about her neck a rope of large pearls.
“So are you,” he replied. “How lovely you look this morning.”
She colored but then said in a sharp tone, “Do not think you can wheedle me, sir. You deserted me, and came back only because you were dragged. Will you run back to Scotland once the priest has wed us?”
“I will remain by your side always, Elizabeth,” he responded. “And I did not desert you, which you well know. I never made any pretext of remaining at Friarsgate. You knew I had to return to Grayhaven,” he said.
“I was with child!” she cried.
“A fact you were not even aware of at the time,” he countered. “You could have written to me. I do read and write, as you know.”
“I hate you!” she muttered angrily.
“And I love you,” he told her.
“Master?” Albert was at his side. In his hand was a bouquet made from three sprigs of dried white heather tied with a blue ribbon.
“Thank you,” Baen said. Then, turning to Elizabeth, he handed her the bouquet. “’Tis the best we can do. Nothing is yet in bloom. I don’t even know the month now.”
She took his offering, gazing at it, tears coming to her eyes, which she hurriedly blinked back. “’Tis April,” she said low. “April fifth.”
“A good month, and a good day for a wedding,” Baen told her.
